Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 71616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
“You’re sure it’s her? I mean, before you do anything you need to be sure.”
“I am.”
He studies me for a beat, then nods. “The house is yours to use, you know that.” He digs his phone out, types something and my phone pings. “First one is the code for the gate. Second one will get you into the house.”
“Thank you.”
“What’s your plan exactly?”
“I want to find out what she knows. Who she’s talked to if anyone. I also want to know who the hell she really is because she’s not who she’s pretending to be.” I hear the built-up fury in my voice. Two months of it coming down to this woman, this fucking waitress at a fucking gentlemen’s club, blackmailing me.
My free hand fists as I bring the tumbler to my lips once more, swallow the contents then stand.
“I need to go.”
He stands too, puts his hand on my shoulder, eyes intent on me. “If you need me—”
“You’ll be there?” I throw out before I can stop myself.
His jaw tightens. “Yes, I will, brother. And you fucking know it.”
“Go home to your wife and kids, Jericho. You don’t want to be involved in this.”
I move away, but he steps in front of me. “I mean it, Zeke. I will be there. Anything you need. Whatever it is.”
I study him. He does mean it, that much I can read on his face. But the truth is, the last three years living in Amsterdam with the excuse of expanding the family business, they’ve brought to the surface just how fresh the wounds of the past are. Just how raw the feeling of being abandoned by my older brother all those years ago when we all needed him most is. In a way, it’s worse now than it was before, when Kimberly died, and Jericho was mourning her while in hiding with his little girl. Is it that I’m not happy for him to have found peace and a life with Isabelle? Am I so vile that I begrudge my brother his happiness when he, too, has suffered?
“Since you’re offering, I’ll hold on to Dex if you don’t mind.” Dex works for Jericho. I don’t know how much he knows about the things Jericho has done or what I’ve done, but I know my brother trusts him. He’s the driver who picked up Blue to bring her to work this evening.
That’s not what he wanted to hear. It’s clear on his face. He sighs. “Done.”
I nod my thanks. “I need to go.” I have preparations to make.
It takes him a moment to step out of the way, but he does.
I walk out of The Cat House and into the pouring rain. I don’t bother with a coat, but let the rain drench me as I head toward my vehicle, the driver, opening the door of the backseat and apologizing for not having driven to meet me. Had he missed the call? I reassure him he’s fine and give him the address to the old Bishop house. The property is adjacent to the St. James mansion, my one-time home, but I’ll use the separate entrance. I lean back in my seat and watch the rain fall on this city I love. The city I miss. The one place I long to be but can never return to.
3
Blue
I grip the edge of the counter, eyes closed while I wait for the dizziness to pass. Wait for the ringing in my ears to subside.
Everything is building on top of everything else. All the emails? It’s a matter of time until my dad catches up with me and no matter what, I can’t let him find Wren.
Now there’s this on top of everything else. Ezekiel St. James depositing a dollar into my account and sending that middle finger emoji before showing up here, where I work. Granted it’s a part of IVI, but he lives in Amsterdam. I know that. He shouldn’t be here. I’d never have taken this job if there was any chance I’d run into him.
I know and you’re fucked. That’s the message he’s sending. And I am well and truly fucked if I don’t come up with something fast.
I bend down to splash cold water on my face. When I meet my reflection in the mirror, I see how red my eyes are, how dark the shadows beneath. I try to rub away the black eyeliner that smeared as I puked up the pasta I scarfed down before my shift. My stomach is in knots, and when I hold up my hands, they’re shaking.
His silence in the beginning, when he first would have received my message, that was him taking his time until he figured out who I was. A man like him isn’t just going to hand over a-hundred-grand when threatened with exposure. I overshot this, choosing him. I should never have targeted a man like him. He’s powerful. I knew that, didn’t I? All of the men who frequent this private club, who are members of The Society, you don’t fuck with them.