by Alexa Wilder
"Are you with the FBI?" I asked, afraid of what his answer would be. Giving credence to my fear, he slanted me another sideways look and gave a short shake of his head.
"No, I'm not," he said dropping the drawl and the amusement. "I didn't get all the details, but I know enough about what happened to you tonight. I understand that you'd be smart not to trust anyone you don't know. And probably half the people you do know."
"Are you going to tell me who you are? And why you helped me back there ?”
“It's not my job to give you explanations," he said. "I'm sorry about that since I know an explanation, the truth, would make you feel a lot better right now. My job is to get you someplace safe."
"And if you’re not willing to tell me who you are, or what's going on, then why should I go with you?" I asked, annoyed that I was being asked to trust someone I didn't know. Yes, he’d helped me. And yes, he seemed trustworthy. But my judgment hadn’t proved spectacular of late. Just because he was funny, and seemed friendly, didn't mean a god-damned thing.
"I'm not cleared to tell you anything,” he repeated. “My job was to get you out in one piece. It was also to get the laptop but I didn't see that anywhere, and I didn't want to blow my cover by asking." He raised an eyebrow at me, inviting an explanation. I didn't think there was any point in not telling him.
"Harper locked it in his safe,” I said. He shrugged.
"It's the FBI that wants the laptop. My orders were only to get it if it was easy and available. My mission was you."
"And why was I your mission?" I tried again. A second head shake and he smiled, giving me another look, this one clearly amused.
“He said you were sharp. But I can see you’ve taken a few shots to the head. I'd like to make this easier for you, but frankly, I've stepped right into the middle of this mess, and I think the less said, the better, until we get where we're going, and we can straighten all this out.
"But here's the thing,” he went on. “You don't know me. I can tell you I'm not working with Harper or the mob. I can tell you I just want to get you somewhere safe, somewhere you can get your bearings, and can figure out where to go from here. I can tell you all of that, and you have no reason to believe me.
“But what are your other options? If you're as smart as he says you are, you'll know jumping out of my car and running away is only going to leave you vulnerable to the bad guys. If you're loose out there without protection, Harper or Tsepov will pick you up. If they get you a second time, they won't make a mistake. Harper’s an entitled ass, but I'm not from Vegas and even I know about Tsepov. You don't want to get mixed up with him. If he takes you, it's going to be a hell of a lot harder for us to get you back.
“I know you're not much of a gambler, but take one more risk and give me some time. I'm going to take you somewhere safe. Somewhere you'll get explanations for everything that's been going on. If you don't like those explanations, if you can't live with them, I'll bring you somewhere else and help you.”
He took his eyes off the road, fixed them on me, and said, “I promise.”
My judgment hadn't been great lately, but I believed him.
“So when we get where we’re going, if I say I don't want to be there, you'll take me somewhere else? Somewhere safe?" I asked.
"I will,” he said. “But you have to give it a few hours. You have to give him a chance to explain. This whole case has been a disaster, and you got the worst of it, no question. But I have to tell you, he doesn't make mistakes, and this one is killing him."
I didn't like the way that sounded. Who was he? I had a sinking feeling that I knew exactly who Griffen was talking about. If I did, I wanted nothing to do with him. Nothing. No that wasn't true, I wanted to fly him to the top of a volcano and drop him in just before it erupted. That wasn't nothing.
I did not want to talk to him, or hear his explanations. But I was getting ahead of myself. Maybe he wasn't talking about Adam Stewart a.k.a. Somebody Sinclair.
Maybe there was another player in this whole disaster of an investigation, one I hadn't heard of yet. It was possible since it seemed I had no idea what had been going on this whole time.
I closed my eyes and tipped my head back. I didn't want to think about it. Just for a little bit, I wanted to be quiet and appreciate that I was safe, at least temporarily. Whatever came next, I would deal with it later.
"When will we be there?” I asked in a whisper.
"Not too much longer," Griffen answered. “Close your eyes and take a nap, we’ll be there before you know it."
My eyelids were as heavy as cement blocks. Exhaustion overwhelmed me. I took Griffen’s suggestion and fell asleep.
14
Emma
I didn't wake up until the car stopped. My eyes opened slowly, and I looked around. We were in a driveway, in front of a house that, in the dim light, appeared both low and long. I couldn't see much more than that.
"Where are we?" I asked. Griffen turned off the engine and opened his door, the overhead light illuminating his face as he said, “Near Lake Mead. Let's go inside and get this over with, then you can get some rest.”
I didn't like the way that sounded. Get what over with? I thought I knew, and I wasn't sure if I wanted my suspicions to be correct just so I wouldn't have to face one more surprise.
Obediently, I got out of the car and followed Griffen up the walkway. He didn't bother to knock, just turned the handle and opened the tall rustic wood and black iron door as if he belonged there.
“Is this your house?" I asked.
A familiar voice said, “No, it’s mine."
With a sinking feeling, I looked up to see Adam standing in front of me.
"I knew it," I shouted, suddenly furious at the sight of him. “I didn’t want to believe it, but I knew you were behind this.” I whirled to face Griffen and said, “Take me somewhere else. You promised you’d take me somewhere else if I didn’t want to be here.”
He shook his head, an apology in his kind green eyes.
"I said you had to hear him out. Then, if you still wanted to leave, I’d take you somewhere else. You've only been here a minute."
I punched him in the shoulder. I thought it was a good punch. It carried enough frustration that it should have knocked him out. Griffen didn’t react at all.
I knew it wasn't fair to strike out at him, this whole mess wasn't Griffen's fault. I was just so pissed and hurt, and I didn't trust myself to get close enough to Adam to hit him.
Still focused on Griffen, trying my best to ignore the lying bastard who had been my boyfriend, I said, “Please, Griffen. I don't want to stay here with him. He lied to me. He used me. He slammed the door in my face.”
I knew my face looked like a mess. I also knew Adam hadn’t hit me with the door on purpose. I didn’t really care. My nose wasn't broken - I was sure I’d know if it had been broken - but it still hurt like hell. I could feel the bruise on my cheek, hot and tight. I didn't need a mirror to guess that I looked awful.
Griffen's eyes narrowed on my face, then flashed at Adam. "You did this to her?"
Adam ignored Griffen and looked at me. His eyes soft and heavy with regret, he said, "Emma. Emma, I fucked up. I fucked up huge. I don't even know where to start apologizing." Turning his attention to Griffen, he went on, "I am responsible for hurting her, but it was an accident. I would never, ever, hurt Emma like that on purpose."
“No, you’d just lie to me for weeks, use me, and then turn me over to someone who was going to sell me into slavery. That's so much better than accidentally slamming a door into my face."
All the stress and fear I’d been holding back exploded inside me, set loose by my close call that evening. I couldn’t keep it together anymore. I’d known something was off with Adam. My gut had told me he was too good to be true. But I’d been falling for him. Falling hard. And now I’d hit bottom.
The man I’d thought I might be in love with had lied to me and used me. The sick thing was, a part of me wanted
to forgive him. A tiny, wounded voice in my heart whispered that I could trust him. That he’d apologized. Maybe he meant it. Maybe he really cared.
The memory of Harper’s greedy eyes, the hungry tone in his voice when he said he was going to fuck me, reminded me that I couldn’t trust a thing Adam said. I wouldn’t have been there for Harper to touch if it hadn’t been for Adam. I wanted him to shut up, but he kept talking.
"Emma, if I'd had any idea what Harper was into, I never would've left you with him.”
“That's not the point," I said, my voice rising. "You should have trusted me. You should have believed me when I told you I was innocent. Instead, you handcuffed me. You brought me to him, even after I begged you to help me, and then you just left me there."
"I didn't leave you there. Not exactly. I was outside in my car the whole time. I knew something was wrong, and I checked on your story. I'm sorry, Emma. I'm so sorry."
"You were there the whole time?” That just made me angrier. "While he had me tied to a chair? While he was groping me? You were just sitting outside, safe in your car, making phone calls?"
Adam’s eyes went dark and cold. He turned them on Griffen and said, "He touched her?"
"Not that I saw, and she was so shaken up when I got her out I didn't think it was the right time for an inquisition," Griffen answered, his voice tight.
"I'll fucking kill him," Adam said.
I had to stop thinking of him as Adam. At least assuming that wasn't his real name. Annoyed by everything I didn't know, I snapped out, “Is your name even Adam?"
"No,” he said, looking sheepish. “It’s Axel. Axel Sinclair."
"Adam Stewart. Axel Sinclair. Close. I guess close enough that you wouldn't get confused, right?”
Adam/Axel didn't answer, just shrugged his shoulders. Probably smart. I couldn't think of any response that wouldn't have pissed me off further. I didn't want to be here. I didn't want to be facing this new person, Axel instead of Adam.
I wanted my boyfriend back. Adam, who rubbed my feet and knew exactly how to boss me around in bed. Adam who texted me at work and laughed at my stories. Not this intimidating stranger with the cold eyes and new name.
He stood there, his handsome face filled with regret and determination, and he scared me almost as much as William Harper. I knew Harper was the enemy. But Axel was Adam and I was still so unsettled by everything that had happened.
I wanted someone to trust. It would be so easy to forget his lies, so easy to believe that Axel really wanted to make everything all right. Easy, and dangerous.
"Is there somewhere I can go to wash my face?" I asked, needing to get myself together before we took this confrontation any further.
"Down the hall," Axel said gesturing to his left. Without thanking him, I followed where he pointed and found a spacious powder room. An oversized wood framed mirror hung over the sink, and the room was lit by a black iron chandelier. It was not the average powder room. It looked like Adam - interesting and elegant.
Absently, I wondered how an app developer could afford a house like this. Then I reminded myself that Adam wasn’t an app developer. He wasn’t even Adam. He was Axel Sinclair, and I had no idea what he did for a living, except that it involved working for criminals and lying.
My stomach clenched when I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I'd guessed I looked pretty bad, but this was way worse than I'd expected. My hair probably didn't help. It had worked its way free of the loose bun and stuck out in bright red tangles around my face.
My skin, where it wasn't covered with dried blood, was sheet white. My nose was a little swollen, but definitely not broken. Blood trailed from both nostrils and my right cheekbone was puffy, already bruising. Not a surprise that it throbbed and ached like a bitch. I could see the beginnings of a black eye above the bruise.
I was going to look so very charming for the next few days. Lovely.
I took one of the hunter green hand towels folded neatly by the sink, wet it, and went to work cleaning up my face. When I was done, I pulled out the bun, used my fingers to roughly comb my hair, and pulled it back into the best French braid I could manage. I didn't look great, but I looked less like a disaster. It would have to be enough.
I left the powder room and went back down the hall to face down Axel. I needed answers. It seemed he wanted me to stay at his house, and it was possible that was the safest location, considering I now had both my former boss - I was sure as hell quitting my job - and the Russian mob looking for me. Before I made any decisions, I wanted to hear Axel's explanation for everything that had happened since we’d met.
Walking back into the room, I took in the sight of Griffen and Axel, standing close together, murmuring in low voices, and said, "I'd like a cup of tea. Do you have any tea?”
"I do,” Axel said, looking relieved that I hadn’t renewed my demands to leave. “If you'll go sit in the living room, I'll make you some." To Griffen, he said, “You can go, we’re good here."
“No,” I said, also to Griffen. "We're not good here. You made me a promise."
Griffen gave Axel an apologetic look and said, "I did make her a promise. And whatever your explanation for why you cuffed her and delivered her to that asshole, it had a better be good."
Axel had already started toward the kitchen. At Griffen’s words, he stopped, turned, and fastened his dark eyes on Griffen. "What, exactly, did you promise her?"
"I told Emma that she had to let you have your say. If she didn’t want to stay after that, I’d take her somewhere else and keep her safe until she’s out of danger."
Axel's eyes narrowed and for a moment, he looked like he was going to explode. This gave me a perverse sense of amusement. He didn't like being thwarted? Did he feel helpless? Betrayed by someone he trusted? It was a small thing, but the frustrated anger on his face made me feel better.
“You work for me," he said. Griffen laughed and sent me a flirtatious wink. I smiled back. Axel scowled at the both of us.
"Not really. I mostly work for your brothers," Griffen said, shoving his hands in his back pockets, looking like he was enjoying baiting Axel. "But I don't do what they tell me either. I'm an operative, not a trained puppy. Emma's been through enough. She’s held up surprisingly well, considering the circumstances. And if you can't satisfy her…” - this said with an intentionally comical leer in my direction - “Then I'll take over her case."
“She’s not a case. Not anymore,” Axel ground out through clenched teeth.
"If she hires me to keep her safe, then she is. She's my case and my client."
If Axel ground his teeth together any harder, I thought they might shatter. He was riding the edge of his temper, and after the way he’d lost it in my apartment, I didn't want to see his temper set free again.
It had been ugly, and the memory hurt. I could tell he was holding himself in check. For me, or because he didn't want to lose it in front of Griffen?
I didn't know. I also didn't know why Griffen was poking at him, but I wouldn't pretend I wasn't enjoying it. Appreciating Griffen for both needling Axel and for giving me something to smile about, I said, "I'm not sure I can afford you, Griffen."
He shot me a melting grin that had a bit too much smolder in it to be genuine, and said, “Darlin', for you, I work cheap."
I couldn't quite think of what to say to that. I was pretty sure Griffen was flirting to piss Axel off, which was fine with me. But for once, I couldn't think of what to say to flirt back. Axel was practically vibrating with rage at Griffen, and I didn't want to set him off. Griffen, on the other hand, looked highly entertained and completely at ease.
Eyeballing Axel’s glare and tight shoulders he said, “Your brothers are going to love Emma. She’ll fit right in."
I wasn’t sure I liked the sound of that. If Axel’s brothers were anything like him, I’d be in big trouble.
15
Emma
Axel must have decided that he was done trying to reason with Griffen. Turn
ing to me he said, "I'll go make your tea. The living room is just through there, why don't you make yourself comfortable. I'll be back in a minute. We can sit down, and I'll explain everything.”
I nodded and followed his direction to the living room, an open space with huge plate glass windows that, so late at night, looked out into darkness. The room was furnished with comfortable sofas and chairs in dark leathers and fabrics.
I sank down into one of the large armchairs, ensuring that no one could sit beside me. Griffen and Axel’s sparring had been funny, but I was done with it.
I was going to face Axel, and I wanted to do it on my own. Griffen sat on the couch, facing the big glass window, leaving Axel the other armchair, opposite me.
Griffen reached for a remote on the coffee table in front of him and clicked the button. In the corner of the room, a fireplace flared to life. It wasn't cold outside, but I was chilly, despite my sweater.
In a low voice that wouldn't carry back to the kitchen, Griffen said, "From what I know about what went down with Axel, you have a right to be angry. But give him a chance. He didn't do the right thing tonight, but it's the first time since I've known him that he hasn't. Worse case scenario, even if you can't forgive him, you’re safest with Axel protecting you."
"What about you?" I asked. Griffen shook his head with a wry smile.
"If you really can't work things out with Axel, I'll take you back to Atlanta. Or wherever you want to go. But, I'm just a single operative. I'm good. I'm damn good. But Axel runs the whole Western division of Sinclair Security, and he's got his brothers, running the Eastern division, at his back. He has resources at his fingertips that I have to work for. It gets more complicated if I'm working outside the company, which I might be if Axel gets pissed enough about me taking you away. I know you're mad at him, but he’s crazy about you.”
“I doubt that,” I said. If he was crazy about me, how had he lied to me for weeks? If he cared that much, he would have believed me when I told him I was innocent. It burned that he hadn’t. I could understand him seeing what was on my computer and assuming I was guilty. But the way he’d denied me the chance to defend myself and had thrown me to the wolves wasn’t forgivable.
