Sins, Lies & Spies (Black Brothers #2)

by Lisa Cardiff

  I scooped up my keys and jammed them in my front pocket. “They’re not.”

  He snickered. “Why not?”

  “She hasn’t gone anywhere in days.”

  Sharp creases dented the skin between his brows. “Why not?”

  “I don’t know.” I crossed the room. “I won’t be in the office tomorrow. I have a security update I need to do for Black Investments.”

  “No problem.” He closed his laptop and stuffed it into his tan messenger bag. The thing was ancient. Threads dangled from the seams, and the bottom looked more black than tan. He’d been carrying it since his days in the Navy. “You want to grab a drink at the bar down the street?”

  “I can’t.” I opened the door, and Jack followed me out.

  “Do you have a date?”

  “Nope.” I pressed the call button for the elevator. “I’m going to swing by Trinity’s place.”

  “What for?”

  “I don’t know. I guess I’m going to do a little surveillance.” I winked as we stepped into the elevator. “See what she’s been up to.”

  He rolled his eyes. “We have people to do that shit. You don’t have to do it yourself.”

  “I know, but it’s not that far out of my way.”

  He smirked. “Uh-huh.”

  I shoved his shoulder. “Back off. We need her help.”

  “There are alternatives.”

  I stepped off the elevator and pressed the unlock button on my key fob. “Yep, and I’ll pursue those if this doesn’t work.”

  ***

  I sat in my car outside of Trinity’s home. She lived on the main floor of a gray three-story brownstone near the National Mall. An hour into my surveillance, a man in a long, black overcoat jogged down the street with his head angled toward the sidewalk. A dark fedora shaded his face from view.

  He took an abrupt right and ran up the steps to Trinity’s home. Without hesitating, he knocked on her door. Seconds later, she opened the door and waved him inside. He handed her his hat and glanced over his shoulder.

  “I’ll be damned,” I muttered, leaning forward to get a better view. “What the hell is he doing here?”

  After the door had closed, I filled the inside of my car with a string of colorful curses. What was wrong with me? My gut ached like someone had dropkicked me in the stomach, and I knew exactly what I was feeling—jealousy. I could ignore it. I could dismiss it. I could pretend it didn’t bother me, but I knew the truth. From the first moment I saw her, Trinity had become an obsession. Regardless of what I did, I couldn’t get her out of my head. Either I was intensely attracted to her and needed to fuck her out of my brain or she brought out something in me I hadn’t felt with any other woman. I didn’t like either scenario. Being dependent on anyone for any reason didn’t sit well with me.

  Ten minutes ticked by like an hour, and I broke down and I called Jack. I needed to talk to him because I felt like I was coming out of my skin.

  “Hello,” he said, answering his phone after the first ring. I heard the rumble of voices and pounding music in the background.

  “Can you talk?” I asked.

  “One second. Let me step outside.” When the music and voices faded, he continued. “What’s going on?”

  I squeezed the steering wheel with one hand until my knuckles whitened. “I’m not sure, but Benton just showed up at Trinity Jones’s house.”

  “What the fuck? What’s going on?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t have a clue. Either Miles is using Trinity to communicate with Benton or Trinity is working with Benton.”

  “Or she’s having an affair with Benton.”

  “I don’t know. Benton and his wife seem pretty solid. Other than the blackmail scandal brewing around him for the past year, he’s kept his nose clean.”

  “This is ridiculous, Knox. Do you hear yourself? We both know Benton is up to his eyeballs in shit. He refused to bring up another bill for vote in the House just this week. Getting involved with this woman who may or may not be backstabbing Miles or fucking Benton on the side is a bad idea for so many reasons. There are other ways to unravel this mess. We don’t need her.”

  “Yeah, maybe you’re right.” I rubbed my temples, my gaze glued to Trinity’s home. I didn’t know what I thought I’d see.

  “Not maybe. I am right. This girl is trouble. First, she’s connected to Miles, and that’s reason enough to stay away from her, but now she’s fucking Benton and—”

  “We don’t know that,” I snapped, interrupting him. “They could be friends or she could be working with him.”

  He exhaled. “A man only drops by a single woman’s house at ten-thirty at night for one reason and it’s not to paint each other’s fingernails or share stories about their day at work.”

  I glanced at the yellow light glowing like a beacon from a large picture window at the front of her townhome. The possibility of catching a glimpse of her tonight made me decline Jack’s invitation to go out for a drink. What had this woman done with my balls?

  “I’m not stupid. I realize that,” I muttered as the shiny red door of her townhome opened. Shadows shrank as the interior light spilled onto her front steps.

  Benton stepped over the threshold. Her head moved up and down, and he leaned in, whispering something in her ear. Almost immediately, he engulfed her in a one-armed hug, which didn’t offer any insight into the nature of their relationship.

  “He’s leaving,” I said.

  “Are you going to follow him?”

  “No.”

  “There’s still time to meet me for a drink.”

  I tapped my fingers on my thigh, staring at Trinity’s townhouse. “Where are you? I could use a drink.”

  “I’m at Mercy.”

  Trinity closed the curtains of her front window, and her home faded to black. “No,” I said, changing my mind instantly. “I have a shit load of work tomorrow, and I need a clear head.”

  “Are you going to look into the connection between Trinity and Benton?”

  “I will.”

  “Good. Call me tomorrow if you need anything.”

  “Will do.” I disconnected the call.

  I sat in the car for nearly an hour before something compelled me to go inside. I needed answers, and somehow I convinced myself seeing her would tell me what I wanted to know.

  Not long after, I stood at the foot of her bed watching her sleep. She had left her closet door cracked open and a bar of light lit the lower half of her face. One of her legs had slipped out from beneath the white sheets. She wore a faded black t-shirt that barely covered her panties. Her mink colored hair fanned her pillow. Her face was scrubbed clean of makeup, and a small smattering of freckles dusted her nose.

  For a fleeting second, I pictured sliding into bed next her and stripping off her clothes.

  I imagined what she looked like naked.

  I wondered how her hair smelled.

  I speculated how she’d taste as I explored every inch of her long, toned body.

  Then I shut down the fantasy as fast as possible. I was treading a slippery slope. I needed to snap out of it and stay focused on the end goal.

  Slipping out of her room, I quietly searched the house, investigating all areas I failed to check the previous time and double-checking others. Empty-handed, I snuck out the front door nearly an hour later.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Trinity

  Sweat snaked down my spine. My thighs burned, and my chest heaved as the soles of my gray and orange sneakers slapped against the red brick sidewalk at six-thirty in the morning. Growing up, I always dodged the cracks. It was a habit I picked up as a kid after my mom disappeared. As ridiculous as it sounded, taking the silly children’s game to heart and avoiding the cracks was the only thing I could do to keep my mom safe. I’d never been able to shake the compulsion. The brick sidewalks of Capitol Hill made it impossible to play the game.

  Faint pink and red brushstrokes still painted the horizon, softening the h
ard edges of all the buildings. It was my favorite time of the day. Some people loved twilight. Some people loved the night. I loved the morning, especially those few hours where the city was still sleepy and the day was filled with infinite possibilities.

  I mouthed the words to “Fight Song” by Rachel Platten as they blasted from my earbuds for at least the sixth time since I started running. It seemed more than a little trite, but I needed all the courage I could get to show up on Miles’s doorstep this morning. Even though Derrick begged me to stay away from Miles and distance myself from his problems, I refused. I needed to help Derrick. He helped me start a new life in D.C., and I wanted to help him now. Besides, I didn’t want the media to drag me through the mud because someone revealed my connection to the Bentons.

  It took me twenty minutes to jog to Miles’s house from mine. With my hands braced on the tops of my thighs and the wire from my earbuds draped over my shoulder, I stood in front of his lacquered black front door. When my breathing returned to normal, I rapped on the door. I could’ve used my key, but it would give him the impression that we’d get back together at some point. While creating that illusion might’ve been useful to help Derrick, I couldn’t bring myself to let it happen. After what Derrick told me, the thought of inviting his touch or kissing him made my stomach roll.

  Miles’s daughter flung open the door. She propped one of her hands on her hip and flipped her long blonde hair behind her shoulder. Even though I had at least six inches on her, she managed to look down her nose at me.

  “What do you want?”

  “Hi.” I smiled brightly as I slid my chunky sunglasses onto the top of my head. “I need to talk to your dad. Is he around?”

  “Yeah, but he’s not up yet. I’ll tell him you were here.”

  As she moved to close the door, I shoved my foot into the opening and smacked the palm of my hand against the door. “It’s important. This can’t wait. Can you get him?” I peered over her shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of Miles.

  Just then, her phone buzzed. “Hold on,” she mumbled, pulling it out of her pocket and walking into the living room.

  Using her momentary distraction to my advantage, I sailed inside and darted down the hall. Taking a deep breath, I pushed open the door to his bedroom.

  “Wait, he’s not alone,” his daughter yelled from the living room, but it was too late.

  Shock vibrated through my chest, and I clutched the doorjamb to stop myself from collapsing. Time freeze-framed as I surveyed the scene in front of me. Miles’s bare ass was in the air, pumping furiously back and forth. His ex-wife was on all fours, her too long yellowish-blonde hair extensions swaying back and forth.

  Air expelled from my lungs with a whistle like a deflating balloon. His hips froze mid-pump. In slow motion, he turned his head, his gaze colliding with mine.

  “Oh my God,” I muttered, at a loss for words.

  Sasha, his ex-wife, snickered.

  “Shit!” Miles yelled, without making any effort to untangle himself. “What are you doing here?”

  My morning coffee threatened to make an appearance on the floor, so I turned my back to the scene. “I texted you last night, remember?” When he didn’t answer, I continued talking. “I needed to talk to you about work, and go over some details, but I don’t think that’ll be necessary now. I’m done here.”

  Poison dripped from my words. I couldn’t believe I considered letting Miles back into my life, no matter how transitory the thought. Even though I didn’t want him, it hurt to catch him in yet another lie. My mind whirled with the sheer number of fabrications and half-truths he’d probably told me over the last few years. This moment tainted everything about our relationship.

  “Wait.” I heard the sheets rustle and his bare feet thump against the floor. “Let me explain.”

  “It’s not necessary. Go ahead and finish.” Pressure built behind my eyes, begging to trickle down my face. Inhaling and exhaling slowly, I willed it away, refusing to give him the satisfaction. When I regained control of my body, I slammed the door and fled down the hallway. My heart thudded like a drum in my ears, louder and louder as my sneaker-clad feet devoured the distance between the front door and me.

  But I didn’t move fast enough. A foot from the door, his fingers hooked into my shoulders and he spun me around. Luckily, he had managed to slip on a pair of plaid pajama pants before he chased me. “Tri,” he said, his voice hushed.

  “Don’t call me that,” I snapped. When he started calling me Tri a few months after we met, I’d loved it. Nobody cared enough about me to give me a nickname before I met Miles. It made me feel special, cared for, and loved. Now, the thought of the time I had wasted on his deceitful ass made me want to rip the hair out of his head, strand by strand.

  He pursed his lips as he adjusted the waistband of his pants. “Fine, but at least give me the opportunity to explain.”

  “Miles,” I said, drawing out his name. “I’m not a five-year-old. What I just saw doesn’t need an explanation.”

  He opened and then immediately closed his mouth because he knew I was right. I’d caught him mid-act. He couldn’t deny it happened.

  “That’s what I thought.” I wiggled out of his hold and took a few steps backward. “Have a nice life, Miles.”

  His brows pinched together. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  I drew in a shuddering breath. “You can consider this my resignation.” A pain stabbed through my chest when the words exited my mouth, but I didn’t have a choice. I needed to jump off this emotional rollercoaster while I still could. I’d already invested too much time in him.

  “You can’t walk away from this job. You need the money.”

  I shrugged and painted a tight smile on my face. “Leslie will give me a job at the bar until I find something else. I’ll survive. I always do.”

  “How are you going to pay your bills and Faith’s tuition? You need me. You need this job.”

  Rage set my nerve endings on fire, and my hand whipped through the air of its own volition. My open palm crashed against the side of his face. A loud crack reverberated through the room. I couldn’t believe he’d used my fears against me.

  He cupped the side of his face, his eyes glittering with rage. “What the hell was that, Trinity?”

  “That,” I pointed my finger at him, “is for being a liar, a user, and an all-around piece of shit.”

  He took a step forward, frustration creasing his forehead and a vein near his temple pulsing.

  “Stay the hell away from me,” I said through clenched teeth. “I’m done with you. I’m done with this job. I never want to see you again.”

  “You’re not done until I say you’re done. You owe me.”

  “I don’t owe you a damn thing,” I snarled, as I curled my hand around the doorknob behind me.

  His lips quirked up at the corners. “You’d be nowhere without me.”

  My gaze flicked to the side. Miles’s daughter and his ex-wife—current lover or whatever the hell she was—stood in the living room, staring the scene unfolding in front of them. His daughter looked horrified. Sasha had a smug, self-satisfied smile stretching her overly plump lips across her face. She was gloating. Instead of anger, I felt pity.

  Pity for her.

  Pity that she hadn’t walked away from Miles years ago.

  Pity that she actually thought this fight gave her an opening to have Miles all to herself.

  I suspected Sasha was an enabler, not a victim, of her ex-husband’s affairs. They played a game of tug of war with their affections. She pushed him away. He found someone new, and she fought to win him back. Then it started all over again. He’d replace me soon enough. In fact, I didn’t know why he kept me around as long as he did. It didn’t make sense. When we were together, we were better friends than lovers. We lacked passion. If our relationship had a pulse line, it would’ve been nearly flat with a few miniature upward ticks.

  Flinging open the door, I shook my head. “Af
ter everything you put me through, I think I can safely call us even.”

  His chest heaved and he pinned me with his narrowed gaze. “If you walk out the door right now, don’t expect me to pay you for the last job.”

  A shot of disbelieving laughter exploded from my lips. My hand twitched with the urge to hit him again, but I dug deep inside myself and located my last ounce of self-control. “Keep the fucking money. I don’t want it.” I stepped outside, shutting the door behind me.

  Suppressed tears beaded on my lashes, spilling down my face as my vision swam. The feelings of unworthiness, rejection, and despair I’d been holding back hit me with the force of a roundhouse kick. I clutched the railing to keep from falling to my knees. Good or bad, over the years I’d gotten used to Miles’s constant presence in my life. He’d become my boss, my friend, my confidant, and eventually my lover.

  Why did he lie to me over and over?

  I shook my head to clear my mind. None of this mattered. We were over before we ever started, and I never really loved him. I didn’t think I’d ever understand his motivations for pulling me into his life when he never intended to end his relationship with his ex-wife.

  At least I hadn’t succumbed to his manipulative attempts to get back together. That would’ve made today even more humiliating. Right now, I needed to focus on rebuilding my life, and staying true to myself in the process.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Knox

  As I rounded the corner of my street, Trinity pushed away from the wall of my building. She wore a long black coat and black boots. The glow from the overhead lamppost highlighted the soft fall of her hair over her shoulders. Her dark gaze collided with mine, and I paused, reluctant to deal with her right now. She already monopolized too many of my thoughts today, and I hadn’t gotten anything done.

  Archer would light a fire under my ass when he found out I didn’t bother installing the security updates for Black Investments, but I couldn’t concentrate on his company right now. I’d spent more than half of the day digging into her background, trying to ferret out her secrets. I wanted to know every little thing about Trinity Jones.