The Sinner's Secret
Page 3
“And you know nothing except how to relax.”
Gray let out an incredulous chuckle, his grip on her shoulders tightening for a split second. “You know nothing about me.” Then he dropped his hands.
Blakely bit back a cry of protest. Nope, she refused to beg him to touch her.
Scooting around her, Gray headed for the door. “I’m gonna go grab something to eat. Want me to get you something?”
It was well past lunchtime, but she’d been nose-deep in the report and hadn’t noticed until now. At Gray’s prompting, her stomach let out a growl loud enough for them both to hear.
A teasing smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
He was out the door before Blakely could tell him not to bother. Shrugging, she let him go, grateful for the reprieve so she could get herself back under control.
* * *
He’d needed to get out of there.
Never in his life had he gotten so hard from merely touching a woman’s shoulders. Although, if he was going to be honest, his physical reaction to Blakely had little to do with actually touching her skin.
It had more to do with the way she’d softened beneath his hands. The way she’d relaxed, letting her head loll back against his belly. The soft sigh of pleasure and relief she’d made in the back of her throat. The way her eyes had slowly closed, as if savoring the sensations he was giving her.
If he hadn’t left, he was going to embarrass himself. Or embarrass them both when she noticed his reaction. Food had been a quick, easy excuse.
He was two steps past Stone’s office when his friend called out, “Gray.”
He backed up, then pivoted inside.
“How’s it going?”
There was no need to wonder what Stone was asking about. The only case Gray was working on right now was his own. “Nowhere.”
“I’m sorry, man. Is she cooperating?”
“Yeah.” At first, Blakely had appeared to be shuffling papers around more than looking at them. But it hadn’t taken her long to actually start reading and digging, which didn’t surprise him. Blakely was the kind of woman who couldn’t ignore a task once it was placed in front of her. She worked hard and did her absolute best no matter what.
“What are you going to do if there’s nothing to find there?”
“Honestly? I have no idea. I mean, it’s likely the files won’t give us anything, but I have to look, anyway.”
“I don’t blame you.”
“Joker’s working his magic, too. Maybe he’ll find something.”
Their freelance hacker was one of the best on the east coast. Gray had cultivated an introduction through one of the guys he’d fought on the inside. He made damn sure not to ask what else Joker was working on because he didn’t want to know. The guy had a reputation for being choosy about his projects and difficult to find.
“We can hope. Let me know if there’s anything Finn or I can do.”
Stone’s offer was unnecessary since Gray already knew the two men would do anything he needed without question. But it was nice to hear, anyway. Especially when he had no one else in his corner.
“Thanks, man,” he said, starting to back out of the office.
“A little advice?”
Gray paused, tilting his head and eyeing his friend.
“Don’t be a dick,” Stone said.
“What?”
His eyebrows rose. “She’s gorgeous and I can practically see the sparks you two are striking from my office. You’ve spent too much time getting her here to screw it up simply because you haven’t gotten laid since you’ve been out.”
“I’ve gotten laid.” Okay, that wasn’t true. But he wasn’t about to admit that to Stone, who’d just give him hell over the fact. Sex wasn’t exactly high on his priority list right now. He couldn’t move on with his life until he figured out just who had screwed him over. And why.
Because there was no way of knowing when or if it would happen again until he did.
“Not nearly enough.”
“I wasn’t aware there was an orgasm quota I needed to fill. Perhaps you should put that in my personal development plan.”
“Asshole,” Stone countered, no heat behind the word.
He was about to make another snide comment when a commotion sounded down the hall.
“Sir, you can’t just walk back there,” Amanda, their receptionist, hollered down the hall.
Both men headed straight for the doorway. Gray hit it first, fists balled at his sides, his body strung and ready for a fight. Stone was right behind him, no doubt also prepared.
Several of their employees crowded into the hallway, but Gray and Stone both started telling them to get back into their offices and lock their doors. Considering their line of business, it paid to be careful. It wasn’t that long ago that Piper, Stone’s wife, had been kidnapped and held against her will.
Halfway down the hall, Amanda was chasing after a man stalking down the line of offices. “I’m just looking for my daughter. I know she’s here.”
“Sir, if you tell me who she is, I’ll be happy to get her for you.”
The gentleman waved his hand, dismissing Amanda. “I don’t have time for that. They’ll be right behind me.”
From behind, the man appeared disheveled. Although his clothes were obviously of good quality, his shirt had come untucked from his slacks, the tail of it hanging down past the bottom of his suit coat. The hems of his pants were splotchy with mud and water.
It had been raining earlier in the day, but had stopped several hours ago. However, this guy looked like he’d been tromping through mud puddles and fields.
It didn’t take long for Gray to catch up to Amanda. Wrapping a hand around her arm, he pulled her to a stop. “I’ve got it from here.”
“Sir, who’s going to be right behind you?” Gray asked, his deep voice loud as it echoed against the hallway walls.
The guy glanced over his shoulder, but shook his head instead of answering.
“Who are you looking for?”
“I’ve already said—my daughter.”
At that moment, the office door at the end of the hall, the one he and Blakely had been using for the past several days, swung open. Blakely stepped straight into the path of the man.
Gray cursed under his breath and sped up. He didn’t think this guy was dangerous—he didn’t appear to be holding a weapon or have one tucked into a holster anywhere on his body—but Gray really had no desire to test that theory with Blakely’s safety.
“Get back inside,” he said at the exact same time Blakely said, “Dad?”
Three
Oh, God. What was her father doing here? Blakely wanted to scream or curse or both.
“Dad?” Gray’s dark, smoky voice floated to her from down the hall. Squeezing her eyes shut, Blakely prayed for strength. And wished her face wasn’t currently going up in flames. Which it obviously was, since her cheeks felt like they were on fire.
Of course, he would be right there to witness her father at his absolute worst. She was never going to live this down.
“Baby girl, I don’t have much time.” Her father was completely oblivious to the people hovering in the hallway, gawking at the spectacle he was making. Or, more likely, he just didn’t give a damn.
Her father had never cared what kind of stir he left in his wake, or whether it bothered the people closest to him.
Blakely threw a glance toward Gray, who’d stopped several feet away, hands balled into fists on his hips and the fiercest scowl scrunching up his handsome face. An unwanted thrill shot through her system. There was something attractive about him, like he’d come ready to swoop in and save her.
Yeah, right.
Not wanting to deal with that thought, Blakely’s gaze skipped down to Stone, who was linger
ing behind Gray, a quizzical expression on his face. She didn’t have time to handle either of them right now. Not with her father spouting gibberish.
“Much time before what?” she asked, directing her attention back to her father.
“Before the authorities arrive to arrest me.”
Damn, it was worse than she’d thought. “Dad.”
“I didn’t do it.”
If she had a dollar for every time she’d heard that... “Uh-huh. What are you being arrested for this time?”
“Conspiracy to commit murder.”
Blakely blinked. Her mind blanked. Everything went silent for several seconds before a roar of sound rushed through her. “Excuse me?”
Her dad was a lot of things. A con artist, an idiot, a dreamer and a thief. What he wasn’t was a murderer.
“I’m being framed for this. But there’s not enough time to explain. I need you to get in touch with Ryan and tell him to come fix it.”
Blakely bit back a groan. If she ever heard that name again, it would be too soon. Ryan O’Sullivan had been part of her life since the day she was born...and a thorn in her side for just as long.
“Dad, you promised.”
The hangdog expression on her father’s face didn’t make the pang in her stomach ease any. She was seriously tired of feeling like the parent in their relationship, especially when he gave her that misbehaving, little-boy-caught-with-his-hand-in-the-cookie-jar expression.
Life wasn’t supposed to be like this.
“He’s my best friend, pet. What was I supposed to do?”
“Stay away from the man who is single-handedly responsible for landing you in prison several times.” It appeared, despite everything she’d done to stop the cycle, the man was going to have a hand in sending her father right back. “We agreed when you got out that you were going to cut all ties with Ryan O’Sullivan.”
“I tried.”
Blakely was quite familiar with the obstinate set of Martin Whittaker’s jaw. She wanted to scream. And cry. But neither reaction would help the situation.
“Not hard enough, and now look at what’s happening.” Blakely flung her hands wide to encompass the Stone Surveillance offices. Other people were now sticking their heads into the hallways to eavesdrop on the juicy gossip.
Wonderful. She might not be thrilled to be working here, but that didn’t mean she wanted her family’s dirty laundry aired for everyone to judge. “This is where I work, Dad.”
Martin let out a sigh and stepped closer, the petulant expression morphing into true regret.
Dammit. That was always how he got her. If there was a single shred of hope, Blakely just couldn’t turn her back on him. Her mother and sister both called her ten kinds of a fool. And a softy.
She was probably both.
But when Martin reached for her, Blakely couldn’t force herself to stop him. Although, she didn’t hug him back. This wasn’t the kind of problem that could be solved with some trite Irish quip and a pat on the head.
“I didn’t do this, Blakely,” he murmured. “I promise. Please, just contact Ryan. He’ll take care of everything.”
Sure. She wouldn’t call that man if he was the sole survivor of the apocalypse. Instead, Blakely started mentally flipping through names of good attorneys. She didn’t know many. Her father hadn’t ever been able to afford representation, so he’d always stuck with whomever the court appointed. But this time, thanks to Gray and his maneuvering, she had the means to pay for someone who might actually be able to help.
Although, she couldn’t quite shake the feeling that it wouldn’t make a difference. Her father might not think he was guilty of anything, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t guilty in the eyes of the law. Especially with a charge like conspiracy.
Who the heck could he have been accused of trying to kill?
Blakely shook her head. One issue at a time.
Before she could open her mouth and ask, another commotion started at the end of the hall. Two officers were stalking toward them, followed by Amanda. They didn’t have their guns drawn, but their hands were on the butts ready to pull at the first sign of concern.
In a loud, stern voice, one of the officers demanded, “Mr. Whittaker, put your hands in the air.”
Slowly, her father’s arms rose over his head. Staring straight at her, his soft blue eyes filled with regret and remorse.
Blakely’s throat grew tight and a lump formed. Her body went ice-cold with fear, sadness and frustration.
There was nothing she could do but watch.
One of the officers took another step down the hallway, but before he could reach her father something unexpected happened. Gray moved between them, blocking his path.
“What is Mr. Whittaker being charged with?”
The officer’s gaze narrowed. His eyes raked up and down Gray, sizing him up. But that didn’t seem to bother Gray. He was perfectly relaxed, his body loose and hands open by his sides.
“Conspiracy to commit murder.”
Hearing the words from her father had already sent a shock wave through Blakely. But hearing them from an officer, hand poised on a gun, made her downright terrified.
Because her father wasn’t known for being smart or cooperative.
“Now, please step out of the way.”
Gray stood exactly where he was, feet unmoving, for what felt like forever. The hallway was silent, the only sound the whoosh of air through the vents in the building. Everyone waited.
* * *
Her father was connected to one of the most notorious crime families in Charleston.
Everyone knew Ryan O’Sullivan, mostly because he was the kind of man you wanted to avoid, if at all possible. At least if you were a law-abiding citizen.
There was a time in his life when Gray would have avoided any association with the man. But now... O’Sullivan didn’t scare him. He might have connections, but then, so did Gray.
He’d never had any personal experience with the man, or any of his associates. However, the minute they were done here, he’d be making a few phone calls because he was absolutely certain one of his contacts knew O’Sullivan.
And while information on Martin Whittaker might be interesting, what he really wanted to know was just how deep Blakely’s ties were to the O’Sullivan family. Because from the sound of things, she knew the man pretty well.
O’Sullivan was definitely connected enough to pull off the kind of theft and cover-up that had landed Gray in jail. Especially with the help of an inside man. Or woman. And twenty million was a big incentive. Especially with a ready-made scapegoat.
Gray folded his arms over his chest, sizing up the officers in front of him. He could continue to block their path, but there wasn’t value in doing it. Not only would it not prevent Martin from being arrested and taken in, but it could also potentially land Gray’s butt back behind bars.
Nope, not worth it.
However, there might be information to gain and some goodwill to bank. Without glancing behind him, Gray raised his voice and said, “Martin, are you going to leave peacefully with the nice gentlemen waiting to take you downtown?”
“Yes.”
Cocking an eyebrow, Gray held up a single finger to ask for a moment, then turned his back to the officers so he could face Blakely and her father.
Gray’s gaze skipped across her, as he tried to find a clue that might help him determine something about the state of her mind. But all he could see was a jumbled mess of fear, irritation and determination.
That didn’t tell him much, other than that she was a good daughter who loved her father.
“Martin, I’m going to follow the officers and meet you at the station. Take some unsolicited advice and keep your mouth shut until the lawyer I’m about to call gets there.”
Blakely made a strangled sound before she o
pened her mouth to say something. Gray held up a hand, silencing her before she could get out a single word.
Both she and Whittaker shut their mouths. Gray waved behind him for the officers to come forward and then moved out of the way. He didn’t bother to watch the commotion in front of him as they cuffed her father. Instead, he watched Blakely.
And because he did, he was probably the only one who noticed the way her body flinched at the sound of the cuffs snapping together around his wrists. Her mouth thinned with unhappiness at the same time her teeth chewed at the inside of her cheek.
Gray didn’t even think she was aware that she was doing it.
She started to take a step to follow the officers as they led away her father, but one of them called out behind him, “Stay where you are, ma’am.”
Everyone waited and watched. The sound of people shuffling uncomfortably where they stood was like the unsettling scratching of leaves against a window in the middle of the night.
Once Martin was out of view, in unison, all of the spectators turned toward Blakely. And that’s when her face flamed bright red.
But Gray had to hand it to her—she didn’t bow under the weight of the embarrassment or scrutiny. Instead, she let her gaze travel slowly around the hallway, as she looked each and every person square in the eye. She practically dared them to ask a question or make a snide remark.
No one did.
Dammit, he didn’t want to be impressed with her backbone.
Walking up beside her, Gray grasped her arm. She tensed and he could feel her about to jerk away from him.
Pressing close, he murmured low enough so only she could hear, “You probably don’t want to make an even bigger scene.”
The sound of her breath dragging deep into her lungs shouldn’t have had any effect on him. Neither should the way her body brushed against his with the motion. And yet, it did.
“Do you really think I care about making a scene?” she whispered back.
“Yes, I do.”
He was close enough to hear her teeth grinding together. But she didn’t refute his statement. Because they both knew it was true.