by Shayla Black
Lies Sara and her child would be forced to read and endure for a long time because stench like that lingered. No. That wasn’t happening as long as there was a breath in his body. His sister had already been through enough.
Roman shook his head and reached across the table and over the box Everly had found in Mad’s secret room the night before. He bypassed the piles of papers and plucked up three photos. “We know that’s not true, but we did find some weird stuff in that box. Do any of those girls look familiar to you?”
Gabe took the pictures from Roman. Each showed a smiling girl of no more than thirteen or fourteen. The African girl in the first picture looked innocent, dressed in a school uniform, standing outside her classroom and waving. The second photo looked much like the first, though this Indian girl wore a pretty red bindi on her face and a different uniform. A third girl was in a hijab, signaling that she’d reached puberty.
“Why would he keep pictures of random girls from around the world?” Gabe refused to believe Mad had any sexual interest in these children. Hell, until Sara, Mad had preferred older women. Even when they’d been teenagers, the idiot had hit on everyone’s mom. Gabe was grateful to this day that his mother had turned the douche down. That would have been awkward.
“Good question.” Roman shrugged. “But it’s not the only one. I have more difficult questions after talking to the police early this morning. From dental records, they were able to identify the body you left behind at Mad’s. His name was Jason Miller and he was from Brooklyn. Brighton Beach to be exact. He had a nice long rap sheet. Did two short stints in prison for robbery and assault. According to the cops, he was a known thug-for-hire.”
Connor smiled, but there was no humor in the expression. “In fact, they said he worked quite a bit for the mob. Since he grew up in Brighton Beach, I assume they meant the Bratva.”
The Brothers, something the Russian mob called themselves. They ran illegal gambling rackets, along with other criminal ventures around the city. “So the person who hired him might be our elusive Sergei?”
“Possibly,” Roman replied. “I’ve got an investigator looking into the man’s background and known associates. He’s going to ask around over the next couple of days. Hopefully, we can piece together some ideas about who else was involved. I’ve got to head back to DC in the next few days, but I’ll keep my ears open.”
They would all have to resume their lives soon. Dax’s leave would probably only last another couple of days. He had no idea how long Connor had before he needed to be overseas again, engaging in his cloak-and-dagger existence.
“Do they have any line on the identity of the second guy, the one who ran away?” Gabe asked.
“They caught a glimpse of him on a security camera around the corner from Mad’s. The NYPD is flashing it all over Brooklyn, but they’re fairly certain it’s one of a group of men Miller hung out with. They’ll find him eventually,” Connor explained. “And I have zero idea what the rest of Mad’s crap in this box means. Some of it seems to be in code. Or he was really freaking drunk when he wrote it. There’s only one thing that might be helpful. Mad jotted down the name of a private investigator he’d hired, some guy named Wayne Ferling. It’s too early to visit his office for a chat, but I’ll go down later this morning and figure out why Mad hired him.”
“I’ll try to identify these girls.” Gabe could work with Everly. He was kind of eager to see her in action.
“Speaking of private investigators,” Connor began with a grim stare. He slid a folder Gabe’s way.
“What’s that?”
“You remember how you asked me to hire a PI to look into Everly Parker’s past so you could dig up dirt on her? Well, that’s the dirt. Not that there’s too much of it, but no one’s completely clean. They worked fast. I especially liked the rumors that her father was a dirty cop. He claims they’re utterly unsubstantiated, but he says it’s something you can work with. There’s also a cousin in prison and something about her mother. Naturally, the majority is about Everly herself and Maddox. Everyone was willing to talk about them. Shall I tell him to keep digging?”
Gabe opened the folder and shame swept through him. God, he couldn’t even look at it. “I ordered that before I knew who she was. Tell them to send me a bill. I don’t need their services anymore.”
Connor nodded. “First sensible thing you’ve done.”
Gabe’s cell trilled. He yanked it from his pocket, then winced when he saw the caller’s name. Sara. God, in all the craziness he hadn’t called her to explain what was happening. She’d likely found out he’d been questioned by the police and nearly been killed in a fire from TMZ or an Internet news blast. Damn it. He closed the folder and set it on the table. He’d ordered it in anger and he wasn’t going to read a word of the damn thing.
“I’ll be right back.” As the guys nodded, he ran his finger over the screen to accept the call.
He stepped into the living room, leaving Roman and Connor at the dining table. Like the rest of the apartment, the living room was decorated in clean, masculine lines and lots of dark leather furniture. He wondered what Everly’s place looked like. He imagined it was a lot brighter and more feminine.
He took a deep breath and held the phone to his ear. “Hey, sis. I’m sorry I haven’t called.”
“Tell me you’re not sleeping with his whore.” Even with a hundred miles between them, he felt the chill in her voice.
“Excuse me?” He’d never heard his sister say that word. She rarely ever cursed. She certainly didn’t curse at him.
“You heard me, Gabe. Did you think I wouldn’t see? Her picture is plastered all over the Internet.”
“You can’t believe everything you see,” he placated, not liking the anxious fury he heard in Sara’s voice. The doctor had told her to relax. A few weeks ago, she’d experienced some spotting and cramping. Her OB had explained that she had to keep stress to a minimum. “Calm down. You know getting upset is bad for the baby.”
“You want me to calm down? Based on everything in the press, I’m almost positive he left me for her, Gabe. He walked out on our future—our baby—for her. I can’t stand the thought of you even talking to her.”
“Sara, listen. I have to talk to her. If she was involved with Mad, she might know something. You do understand that Mad was probably murdered.”
“I’ve heard that speculation. If it’s true, the list of suspects is probably a mile long. That doesn’t mean you have to sleep with all of them.” A muffled sound didn’t quite mute Sara’s cry, and that tore at him. “Are you sleeping with her? Never mind. I already know the answer.”
What the hell was he supposed to do? He couldn’t let Sara get so upset. If she lost the baby, he wasn’t sure what she would do. Sara was the last member of his family. Their mother and father were gone. He was all she had in the world, and material shit aside, this baby was Mad’s last legacy. “I am spending time with her, but it’s not what you think.”
Because how the hell could he tell his overwrought, hormonal sister that he was crazy about the woman who might have been Mad’s last lay?
Sara wasn’t capable of being rational at that moment. He had to deal with her the best he could until he figured out the whole truth. Then he’d sit down and explain.
“What is it, then?”
The way Sara felt now, he could never turn Crawford over to her while Everly still worked there. He’d have to find a place for his pretty computer nerd, maybe at Bond Aeronautics. Hell, he had the connections to get her a job nearly anywhere she wanted to work. After Sara had taken the reins at Crawford, he would gently ease Everly into his sister’s life. But for now, he had to do whatever necessary to keep Sara calm.
“She’s somehow involved in all this.” No lies there. Surely Everly had information. Until he solved Mad’s murder, Gabe had to keep both of the women in his life safe. “I have to stay close to her because I think she knows more than she’s saying.” Or more than she understood. “Mad dug
himself ass deep into some shithole I don’t understand, but she’s the key. I’ve got to stay on her and tell her whatever she wants to hear in order to keep her close to me.”
“So the press is wrong? You don’t love her?”
Love her? The very word sent a little shiver up his spine. Being in love would mean diving into something he didn’t really understand. His parents had been friends but hadn’t shared any spark or passion. They’d been more like business partners. The way he felt about Everly was entirely different. When he looked at her, a flipping inferno raged through his system and threatened to engulf him. Was that love? Maybe . . . but he wasn’t ready to go there yet.
“Everly Parker is the means to an end. I’m going to find out what she knows and then I’m going to deal with her. I already have a plan in place.”
His plan was to placate his sister and figure everything else out later.
“Yes, I can clearly see that you do have a plan in place, Bond.”
That hadn’t been Sara. Gabe felt his heart drop to his knees. He whipped around.
Everly was still flushed and slightly mussed, dressed in yesterday’s clothes. He watched her face turn utterly white. A sick feeling roiled in his gut. She held the folder containing the PI’s report in her hands.
“You’re going after my dead father’s reputation? That’s very classy of you. You’ll forgive me if I don’t stay around to help you out anymore than I already have, you bastard.” She darted away, racing for the penthouse’s front door, her heels clattering against the hardwood floor, echoing the pounding of his heart.
“Sara, I’ll have to call you back.” Because he couldn’t let Everly get away. God, not like this. She now thought the absolute worst of him. “Take care of you and the baby.”
“All right. I’m sorry, Gabe. I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I’m being selfish. I love you.” Then she gasped. “I just saw online about you being caught in a fire last night? Are you all right?”
That was the Sara he knew, the sweet girl he’d played with during his childhood summers. “I’m fine. I’ll explain later. You have to trust me. I’ll call you soon.”
He hung up, resolving to ring Sara back as soon as he could, then took off after Everly. She must have heard the worst possible part of the conversation and coupled it with that fucking report he’d ordered. Now he had to find a way to make her understand. At this point, he hoped she’d even talk to him.
As he dashed to the front of the penthouse, he found Roman staring out at the private elevator door that only opened here and on the ground floor. Guests needed a code to come to Connor’s place . . . but anyone could go to the lobby. “What the fuck happened?”
“Shit. She ran off?” Gabe had expected her to be angry, upset. He’d suspected he’d be dealing with tears. He’d never imagined that she’d be impulsive enough to run. His whole body went into a deep freeze. “How the hell did she get that report? Where’s Connor?”
Roman’s eyes widened. “She saw the PI report? Fuck me. She must have walked in after Connor went to take a shower. I was trying to hunt down some breakfast. Shit. It was sitting on the table.”
Gabe didn’t reply. He was already out the door.
ELEVEN
Everly willed the elevator to move faster. The folder in her hand practically shook with her rage. God, he must think she was so stupid. The whole time he’d been telling her how much he needed her, he’d had an investigator pulling up all the worst parts of her past.
And those rumors about her dad. She knew who they came from—an ex-con her father had put away. He and his lawyer had tried every dirty trick they knew to get the conviction overturned.
While these rumors are likely untrue, the subject has a soft spot for her late father, according to many sources. Threats of ruining his reputation might silence her on the subject of her relationship with Maddox Crawford.
Or it might have the effect of her shoving something so far up Gabriel Bond’s ass he could never see straight again.
She’d climbed out of bed all but humming and come down the stairs with a satisfied smile.
After the night she’d spent with Gabriel, she’d been on top of the world. Cloud nine. Nothing would get in her way. She’d walked downstairs, ready to work. She needed to see if the receipts from the coffee shop had yielded any leads on her mystery informant. The text from last night had been a bust. She’d already traced it to a burner phone.
She’d gone downstairs, ready to give Gabriel every shred of evidence she had. Connor seemed to know a lot about hacking. He might be able to help her, too.
Unfortunately, she hadn’t found Gabriel. She’d found this file.
She wasn’t going to cry, damn it. She promised herself. No tears. No moaning and wailing. In some ways, she’d earned this betrayal and pain by being so gullible. After all, what did a sex god like Gabriel Bond really want with her? But she refused to let him beat her down. Everly would not sit home alone with her doors locked, wondering where everything had gone wrong. She would pick up, move on, become even stronger.
But right now, the thought of shooting Gabriel Bond in his very talented man parts certainly appealed.
The elevator doors slid open. Through a watery film of her tears, she looked across the dark, private lobby. Crap. So much for not crying.
Trying to suck it up, Everly stepped out of the elevator. She had nothing with her except her purse, that folder, and her pride. She refused to need anything—or anyone—else.
She grabbed her cell and quickly dialed a familiar number.
Scott answered on the first ring. “Everly? What the hell is going on?” His shock was obvious. “Everything is insane here at the office. Did you really almost freaking die?”
She didn’t have time to explain last night or her private hell to him now. They could do that over cocktails at his place. “Can you pick me up?”
“Pick you up?” He hesitated for a moment. “I thought you were with Bond.”
She started across the lobby, eyeing the doorman ahead as he stood sentry in front of the lone door, its glass darkly tinted. “That’s done. I need help, Scott. You usually drive to work on Wednesdays, right?”
“Yeah, I’ve got my car here. Where are you?”
Somewhere on the Upper West Side. Last night she’d seen them drive past a couple of familiar landmarks. It would be best to walk to one of them. Everly had little doubt that Gabriel wasn’t done trying to control her, so he’d be hot on her heels. “Meet me at the Museum of Natural History. I’ll be waiting in the lobby. Text me when you arrive.”
“It’ll take me a while.”
So she’d get some overpriced coffee in the basement cafeteria and hang out with the blue whale until then. “That’s fine. Thank you so much.”
Everly hung up and bit her lip, glancing at the doorman guarding the exit. She marched toward him. No indecision. No hoping she’d misunderstood Gabriel. When he came down here, she didn’t want him to find her wringing her hands and waiting. She needed to be gone.
Everly didn’t have any cash with her or she’d simply hop into the first cab she could find. Yeah, she could use a credit card, but Gabriel would find her in two seconds on the grid. If he couldn’t track her, then Connor would.
Drawing in a deep breath, she pushed aside the pain in her chest. She’d deal with her broken heart later. For now she had to figure out how to counter everything in that damn report.
When she reached the doorman, he didn’t move a single tassel on his uniform, much less step aside so she could leave. “Miss, I don’t think you want to go out that way.”
“Yes, I do. Thank you very much.”
Reluctance crossed his face as he shrugged, opened the door, and stepped back. When she heard a ding behind her that sounded too much like the elevator, she dashed outside into a usual crowd of New Yorkers clogging up the sidewalk.
Suddenly, flashbulbs popped and a roar of shouts with the sound of her name startled Everly. These weren’t typica
l corporate drones walking to work. These people shoved video recorders, still cameras, and more than a few audio devices in her face, all barking for her attention.
Crap, they were reporters, and they were everywhere.
Everly couldn’t move, couldn’t turn back around to the safe haven of Connor’s lobby again. They’d blocked her escape route and invaded her personal space. She felt panicky and sick, as if she’d either throw up or pass out.
“Ms. Parker, who’s the better lover? Gabriel Bond or Maddox Crawford?” A blond reporter thrust a microphone in her face.
A man with a camera elbowed the blonde out of the way. “Are you bitter that Maddox Crawford didn’t leave you his estate since you were his last mistress?”
“Is that why you’re sleeping with Gabriel Bond now, for the money?”
Everly tried to pull back, to push her way out of the crowd, but they circled her like hungry sharks refusing to be denied a
