Beneath the Truth Page 45


As we walked out, Rix mumbled to me, “You sure you know what the hell you’re doing?”

He could be talking about either me going to see Lachlan Mount, the man whose name no one spoke, or about unleashing the girls on Ari. The answer was the same in both cases.

“Probably not.”

“You know I can’t go with you if you’re heading back into the Quarter,” Rix said, talking about Mount now.

“Don’t need you to. Don’t want you to.”

“If he doesn’t like what you have to say, you might not walk out of that building.”

The cartel didn’t acknowledge the authority of anyone in this city except Lachlan Mount, and no one knew exactly how he held that sway over them. But if he could help me put all these pieces together and get answers, it was a risk I was willing to take. Maybe a stupid one, but at least it was calculated.

“I’ll come out,” I said, hoping I was right. At this point, I didn’t have many other options.

“Good luck.”

I nodded at Rix as I headed to the corner to catch a cab.

36

Ariel

I shut my laptop and stared out at the water. Esme was tasked with researching the top cognitive specialists in the New Orleans area so I could select one for Dad. My instinct was to find the best in the world, but I knew Dad couldn’t just hop on a plane and fly somewhere for a doctor’s appointment. They were still running tests at the hospital, and Heath had asked me to wait to stop by because all the commotion had upset Dad, and he was trying to keep him settled. It frustrated me to no end that he didn’t want me there, but I didn’t argue.

I felt helpless. My fingers itched to dig through more department files, but Rhett had made me give my word that I wouldn’t do it without him.

There were a million and one other things I could do for work, but my mind was too chaotic. I was a scatterbrained mess, and that wasn’t going to help anyone. I needed to center myself and find some calm so I could kick ass when it was my turn.

My gaze drifted from the lake to the pool—a completely over-the-top, ostentatious, resort-style swimming pool with a grotto and waterfall that was sitting there unused. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d put on a bathing suit. Maybe an hour of relaxing would give me what I needed to be able to keep charging forward at my normal pace? I’d learned the hard way a few years ago that I couldn’t work 24/7 without taking a few hours to just breathe now and then.

So maybe that was what I’d do, and I’d be more effective when the time came.

Fifteen minutes later, slathered in sunblock and clad in a bikini from my suitcase that I didn’t remember asking to have packed, I made my way down and snagged a towel from a neat stack in the pool house. The thickly padded lounge chair called my name, and I opted to soak up a little much-needed vitamin D.

I lasted a whole five minutes before I drifted off.

* * *

The realistic dream sucked me in. I was walking down a beach hand in hand with Rhett, my gauzy white dress billowing in the breeze, when he stopped to pick me up and spin me around. Once I was dizzy, he laid me down on the sand and knelt beside me to whisper in my ear.

“You’ll never get away from him. He’s the only one who ends things.”

Wait, what?

The menacing voice hissed in my ear, jerking me from sleep as Rhett’s face morphed into someone dark, a black ski mask covering everything but his mouth. I blinked to try to change the image in front of my face, but it stayed. It was real.

“You hear me, bitch?”

Oh my God.

I froze.

“Yeah, that’s right. You see me. You hear me. Don’t fucking forget it. You can hide in a fortress all you want, but he can get to you. He says when you’re done. Not you.”

Paralyzed by fear, I remained completely motionless except for my blinking eyes. I watched while the man rose to his feet with a malicious smile and bolted toward the lake.

It took me a minute to process what had just happened and yell for help. The sound of a boat ripping away from the shore drowned out the sound.

I snatched up my phone, poised to tap in my code to unlock it, but a text message notification popped onto the lock screen.

* * *

Unknown Number: I told you to be on a plane. That means you get on a plane. You do not let another man touch you.

* * *

My brain spun back to the text I’d gotten from Carlos yesterday, followed by his email with the plane ticket. After I’d confronted him about the pictures of him screwing another woman, I thought the plane ticket was some ridiculously misguided last-ditch effort to return things to the status quo. I couldn’t understand what planet he must be living on for him to think I’d respond, let alone use it. Apparently, his expectations had been different.

A shiver ripped through me as I wrapped myself in my towel and ran for the house.

Who the hell was that guy? Carlos wouldn’t have sent someone, would he? How did he get in without setting off the security? Where was Carver?

The voice echoed in my head. “He can get to you. He says when you’re done. Not you.”

I swallowed the bile rising in my throat as I threw open the sliding glass door and locked it behind me. Once inside, I forced myself to think rationally.

This was Carlos. The nice guy who liked to go out for dinner when our schedules meshed and was my on-again, off-again boyfriend who clearly didn’t limit himself to being exclusive. He wasn’t a crazy psycho with possessive tendencies. He just wasn’t.

My brain, logical to a fault more often than not, couldn’t connect this type of behavior to the man I knew. This was stalker-crazy, and I was too smart to ever get involved with a guy like that. Wasn’t I?

I leaned back against the door, my first instinct to run to Carver and tell him what had happened, but something stopped me.

I’m capable. I can handle this. Carlos isn’t crazy.

I picked up my phone and stared at the text for another second. Part of my mind told me not to engage, but the other part wanted this done and over with, without anyone else having to know what kind of man I might have gotten myself involved with. It was one thing when a security threat came from some rogue ex-employee, but this was a guy I’d dated. I’d slept with. I’d shared things with.

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