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“You’re all full of big, complicated reasons and orchestrating whatever huge ambushes, but there’s a very simple reason why this Jones wants me involved and doesn’t want you moving in on Brutus.”
“Yeah?” I snatch the beer from her and set it down, then cross my arms. “Why?”
“This Jones wants something beyond the one behind it. The thing is, he doesn’t know who this maestro is,” she says. “But I do.”
THIRTY-SIX
dakota
Hate sparks in me, flaring into life all over.
I hate them all.
My father.
These other guys, Malone and Mercer.
And I hate, most of all, the man I’m in love with, the man who’s trying to push me away, who thinks I’m a silly, spoiled thing.
Because Orion’s staring at me like he’s never seen me before. I’m young. Compared to these men, I’m the world’s most naïve idiot.
Except… something clicked while I was listening to them. The voice I thought I heard that night I dreamed of Orion. And then other things tumbled into place.
The invites.
Arizona.
The Collector with the priceless collection.
I almost stagger.
“You know, I should do that, Orion. I should make Smith do something like that. Except I don’t want to live life always looking over my shoulder. I want freedom. And I won’t be safe. We all know that.”
Orion stalks up to me and clamps his hands on my shoulders. “What the actual fuck do you mean, you know who it is and it’s not Brutus?”
“Because your convoluted crap doesn’t make sense. Simple does. If this Jones has some kind of vendetta, he’d go for it. He doesn’t know who the maestro is and he needs to, because he wants something,” I say. “He knows this maestro wants me. So to him, I’m that key. If you all stay cool and let me do this, then if I get taken again it’s not going to be to that island. I’ll be where the maestro intended me to end up in the first place.”
“How would he know that?” Orion asks, his voice deadly.
I swallow because Orion’s a one-man army. “I’m guessing but… if Jones has just found out I was wanted by the maestro because of the second time I was taken, your Jones sees an opportunity. Use me as bait, see who turns up, and then follow him to where he takes me.”
Orion’s face is dark, blank, and the others are still as tension vibrates in the living room. “Jones is a dead man.”
Now I grab Orion. “It makes sense is all. Please listen…”
“For you? I will. For now.”
“Question for the more stupid of us.” Malone raises his hand, then points to my father. “Who is the maestro if it’s not Brutus?”
“Trent Eddington.” I level him with a hard stare. “Beyond rich art dealer, gallery owner, and art collector.”
“But I…” Malone trails off. “Eddie Stone, aka fucking SlyGuyZero.”
“Trent wants me, and the priceless collection he keeps swearing he’ll add my art to and would love to show me is in Arizona. I think Jones wants what’s there.”
“Out.” Orion doesn’t raise his voice, but Malone and Mercer leave.
Then it’s just Smith remaining. “Dakota?—”
