Page 43 of No Lies No Promises

Sean tilts his head. “You okay?”

No, not really.

“C’mere. What happened last night?” When he opens his arms, I place my head on his chest, filling my lungs with his unique pine scent. This is where I belong, where I feel safe, where I always want to stay.

“How much do you remember?” As his voice rumbles over the steady beat of his heart, I shut my eyes and focus on shards of images.

“I was talking to Jeff in the bar. Then… the ER. Wait. Pearson said something important… incriminating. I know he did. Dammit. Did you catch it?”

He shakes his head. “Sorry. He jammed the wireless.”

“What a shit show.” I screwed up. “You were right, honey. I shouldn’t’ve taken the risk.”

“All’s not lost. We’re working on Plan B.” His smile melts my insides. He’s entitled to at least one I-told-you-so, but instead, he’s here by my side, being sweet.

Plan B? I frown. “Sorry. Is that something else I forgot?”

“No. Dante and I got to thinking. The night I was arrested, Talon’s Wi-Fi glitched. Thinking Pearson might try it again, we asked Pierre if we could install a reel-to-reel recorder under the bar. Some of the audio is indecipherable, but Dante assured me his guy can clean it up.”

“Wow.” My stomach tightens as I let that sink in. “So, Jeff disabled the router and came to the bar armed with a syringe…we’ve underestimated him. He’s not an employee—he’s the mastermind behind the entire money-laundering scheme. He is Parkhaven Investments.”

I glance up at Sean. “I don’t suppose we can go back to our apartment? I miss Buddy. Our bed.”

“Sorry.” Hugging me closer, chin resting on the top of my head, he sighs. “Have you forgotten about the threat to Rebecca and Grams?”

I had.

Shit.

Chapter 22

Sean

While Lillian showers, I wave to the hall security cams before knocking on the first door to my right. Seconds later, footsteps. After the lock clicks and hinges creak, the bulletproof steel swings out. Dark circles under her eyes, hair in a messy ponytail, Rebecca stands in front of me. If I had to guess, she hasn’t slept.

“Come in…” She studies my face. “How’s my sister?”

Because Lil is her only family, not counting me and Grams, I stick to the truth. “She lost a couple of hours she’ll never get back. Other than that, and exhaustion, she’s fine.”

Inside the kitchen, my grandmother glances up from her sketchbook. Face scrunched, she bites the end of a colored pencil. “You wouldn’t think penises would be so difficult to draw.”

“Perhaps…” Her roommate winks at me as she opens a drawer. “We should book the model for a private showing.”

“Don’t give her any ideas.” Averting my eyes from the drawing, I pull out a chair and straddle it. “Grams, last night, you mentioned my father?”

“Oh yes.” She grabs a flesh-toned Prismacolor from a box of fifty. “He emailed again. Threatened to send me to a nursing home. He can’t, can he?”

“It depends.” My shoulders tense under a heavy load of guilt. For too long, I’d put off our estate planning conversation. This clusterfuck’s on me.

As always, my grandmother reads my mind. “Not your fault. My husband, your grandfather, ruined Roger.”

“How long has he been threatening you?” While I wait for an answer, a mug of steaming coffee appears in front of me.

“Thanks.” I smile at Becks.

“Sure. Looked like you could use it.” The Keurig gurgles as she makes another.

“None for me.” Grams continues sketching, deep in thought. “My son wasn’t happy about my Madam Woo Woo business—said it reflected poorly on him—though I can’t see how. In fact, I went to his office to have it out with him.”