Page 51 of Betrayed

I nod.

Lie.

He glances at me through the rearview mirror. “You don’t have to do this.”

“Yeah,” I say. “I do.”

“Lucian’s not going to be happy.”

“That’s the understatement of the century.”

He chuckles. “He already gave me an earful on the phone. Telling me he’s going to kick my ass for bringing Gregory out. Now, when he comes at me for sneaking you out? I’ll be lucky if I live.”

“I’m the one he should be mad at. Don’t let him give you a hard time.”

He laughs again.

I launch into a monologue of thoughts, “I’m sorry I have to involve you in this. You’ve already done so much for me. But I believe I can coax Caleb out.” Caleb doesn’t trust strangers, but he’ll come for me. He always has, hasn’t he? I cringe with disgust.

Bayne says, “All you are allowed to do is get him alone. We’ll be watching and we’ll be ready.”

“Then we can end this tonight. And Gregory won’t be exposed to everything Lucian was protecting him from,” I finally take a breath. “Plus, your men can go home. I’m sure they’re tired of babysitting me.”

“We Kings are just fine. Who doesn’t like a little vacation?” He gives me a serious look in the review. “But you stick to the plan. Understood?”

“Yes, sir. Of course.” Still, I clutch my purse close. Just in case I get to use the insulin. Or the knife.

We park near the club where Mary told me Caleb’s runners have been seen—an old industrial warehouse turned into a “private lounge.” It’s the kind of place where no one asks questions and where girls disappear.

Innocent, beautiful girls like Gretchen.

Bayne hands me an earpiece. “Stay sharp. If you see him, give us the signal.”

“What’s the signal?”

“You screaming?”

“Helpful,” I mutter.

“Joking. Anything. We’ll know.”

I take the earpiece gratefully. “Thanks. And thanks again for agreeing to this.”

“I understand the need to take care of your family.”

“Thanks,” I say one last time.

My fingers shake as I step out of the van, heels clicking on the wet pavement. The wind is sharper than when we left, and the sky is heavy with storm clouds. The alley smells like grease, beer, and incoming rain.

I’m leaning against the damp brick wall outside the bar, shivering in a skin-tight black dress that I never would’ve worn before Lucian. It hugs me like a second skin, and the slit up the thigh makes me feel naked in the cold.

I wear it anyway.

I’m bait tonight.

And bait has to be tempting.

The back door to the bar swings open behind me, a flash of light and music spilling out before slamming shut again. But no one comes outside.