Page 52 of Cunning Lies

CHAPTER16

VI

It’s almost midnight.Caffeine pumps in my veins, each twitch of energy like another volt of electricity. My thoughts are wild. Apparently, our client didn’t want anything to do with Legendary Analysis, so Uncle Jay is making me hunt for better information.

But the office is locked, which means I’m searching in places Iknowdon’t have any answers.

I poke through dresser drawers. Go through pockets. Open nightstands. Check under the mattresses. Even go through his boxes of clothes and whisky. But there’snothing.And I still refuse to tell Uncle Jay about Golden Honor Firearms. Kenzo is supposed to be in a meeting with them right now, and by withholding that information from Uncle Jay, I have control. If I decide to go against Kenzo, then maybe I’ll tell our client myself. Make an independent deal without them, so Patrick and Uncle Jay will have to askmefor help.

And in the back of my mind, I’m starting to wonder if Kenzo is right, that Patrick really did rape me. And if so, what does that say about Uncle Jay?

I adjust the phone against my ear.

“How does the financial controller of the mafia havenothingof value in his apartment?” Uncle Jay asks, his voice crackling over the speaker.

“Look,” I snap. “His office is locked. I tried lock-picking it, but it’s digital—”

“Digital? Have Patrick look at it.”

I tap my fingers on the phone in irritation. I’m not going to be with Patrick by myself; Uncle Jay knows that.

“You have to bring him,” I say.

“I’m not his babysitter—”

“No, you’re his father!” I interrupt. “Now—”

The door at the front of the penthouse beeps; someone is coming inside.

“Gotta go.” I hang up as the door slams open. It’s Kenzo, but this time, there’s no singing. It’s just the clicks of his shoes. The hum of his breath. He fixes himself a drink in complete silence.

My stomach clenches. I’ve seen Kenzo’s switch to calculated silence happen a few times before, but I don’t know what it means right now.

What happened while Kenzo was out?

“You’re home,” I say. ‘Home’ is strange on my tongue, but it feels good too.Home.Even if this is only ‘home’ for a few more weeks, it’s still better than being stuck in hotel rooms while Uncle Jay and Patrick are out conning ‘friends.’

Kenzo faces me, his dark eyes bloodshot and full of fire.

Blood trails across his cheek.

My arms heat with fear. I hate being out of my comfort zone—Uncle Jay and Patrick usually only mess with gullible, lonely souls, and Kenzo doesnotfit that bill.

He steps closer, his eyes searing into me.

“You’re not as innocent as you seem,” he says, his voice level, like he’s been sitting on this situation for hours now, and that is so unlike Kenzo. It’s a warning. My skin crawls with nerves.

“I already told you I’m not a virgin,” I whisper.

He invades my personal space. Ginger surrounds me as heat waves come off of his body, warming my skin. But Kenzo doesn’t touch me. It’s almost like he’s giving us distance on purpose, like he knows he can’t stop himself once he gives in to his urges.

Blood stains his gloves too. He must have hurt someone.

Did he kill someone?

“What happened?” I ask, gawking at the bloody leather.

“I’m a bad, bad man, Vi,” he says, violence penetrating each word. “But you’re a bad woman too, aren’t you?”