Page 7

Jules

“ Y ou know, when you said you were taking me to a hospital, I assumed it would be in the same state,” I say as Riley walks into the hospital room, two paper cups in his hands. He sets one in front of me, keeping the other as he takes a seat.

“The man who attacked you got away. He knew he’d injured you and was likely counting on you heading to the nearest hospital. This way, we’re off of his radar for now.”

He’d done as he promised and not allowed anyone to give me medication for the pain, which I was incredibly grateful for. I hadn’t even been tempted because I know all too well how easy it is to slip back into that place where the darkness has a hold on me.

It’s not worth it. I’d rather pass out from the pain. Which I did, twice.

His sister, Lani, has been treating me, and I have to say she’s an absolute delight. A bundle of energy who has this fantastic way of putting a person at ease the second she walks into the room.

Though, I’m not crazy about the handcuff on my right hand, secured to the side of the bed. “So I’m a prisoner now? My nearly dying wasn’t enough to prove that I’m not a murderer?”

“The handcuff is only until I can be sure you’re no longer a flight risk.”

“And where am I going to go? You brought me to the middle of Nowhere, Texas. I have no money, no ID. How exactly do you think I’ll get away?” As I say it, I can’t help but wonder if that wasn’t part of his plan.

My chest tightens, panic at being trapped setting in.

But I’m not trapped, I remind myself. No matter how mad he is at me, one phone call to Odie, and he’ll send someone to come get me.

“I’ve done my digging into your background, Miss Landers. You’ve disappeared with less before.”

He’s talking about when I was a teenager. Little does he know, I wasn’t alone then. And the man who’d taken me had all the resources he needed to make me vanish.

That panic creeps up again, so I take a deep breath.

“Your heart rate is all over the place. You okay?” This time, his tone isn’t laced with sarcasm but rather genuine concern. Something else I have no time for is pity.

“Fine,” I growl, gaze shifting momentarily to the monitor I’m currently attached to.

“You’re welcome, by the way,” he says and takes a drink of his coffee. Everything about this man puts me on edge. Why? I’m not sure. But I’m drawn to him even as I want nothing more than distance between us.

I need distance.

“And just what am I thanking you for? The handcuffs?” Of course, I know exactly what I should be thanking him for. The man saved my life. I’d truly thought I was dead and gone the moment that knife sank into my gut.

His cell rings, so he reaches into his pocket and withdraws it.

After checking the readout, he gets to his feet, leaving the coffee on the counter.

“What do you have for me?” He turns to face me, but his intense blue-green gaze is focused out the window as he listens to whoever’s on the other end of the line.

With his attention momentarily elsewhere, I take a moment to study him. The T-shirt he’s wearing is the same one he put on at the motel room after using the one he’d been wearing to apply pressure to my wound.

I’d been lucid enough then to note all of the puckered scars covering his muscled chest. Even beneath a light dusting of dark hair, they’d been apparent. He’d said he was in the army when I asked about his medical knowledge. Is that where he got shot?

“Okay, thanks.” He ends the call. “We have an ID on your attacker.”

Hope shoves all other thoughts out of my mind. Hope that I can go home, that this horrific nightmare will be over once and for all. “Who is he?”

“Ian Fletcher,” he replies.

“Ian Fletcher.” I repeat the name, but it means nothing to me. There’s no recognition whatsoever. So why did he want my grandfather dead?

“He’s a contract killer,” Riley says. “One who’s been on the FBI’s radar for about six years, ever since he got sloppy at one of his jobs. He’d dropped off the radar afterward until now.”

“Contract killer? Is that what you just said to me?”

He nods. “Someone really wanted your grandfather dead. Enough to pay big money for it. Any ideas why?” His gaze sharpens, and I get the feeling he’s trying to read between the lines.

“No.” It’s not a lie, but it’s not the truth, either.

And he sees right through it. The anger that replaces his normally unreadable mask is absolutely breathtaking. Every one of his features sharpens, and his gaze darkens. If I believed—even for a second—that he was a threat to me, it would have been terrifying.

“I don’t care for liars, Miss Landers. So, if you want me to help keep you alive, then you’re going to have to be honest with me. Complete transparency.”

“I don’t remember asking you to keep me alive.”

That anger sharpens. “Fine. When the doctor releases you, you’re welcome to take your chances out there with Fletcher hunting you.” He turns on his heel, grabs his coffee, and starts to walk toward the door.

Panic floods my system at the mere idea of him leaving me here alone. And where did that come from? When did I start to trust this man?

He did save my life. And he’s the best chance I have at finding my grandfather’s killer. “Fine. Okay.”

Riley turns toward me and smiles, all anger gone from his face. How does he do that so quickly? Shift between moods as though it’s as simple as pressing a button to change the channel?

“Great. Then, let’s start with honesty. Did you know someone was after your grandfather?”

“No. Not at first, anyway. It wasn’t until after he was killed that I realized something had been off.”

“What do you mean?”

“He was just acting weird. My grandfather was always an open guy. Happy, bubbly. But the last couple of weeks, he’d been distant. Quiet. As though something heavy was on his mind.”

Riley downs the rest of his coffee then tosses the cup into the waste bin and crosses his arms. The muscles of his biceps bulge beneath his shirt, and I have to force my attention to remain on his face. “He never mentioned why?”

I shake my head. “I’d asked him about it, but he just said he wasn’t feeling well.”

“Did you happen to see anything the day he was killed? It may not have seemed like a big deal, but anything you can remember will help.”

I think back to that day—from the time I woke up and made my grandfather and me breakfast. Eggs and toast. We ate together as we read, something we did every morning. He’d been reading a mystery, and I was reading a romance novel between a private security expert and his client.

“It was a relatively normal day,” I tell him. “I made breakfast, and we ate. Then he went up to his study to work on his book.”

“He was writing a book?”

I nod. “He’d been working on it for a decade, but since he’d officially retired from acting, he was taking it seriously.”

“What were you doing while he was upstairs?”

“Cleaning,” I tell him. “He fired his cleaning lady two weeks before—that was one of the strange things. She’d been with the family for nearly twenty years, but he let her go. I took over her job.”

Riley studies me as though it’s a shock I know how to dust. “So you spent the day cleaning?”

“And doing laundry.” I try not to be offended. After all, he hasn’t hidden how he sees me. ‘Red-carpet princess’ is what he’d called me. Little does he know I haven’t been seen as a princess in a long, long time.

I swallow hard, that all-too-familiar darkness tugging at me again.

“You are not defined by your past.” I repeat my grandfather’s words to myself, my way of beating the darkness back in place.

“And nothing seemed off?”

“My brother had come by the house, but that was typical for a Wednesday,” I tell him. “Odie would come by, and they’d have a financial meeting. Odie was more frustrated than usual, though.”

“How so?”

I narrow my gaze as I recall the anger on my brother’s face as he left the house. “He just looked angry. I asked him about it, and he said that our grandfather was just getting stubborn in his old age. Then he told me I missed a spot on the floor.”

“He told you that you missed a spot?”

“Odie and I have a strained relationship, Mr. Hunt. It’s been that way for as long as I can remember. He’s a couple years older than me, and I think we just never really connected.”

“He seemed pretty worried about you when he came here.”

“Sure. I’m the only family he has left. Just like he’s mine. No matter how rough our relationship is, we’ll make it work because of that.”

Riley nods.

“Have you told him that you found me?” I’ve been half expecting him to charge through the doors to check me out and usher me off to some off-the-map facility until I’m once again presentable enough to bear the Landers name.

“No. I told him that I would check in when I had something to share.”

“Why? You were pretty ready to call him before.”

“I don’t have all the pieces,” Riley says. “And the more I learn, the more I’m convinced he’s not telling me everything.”