Page 12

CHAPTER 12

T aschen kept his arm around Sephie as they watched TV from the hotel bed. Her head rested on his shoulder and his hand curled around her thigh.

Sex with Sephie had been fucking explosive. Addicting. And if he said he was just talking about the orgasm, he’d be lying. She’d come alive in his arms. For the first time since he met her, she’d shed the skin of despair that covered her, baring the beautiful, carefree woman beneath.

Maybe it’d been their connection, or his affection. Or maybe her letting loose stemmed from too much pain and grief in such a short time. Either way, he was grateful she’d found an escape.

He wouldn’t think about where things might go from here. Sephie was the whole package. Perfectly wrapped. With a bow. And a card made out to him. But his dumb ass kept making the same mistake: wanting more than the woman he fell for did .

It’d happened with Cecile and Shantal, both fun, beautiful women who hadn’t shared his serious take on love. Staying active with Backcountry kept him from seeking a long-term relationship that most women he’d met weren’t after.

Whether or not Sephie was different wasn’t important right now, though. He was getting paid to keep her safe, not get in her pants. There was no help for the latter because he definitely wasn’t shelving that shit, but he’d damn well complete the former before asking for anything more.

His phone buzzed on the nightstand and he stretched to grab it. Brick’s message lit the screen. His friend and colleague was wondering how things were going. Taschen had a shitload to tell him, but not without Sephie’s permission.

Sephie yawned and stretched. “I’m so tired. We should go to bed. I’d like to see Yvette early so we can get back to Kevin. I miss him.”

He squeezed her leg. “Me too. I bet Dana’s having a ball with him, though.” He pulled his arm away and slid from the bed. “Brick’s checking in. I should give him a call.”

“Sure.”

“Do you mind if I share with him what we found?”

Some of the light in her eyes dimmed, making his gut lurch. After the evening they’d had, the last thing he wanted was to steal some of her joy. But at the end of the day, the same people who’d violated Clay were after her. These were people who needed to be behind bars, and he couldn’t make that happen alone.

Sephie rolled her bottom lip between her teeth. “Yeah. I mean, it feels wrong to tell people when Clay doesn’t even know what happened... but I realize this is big information that could hurt us all.”

He dragged his knuckles over her cheek. “I’m sorry. I wish none of this was happening. But you’re right. We can’t go to the police, at least not unless we get the video to someone trustworthy. Backcountry employs some of the best tracers and trackers—and if it’s something they can’t do, they have access to select people who can. I wouldn’t trust anyone else with this information.”

Determination puckered her brow. “Do whatever you have to do to protect Clay.”

He gave one nod and rose from the bed. Hiding the video from Clay was important, but what everything boiled down to was keeping Sephie safe.

Sephie got out of bed and padded to the bathroom.

Taschen tapped Brick’s contact icon. The line rang in his ear.

“Hey man,” Brick said. “How’s things?”

Taschen blew out a breath. “Fucking wild, man.” He sat in the chair near the window and rubbed the heel of his palm against his forehead. Wild was an understatement. Wild described his tussle with Sephie. The video was catastrophic.

“Yeah? She okay after today?”

He flicked his gaze to the closed bathroom door. “She’s... struggling a bit. We got some intel that proves shit’s a lot worse than we imagined.”

Brick whistled. “Holy hell. What’d you find out?”

He leaned forward, resting his elbow on his knee as he stared out the window into the night. Only the reflection of their lamp and TV obscured his view of the water. “It’s a lot to explain on the phone, but we were given a jump drive with a video on it. Pippa had it secured in a safety-deposit box. This information is... devastating for Sephie. But I also can’t even fathom what Pippa went through knowing what she did. I think she either shared the video with the wrong person or tried to implicate the bastards and they found out.”

“What’s on the drive?” Suspicion clipped his friend’s words.

“It’s bad, man. Don’t watch it on a full stomach, and make sure you’re in a trusted area.”

Brick cursed. “I don’t even want to know.”

“Nothing is shown, really. But we can assume what happened.”

Brick muttered something beneath his breath. “All right. Send it over.” He paused. “Can I show the team?”

“Do what’s necessary to find out who created the video, if that’s even possible.” He pinched his brow. Who was he kidding? The video didn’t show the face of a single person besides Clay, and he was no help in this situation. They had stone fucking walls, capes, and masks to go by. That was it.

“I’ll do what I can.”

The bathroom door opened and Sephie’s worried gaze met his. He flashed her a smile that he hoped looked reassuring. “Thanks. Appreciate it,” he said to Brick, then disconnected.

Sephie slipped her bare legs under the covers and flopped down on her pillow, her cheek nestled in her palm, her focus on him. “What’d he say?”

Taschen moved to the bed and bent to press a kiss to her hair. “He’ll help in any way possible. Rest. I’ve got to do a bit of work on my laptop. I’ll come to bed in half an hour.”

She closed her eyes. “’Kay. Night.”

“Night.” He clicked off the lamp and went to the sofa, shutting off the TV on his way. The extra pillow and blanket sat at the opposite end of the couch. He’d fully intended to sleep here and give Sephie the bed, but now he wouldn’t have to go that route.

The room was dark, but he could work without light so she could rest. He opened his computer, found the video, and sent it to Brick.

His team was good, but if they could pull something usable from the video, they were better than Houdini.

** *

Sephie sighed and nestled deeper into the pillow. Light filtered through her eyelids, but she didn’t want to open them. Warmth cocooned her body, and it wasn’t just from the covers she was burrowed beneath.

Taschen’s long, bulky arm lay over her waist, his hand drawn up tightly against her ribcage. His chest was pressed to her back and his steady, hot breath fanned over her hair. She couldn’t have been more concealed if she wore a second skin. And she didn’t want to move an inch.

His legs shifted against the backs of her knees, but he stayed against her. His movement made her suspect he was about to stir, and sure enough, he inhaled long and slow, his arm stiffening against her belly.

As if realizing it was her in his arms, he relaxed and pulled her closer. His lips found her cheek and he sighed. Her heart thrummed and butterflies beat their wings in her belly. She’d slept cuddled with him all night. She had a vague memory of him sliding into bed behind her, but otherwise she hadn’t woken the entire night. Which was a damn miracle given yesterday’s events. If she’d ever needed a solid night’s sleep, it was now.

She opened her eyes. Sunlight streamed through the hotel curtains, creating shafts of light on the walls and floor .

Taschen must have sensed her alertness because his palm opened on her belly and he moved his thumb in lazy circles. “Morning,” he mumbled. The sleepy, gruff tone brought a smile to her face.

She turned in his arms, bringing her chest against his sternum and her face close to his. “Good morning.” She brushed a kiss over his lips, and the gentle scrape of his stubble sent tingles to her nipples. Memories of the previous night taunted her mind.

As if he had ESP, his hand moved to her butt.

“Ah, ah, ah,” she warned. “I need to see Yvette, remember?”

“Yeah,” he grumbled. But his eyes were still closed, his muscles lax and warm. “What time does she want to meet?”

She glanced over her shoulder at the clock. “Shoot. She said nine. It’s almost ten after eight. We’d better hurry.”

Slowly, he cracked open his eyes. “We’re lying half naked together, my cock’s been hard all damn night, and you want to just jump out of bed?”

She smiled slyly. “That’s not exactly what I want to do, but it’s what we need to do.”

“I think you and I have different needs.” His flat, unamused tone made her laugh.

“Your fault for sleeping in.”

He turned onto his back and stretched. Every line of his torso was taut and perfectly sculpted. “I can’t remember the last time I slept eight hours.” He rolled to a sitting position and stared down at her.

His fingers went to her hair. “You might have to stick around so I can do that again. My body needed it.”

His words latched on to her heart, but then the smile pulling at her cheeks slowly fell away. She didn’t want to put weight in pillow talk, but Taschen brought forth emotions and aches for connection that went far beyond the sheets and closer to something she might unearth in a therapy session.

Not what she needed right now. His protection? Yes. His friendship? Absolutely. Hell, she even needed the intimacy they’d shared. However, anything more than that would have to wait until she could think past what had happened to Pippa and Clay. Until her life was no longer in danger. Because right now, emotions were high.

This was likely the worst possible time to jump into a new relationship. She cared for Taschen, and if he felt the same way, they’d examine this later.

Before she could respond, he climbed out of bed. “I’m going to hit the shower. If you want to save time, best thing to do is join me.”

She snickered as she watched him saunter to the bathroom shirtless, his briefs hugging his high, tight ass. She got out of bed and followed.

After all, time management was her strong suit.

** *

Sephie and Taschen made their way out of the elevator in the hotel where Yvette was staying. After a quickie in the shower, Sephie had barely managed to slap on some makeup and get dressed before they had to leave. Stopping at the café in their hotel had been a necessity. While they hadn’t had time for food, her hot tea had accelerated her pace. She’d also bought a cup of coffee for Yvette.

She’d texted her friend to let her know they’d be there shortly, but she hadn’t responded. Knowing Yvette, she was probably speaking with clients despite the early hour. The woman barely stopped working.

As Taschen led the way down the hall, apprehension rose in Sephie’s gut. The possibility of learning anything else as sordid as what had been on the video made her want to vomit. But she didn’t have a choice. She couldn’t put blinders on. Couldn’t do anything but face every turn head-on because not only did the truth about Pippa’s death ride on the information, but Sephie’s life did, too.

She rapped her knuckles on the door of Yvette’s room and waited. Her gaze drifted to the jamb and she froze. The metal piece that automatically locked the heavy wooden door wasn’t latched.

Tension gripped her shoulders and the breath whooshed from her lungs. Her hand turned ice- cold despite the hot cup she was holding.

Dead silence beat the air.

“Taschen,” she whispered.

His gaze met hers, and she pointed to the door. She wanted to back away. To run. But icy paralysis kept her rooted to the spot. Taschen reached behind him and withdrew a gun from his waistband. “Stay here.” He moved her to the side, the gun in both his hands, and shouldered open the door.

Panic beat her skull ferociously. Her legs wobbled and she leaned against the wall for support.

Taschen’s sharp curse sent her flying into the room.

“Yvette?” she called.

Taschen extended his arm to stop her. “Get back,” he ordered.

The sharp, pungent scent of death hit her first. She pushed past him and skidded to a stop in front of the crisp white bed drenched in blood. The paper cup slipped from her fingers to land at her feet. Hot tea splattered her leggings, seeping through. Yvette lay sprawled on her back, her gaze forever locked on the ceiling.

“No!” She lunged forward.

Taschen scooped her up, dragging her away from her friend.

Tears rushed from her eyes, scalding her cheeks. She pushed at Taschen’s arm, but he turned her so his body was positioned between Yvette and her.

“Please! She could still be alive. I have to check—”

He lowered his forehead to hers. “We’re too late, honey.”

“No, no, no.” Dropping her head to his chest, she clung to his shirt. Cold disbelief rushed through her. “She can’t be dead,” she whispered.

“Baby, I’m so sorry. She’s gone.” He paused. A sharp, angry exhale came next. “There’s too much blood. Her throat was slit.”

“ No .” The simple word wobbled. Trembles overtook her, and pain radiated through her body, making her teeth chatter.

Taschen’s arms held her in a death grip, his embrace so tight she couldn’t give in and sink to the ground, couldn’t break into a thousand pieces like her heart had just done.

“She’s—She’s all I have,” she whispered. The words came from somewhere so deep, so untouched inside her that she hadn’t known that chasm of agony even existed.

His warm, firm lips pressed to her temple. He rocked her gently. “You’ve got me, babe. And when I find out who did this, they’ll wish they’d never hurt you.”

Minutes passed. She didn’t leave the cocoon of his arms. She was vaguely aware of him taking out his phone and calling the police.

When he hung up, he gripped her shoulders, forcing her to look at him. “I need to find the letter Pippa gave Yvette, but this is a crime scene now and I don’t want to screw anything up. You’ve gotta wait in the hall for a couple minutes, okay?”

She sniffed and wiped the tears off her cheeks. Somehow she kept her chest from caving back into his. She tensed every muscle in her legs so she wouldn’t crumple to the floor like a wet rag. She might have just had her world yanked from beneath her feet, but she wouldn’t let Yvette die in vain. “Do you think they already found the letter?”

His mouth firmed. “They could have. Any idea where she would’ve kept it?”

“No.” She shook off his hold because the warmth of his hands only made her want to disappear into them, and right now they had minutes before the police arrived. “But I’ll help you look.”

“No. Just wait in the hall. I won’t be long.”

She wanted to listen to him. To go in the hall and hide because the idea of going through Yvette’s things while she lay dead only feet away, her body likely still warm, made her shudder. But once the police came, the whole scene would be locked down. There’d be no chance to retrieve the letter—if it was even still here.

She had to find it. For Yvette. “Taschen, I’m helping. We don’t have much time.”

His jaw jumped, but he didn’t argue. “All right. Start with her bags.” He nodded to the couch, which was across the room from the horrific scene on the bed. “Use your sleeve so you don’t accidentally smear any fingerprints. I’ll do the same.”

She pulled the edge of her sleeve over her fingers and lifted the lid of the suitcase. Yvette’s sweet, aromatic perfume wafted to her nostrils. All the clothing had been rifled through, confirming her suspicions. “They looked through here.”

“Over here, too. The nightstands are open, and it looks like her computer was taken from her laptop bag.”

“Shit.” Sephie closed her eyes against the wave of regret crashing into her senses. A ball of nausea sat heavy in her gut. Forcing all thoughts from her mind, she went through the clothing, checking the pockets. She also looked through Yvette’s purse. Nothing.

After pulling the clothing from the suitcase, she searched the liner and the outer pockets. A quick glance over her shoulder showed Taschen checking Yvette’s body.

Guilt and grief swallowed her up to her chin. She pressed her palms to her face. This was no use. The killers had the note. Going through Yvette’s things would only screw up evidence.

Sephie’s mind drifted to yesterday. Seeing Yvette at the funeral. Hearing her calming voice. God, she wished she were here right now. She’d know exactly what to say. But she wasn’t. All Sephie had left were memories. She thought of the last time she saw her. Her last memory of her alive. She’d been wearing her long tweed jacket and—

The jacket .

Sephie ran to the coat closet near the front door. She pushed open the sliding door, and there it was. She dipped her hand into one pocket. Nothing. Turning the coat, she checked the other pocket and her fingers grazed something. She pulled out a small white envelope and read the single word in Pippa’s handwriting.

Yvette .