Carter Reed 2

“This isn’t just for you, is it?”

She shook her head. “AJ wasn’t my kidnapper. He was my savior.”

“I know.”

“We’ll stay?” Her chest lifted and held. Her eyes were so hopeful. As I nodded, she let out her breath. “Thank you.” Touching my cheek, she lifted up and kissed the corner of my mouth. “Thank you so much,” she whispered. “I love you.”

“Emma.” She started to pull away, but I caught her and held her there. “We’re here, but it’s like we’re not. That means no Theresa, no Amanda, and no Noah even. None of them can know. I want us hidden as much as possible.”

“I know. I understand, but I’d like a few nights to spend time with her.”

I wasn’t happy about it, but protecting her from here could be done. I’d just have to be flexible. As Emma headed for the car, Michael came over and waited for his instructions. “We’re going to need a new safe house,” I told him.

“Sir?”

My home wasn’t safe. The Bartels knew about it. If we were staying here, everything had to be new.

Today was going to be a great day.

As soon as I woke, I remembered I was going to spend time with my sister today. After heading home, Carter had gotten a new phone I could use to text with her, and we’d started planning.

We were going to meet for breakfast, then go to a bookstore, followed by a lunch. For the afternoon we’d booked a salon, and then we’d end with dinner. All our meals would be at Carter’s establishments. He’d also approved the bookstore and the salon. Every move we made had to be planned out, and we had to wear disguises. The guards would be doing their blending thing, and they were going the extra mile. Instead of wearing their usual black suits, they’d be dressed like normal civilians.

When we picked Andrea up, she looked at the guards and gave me a rueful grin. “They’re less intimidating now.”

I didn’t respond. Their usual intimidation was conscious, but now they needed to be camouflaged, like me. I’d asked Carter if I should say anything about the Bartel war, but he told me to pretend it wasn’t there.

“Get to know your sister,” he’d said. “If you talk about the war, that could get between the two of you getting to know each other.”

I followed his advice, but after perusing the bookstore, when we sat down for lunch, she brought it up.

“Ummm…” She unfolded her cloth napkin and didn’t look at me. As she placed it on her lap, her head remained focused there for a beat. Then she looked up, and I saw a different look in her eye.

She was about to introduce a real topic, not the casual conversation we’d been having all morning. I readied myself, putting my hands in my lap.

“The bomb,” she began. “I…” She stopped and tucked some hair behind her ear. “Kevin is making me bring this up. I—oh boy—I loved meeting you last night. I know it was unconventional, demanding to see you like that. To be honest, I’d had a little too much wine. I was very brazen until the guards showed up. Then all that liquid courage left me, but…” Her hand returned to her lap. “The bomb. You—you’re okay after that?”

I froze. The less she knew, the better. “Yeah. I’m good. I don’t watch the news. What are they saying about it?”

“That a previous employee did it. Someone who was fired and got angry. That club, that wasn’t one of Carter’s was it?”

“I don’t believe so.”

“Good.”

She sounded relieved. She didn’t know it was owned by the Mauricio family. I wondered how she would’ve reacted if she’d known that tidbit. This was dumb. I was pretending my life was normal and that I could get to know my sister the way normal people would—that we could spend time together, laugh together, maybe even tease each other or fight. We’d have months and months of being around each other. But we wouldn’t. Here we were trying to force it in a couple days. Carter had never said a word, but I knew that’s all I was getting. A few days to cover a few decades of history. It wasn’t enough time, and I couldn’t pretend otherwise.

“What’s wrong?”

I refocused on her. “Hmmm?”

“You made a sound. Is something wrong?”

“Oh.” What did I say? Be honest. That was the only way. I clutched my napkin as I prepared to speak. “Andrea—”

“Call me Andy,” she interrupted, her eyes sparkling.

“What?”

“He called you Alley Cat.”

“Andy. It’s what my friends and family call me. Andrea’s the uptight socialite persona.” She grinned to herself, rolling her eyes. “I have to play that part, but this is nice. I can just be Andy with you. No charades or anything.”

Except for mine. I twisted the napkin around my hand. If it had been made of cheap material, I would’ve ripped it in half by now. “Ah, yes. That is nice.”

“So…” She leaned forward to grab her glass of wine. “You were going to tell me what’s wrong.”

“I was. Yes.” I couldn’t play pretend anymore. “You obviously know about Carter.”

She went still in her seat.

“I don’t know what you know or what you think,” I continued. “But I can’t talk about that stuff. If you want to get to know me, it’s just me. There will be times when you’re not going to see me or you can’t get through to me. That’s just how it is.” ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">