Page 81 of Veil of Lies

“Stay put, I’ll grab you some water and painkillers.”

I groaned. “Can’t, need the bathroom.”

“Come on, I’ll lift you.”

He scooped me out of bed like I weighed little more than a feather. Which I definitely didn’t. I was no size zero waif. “Ugh, put me down! I’m not an invalid!”

“Shush, you’ll wake Sleeping Beauty.”

I scoffed. “Unlikely, he sleeps like a coma patient.” To illustrate my point, Harley snorted and snuffled before cuddling the pillow I’d just abandoned, still fast asleep.

Quinn continued ignoring my feeble protests and carried me into the cavernous bathroom. The LED spots hurt my eyes, so he switched them off and let ambient light from the bedroom filter in instead.

“I don’t need help peeing,” I gritted out.

“Sure?” he smirked.

“Very.”

He walked back out and pulled the door shut, leaving me in darkness. At least the throbbing inside my head eased off somewhat. Once I’d taken care of business, I opened the door so I could see well enough to wash my hands.

Quinn reappeared with a packet of Tylenol. He switched the light back on and handed me the pills.

“Take two and you should be right as rain in about 30 minutes.”

“Speaking from experience?”

“Ha, no. I don’t usually drink much. Brax, on the other hand…”

Quinn walked away and I tried not to admire the shape of his ass in the boxers he wore, or the intricate ink designs all over his back. Instead, my thoughts drifted to Brax.

Brax drank way more than was healthy. It worried me, to be honest. While he was young and fit now, he risked doing permanent damage if he didn’t cut back on the binge drinking. He’d stayed away from me since the news of my true identity broke and I knew he was drinking in his room a lot of the time. The empty bottles piling up in the kitchen were a dead giveaway.

Not that anyone had commented on it. At least not in front of me. Maybe this was normal. I didn’t know. It wasn’t like we were friends. And probably never would be now.

That made me sad, but I had bigger shit to deal with. Like the stuff Dad had told me yesterday, and the veiled threat from the white supremacist guy in prison.

I still had no clue what to make of it all. Why would some random meathead threaten me? It made no sense. Dad must have told the FBI everything. How could be not? His accounts and computers had been examined by forensic experts and every facet of our life turned over. I didn’t see how he could have hidden anything. It just wasn’t possible.

Yet whoever was threatening me clearly had something to hide, and wanted to make damn sure Dad kept his mouth shut.

Then there was Michael. Dad had hinted Michael was involved. It was hard to believe. Michael had been his lawyer since I was a baby. He’d stepped up after Dad was arrested and handled the defense. Was he really the enemy?

I was going to have to talk to him. But not today. I couldn’t deal with anything right now. My head hurt and my stomach churned with nausea. Plus, we had to check out by midday and catch a flight.

I raked my fingers through my hair. It was all tangled up. Perhaps a shower would help me feel more human? There was a stack of thick, fluffy towels on a shelf, so I took one and turned the shower on. Quinn was nowhere to be seen. I assumed he was using the shower in the other bedroom.

Once the water was steaming, I pushed the bathroom door closed, shucked off the tee and panties I wore, and hopped under the spray. It was bliss. The water pressure was perfect: not too fierce. There were some complimentary toiletries from an expensive brand and I made full use of them, lathering up my hair and body and enjoying the sensation of water on my skin.

It was divine.

My headache had receded now the painkillers had kicked in.

A hand slid around my waist and I jumped. “Oh you’re aw—”

“Nope, he’s fast asleep.”

My eyes widened in shock. What was Quinn doing? He shouldn’t be in here!

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