Page 29 of Exposed

“You’re a Carter, so you must have plenty in common,” Micah notes.

Damn. Micah has no finesse.

Brax leans forward and rests his elbows on the table. “Then why did you move to Miami?”

“I had an opportunity,” Goldie states, but leaves it at that.

Brax and Micah glance at one another.

“And what would that be?” Brax pushes.

When Goldie’s voice shakes, my gut tightens. “Why do you care? You told me you had questions about The Pink, yet all you’ve done is ask about Dex and me. I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Shit,” I mutter.

The guys don’t back down. This time it’s Micah’s turn. “Your father owned The Pink since the eighties. You moved to Miami shortly after his death and started working there. The timing is … noteworthy.”

Her lips—ones I know how they feel intimately and taste on my tongue—press into a thin line on her beautiful, anxiety ridden face. She doesn’t confirm her employment or anything else for that matter.

Brax goes on. “Recent evidence suggests money is being laundered through The Pink.”

Goldie’s face turns ashen, and her deep brown eyes glass over.

I can’t tear my gaze away from her face, even as Brax flips open a file and begins leafing through papers. Goldie swallows as a stray tear falls from her dark lashes and lands on her cheek. She doesn’t move to swipe it away.

And now I really want to know what’s going through her head, because the look on her face isn’t shock.

It’s guilt.

“Why did you quit The Pink?” Brax demands.

She shakes her head slowly.

Micah lowers his voice. “Goldie, it would be advantageous for you to trust us.”

“I can’t trust anyone,” she whispers. “No one.”

Damn. That’s a jab straight through my heart after what I did to her last night.

Brax sighs. “Let’s switch back to today. Why are you running away?”

That did it. She swipes her face, and there’s a backbone to her tone. She’s pissed. “I’m not running. I’m moving home. I’m being forced to move home. I can’t land a contract. When I think I might have prospective business in the pipeline, they either cancel on me or try to take advantage of me.”

Yep.

That shot is straight at me.

Brax glances at Micah, but Micah—the asshole—turns to look at me through the mirror.

Goldie doesn’t miss it.

Damn him.

“That’s it.” Goldie’s chair scratches against the floor as she stands. “I don’t have to tell you anything. Even if you arrest me, I can do the wholeI refuse to speakthing—it’s my right. And if you go so far as to arrest me, good luck keeping me locked up. I haven’t done anything wrong. Not one thing.”

“Sit down and talk, Goldie,” Micah demands.

She grabs her purse and shrugs it up her shoulder. “I shouldn’t have wasted my time. I’m done.”

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