Page 52 of Whiteout

“Did you sign anything?” Dragging her back, Sinjin sat her on his lap so she straddled him.

“What?” she panted.

Face to face, eyes level, whiskey bored into blue. “Derek told me he went through the documents with you, and that you had questions.” Stroking her hair, he implored, “I need to know. It’s important. Did you sign any of them?”

“No.” Breanna shook her head emphatically. “And I won’t until I see the will and know what it is I’m signing. He’s supposed to email the documents today.”

“Good,” he said, the tension draining from his face.

“What’s going on here, Sinjin?”

“Listen to me.” His tone brooking no argument, Sinjin tugged on her hair, fisting it in his hand. “For now, it’s best Derek and Francie believe we never met before yesterday. Jordy, Hank, and my mother know differently, of course, but I know they can be trusted.”

“With what?”

He opened his mouth, then closed it, his eyes shifting from side to side. “Aunt Francie is a people-pleaser, a doer. She likes to make people happy. Not that it’s an altogether negative trait, but it makes her easy to manipulate, so I’m on the fence with her. Ted, too.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Exasperated, Breanna shouted, shaking him by the shoulders.

“Protecting you.” His knuckles grazed her cheek. “Making sure you’re safe.”

She didn’t understand. “From what?”

“I can’t tell you.” He looked down to where Breanna sat on his lap.

She raised his chin with her finger. “Why not?”

“Because I’m not sure I can trust you yet, either.”

He probably shouldn’t have said it like that.

It’s not that Ian didn’t trust her, per se, more so how she’d react once she learned the whole truth. Breanna was fiery—her heart ruled her head, and while he loved that about her, he needed her to play it cool. He feared that could be a tall order. What if she went running to Derek and fell right into his trap?

No way was he going to let that happen.

I should’ve stopped him before it ever got this far.

He should have. But back then, Ian didn’t give a fuck. He was so angry for Valerie, even though in life the woman rarely was. Breanna had to be a heartless, spoiled brat who only cared about her grandmother’s money. She’d already gotten way more than she deserved—at least, he thought so at the time.

And I was wrong.

Even if he hadn’t been, what his cousin was trying to pull wasn’t right. While he took no part in it, and would take no gain from it, wasn’t he just as culpable for looking the other way? I am, dammit. What he needed to do was set things right—thwart Derek’s underhanded scheme, and somehow, hold on to Breanna.

Hera looked up at him, her tail thumping on the wood floor. “You want out, do you?”

The pup responded with a bark that he took as a ‘yes’, and putting his iPad aside, Ian got up from the couch. As he opened the door, he glanced across the deck. Breanna sat in her living room with her laptop, gazing intently at the screen. “Go on, girl.”

She looked up then.

He tipped his chin and went to slide the door closed when she motioned for him to come over.

She’d left her door unlocked. With the cold glass at his back, he casually leaned against it, folding his arms across his chest.

“Can you explain to me what it is I’m looking at?”

“Let’s see what you’ve got there.” Ian crossed the room, and sitting down beside her on the sofa, Breanna placed her laptop in his hands. Derek must’ve emailed her the documents. She had at least eight tabs open on the screen.

Holding in a snicker, he gave his head a shake. “Can you make us some coffee? This could take a while.”

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