I shake my head, ignoring him and the fire with his fingertips. I don’t know what else I’m supposed to do. He doesn’t understand why I’m wired the way I am—why I short circuit all the fucking time. He’s not my friend. He’s Henry’s best friend.

And that’s why it’s even more important to keep him at bay.

Which isn’t saying much, since I’m barely into their stay, and he’s already seen way too much.

“I’m sorry if I said something wrong,” Jude’s voice is louder than my own thoughts. “I’m just... trying.”

“Trying to do what?” I snap, glancing at him for a split second.

His expression is so fucking soft, I can’t maintain eye contact. “I’m trying to help you.”

Every alarm goes off in my head. “Yeah well, so was he.”

Jude’s aura tangibly darkens. “The guy last night?”

“No,” I choke out. I finally look back up at him and catch my breath at the intensity in his stare. He’s looking at me like nothing else in the world exists. I hang up in the way I’m being seen suddenly, heat creeping through the icy walls I’ve erected.

‘He’s manipulating you. He doesn’t want to help you. He wouldn’t even look at you when you were naked in front of him.’

Why does that matter? I’m suddenly more aware of my inner conversations with the voices than ever, and the realization that I’m not normal hits me—like I didn’t already know that. I rip my eyes from Jude’s and call for Cash.

“Running again,” Jude murmurs from behind me, letting out a heavy breath.

Pretending I didn’t hear him, I clip the leash to Cash’s collar, and tug him toward the door. “I have to get ready for work. See you around.”

“Oh, I’ll definitely see you.”

Something about his words leave my heart beating unevenly, my hands sweating, and my brain screaming at me to keep him at arm’s length. Yet, I still glance back at him, desperate to just catch a glimpse one more time.

Chapter 12

The Hound

I need to be where she is, and I’ve never felt this way before. Don’t get me wrong, I obsess. I obsess over targets. I obsess over finding people’s darkest secrets. But Cher is different. She’s so fucking different. She’s an intricate puzzle with hidden fuses that might cause her to lash out, run, or blush—and I need more of it.

But first, I have to figure out who touched her.

“What’re you doing?” Henry’s voice drifts over my shoulder in a way that leaves me frowning. “Tracking Banks?”

Who? Oh shit. Right. Jaxton Banks.

I sigh, irritated in the moment with Henry, even though I shouldn’t be. “Yeah, I mean, he’s just the same as any other finance guy in Vegas.”

“That’s a...very blanket statement.”

I don’t move, still focused on the screen and waiting for the list of reservations at the hotel to download. Henry has no idea what I’m doing.

“Do you have any information on the party?”

“Costume party at a private sex club,” I answer him blankly. “I already sent you all the information. It’s nothing fantastic. You can go alone.” I’ll be following your sister.

“No, you’re going,” Henry snaps at me. “I hate dealing with those parties. I’m not going in alone. I also don’t think Lydia would appreciate—”

“Then stay home. That’s what I would do. If she doesn’t want you there, then don’t go.”

“Yeah, but I think it’s the perfect time to take him down. Those parties are usually riddled with drugs. It’s a solid move. We can drop him with an overdose, and it’ll go unnoticed entirely.”

I nod, the idea is pretty ingenious. “No one would probably think twice about it. But still... As often as people probably drop dead from partying here in Vegas, I’m sure there’s still the off chance that it might be looked into.”