Page 147 of Obsession

“Tell me again why that name means something.”

“Castellano—Armand’s mother’s maiden name, sir.”

I look sharply at the bank, willing Violet to emerge. “Fuck. You guys find him?”

“No, sir.”

“I’m going in. Spot me.”

“On it.”

Skylar’s opening the door, her eyes sparking. She hasn’t trained to my satisfaction but damn it if I don’t need a second pair of eyes and hands right about now. As we enter, a mother with two little kids sucking on lollipops exits, and Skylar nearly loses her balance. The bank’s crowded, people milling about in line and at various windows. It’s hard to get a read on where Violet is.

“Where is she?” I ask Sky on a whisper. “Do you see his room at all?”

She shakes her head, frowning. Nothing. I feel the tension in the air, and I know we’re being watched. Armand… fucking Armand.He’s behind this, but to what extent? For how long? And what does his mother’s family have to do with this?

“I see her,” Skylar hisses, jerking her chin to the far-right corner of the room. Violet has emerged from an opening door, her chin held high and a glimmer of a smile on her lips. I half-expect someone to come up with a pistol, an alarm to go off… but everything’s remarkably calm. Eerily calm, even. I see one teller look at another, then look my way. In the corner, a security guard talks on a walkie-talkie. Classical music plays in the background.

Skylar frowns, as Violet walks toward us.

“You look down. Why?”

“I wanted a shoot-out,” she says. “In on the action.”

A few people look our way. I roll my eyes and take her hand to tug her toward the exit where we meet Violet. “It’s overrated,” I mutter.

“You look as happy as a lark,” I say to Violet. “Good news?”

“Wait and seeeee,” she sings happily, and for one brief moment it looks like the old Violet’s back. The fierce, independent, indefatigable woman I fell in love with. I’m still in love with.

I have to let her go.

The door to the bank shuts behind me, and I follow the girls to our truck. Still, no one comes riding in with a semi, no one follows us with a gun. Someone’s watching us, though. I know it.

On the street behind the bank, another sleek black car slowly drives by. I catch Skylar’s eye. She saw them, too.

We climb back into our ride.

“Spill,” Skylar orders Violet.

“Got the money,” Violet says with a triumphant grin. “He knew who I was when I went in and showed him my I.D. I told him that I was the daughter of Russell and Anya Bates, and that I had reason to believe they’d stored their money here, at this bank. And voilà.” She shows me a small gold key with a flourish, and a bank statement.

I blow out a whistle. “Wow, baby. That’s a shit ton of money.” Violet will literally never need for a thing. I can’t feel elated, though.

“Why do you look worried?” she asks curiously. “Why isn’t this something to celebrate?”

“Didn’t say that it wasn’t.”

“Ah, right,” she says with that gleam in her eyes that tells me she’s pissed. If we were down by the training field, she’d grab a cudgel right about now. “You’re not pissed, yet you’re not happy, and it doesn’t take a brainiac to figure that one out.”

My own anger simmers. “Oh yeah? You figured me out before I figured myself out, did you?”

“Yeah. You want to be wanted. You need to be needed. And the idea of me being independent and not needing your money makes you insecure.”

“Jesus, no,” I say, shaking my head. “It’s not that at all.”

Why would my mind even go there, knowing that she’s leaving me?

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