Page 128 of Perfect Pursuit

“Thank you.”

“The second thing I wanted to share is don’t let what happened tarnish your ability to believe in people—particularly Ethan.”

I step back and glare. “That’s not really your decision to make.”

“No, but there are few men in this world with the level of integrity he holds.”

I scoff at that.

“Fallon, he was livid and a complete asshole—no question. But did he ever mention bringing in the police? The FBI? Any type of authorities?”

I hesitate and wrack my memory. “Well…no.”

“That’s because you were his primary focus, not me. Not this baby. You. Despite his grossly misplaced fury, his focus was always about you from the moment he knew you were involved in this mess. Romantic? Trusting? Hardly. Real? Eye-opening? Absolutely.”

I don’t even know I’m crying until Leanne dabs at the tears on my cheeks. “Think about what you would have done—what you really would have done in a similar situation. If you’d caught him—say in a chat flirting with a woman—with no obvious explanation.” With that, she steps into the elevator.

I open and close my mouth, uncertain about how to respond when the doors begin to close on her. She waits until they’re almost shut before shouting out, “Riley rules!”

With that proclamation, I find myself laughing at the end of an emotional evening.

And wind up awake the whole night thinking.

CHAPTER SEVENTY-ONE

Whiskey vs. whisky. There is a difference. To summarize, whiskey refers to grain spirits distilled in Ireland and the United States. Whisky refers to Scottish, Canadian, or Japanese grain spirits.

—Fab and Delish

Sitting in my hotel room, I dial a number I rarely use. Normally, the bastard is the one calling me. Before I can be blasted for using it, I go on the attack, “You couldn’t bend your precious rules, you bastard? You couldn’t tell me the truth before my life turned to complete shit?”

Thorn releases a sigh before excusing himself to whomever the fuck he’s with. “Let me get somewhere I can talk.”

“Fine.” My voice is flat, devoid of emotion.

When Thorn comes back on a few minutes later, he informs me, “I went to the secure space. You’re good to talk freely, Ethan.”

“I have nothing to say to you that I haven’t said already.”

“Then why the fuck did you call me?” He’s bewildered as if I’m as single-minded as him when it comes to completing a mission.

“Why didn’t you tell me about Fallon’s mother?”

“Why did it matter? You—” he starts.

“Because she matters to me!” I roar.

There’s absolute silence on the other end of the line before Thorn comes off his high horse to add one and one together to get two and not complete some complex theoretical thought process questioning whether one exists. I know this because it’s half a second before he spits, “Fuck!”

A painful burn starts at the top of my eyelids. I swallow the watermelon size lump around my throat before I say, “I…I should have told you Fallon’s the type of woman who would do anything for someone she loves.”

“Ethan.” This time Thorn’s voice is as raw as mine is.

“She…Helen, not Fallon. She was the most non-judgmental person I’d ever met.”

Something tickles my cheek. I swipe it away impatiently. “Apparently, all the money she was supposed to earn from Devil’s Lair went to paying her mother’s medical bills.”

His voice is gruff when he gently confirms, “That’s what Q?za found after she did a deeper dive on your woman.”

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