Page 43 of Provoke You

13

That’s a Hell of a Punch

Ela

“What if Old Ben doesn’t show? I don’t like this idea of hiding.”

Matt stared at me. “You know there are guys out there trying to kill you, right?”

“Yes. I know. What I meant is that we’re getting nowhere fast.”

“What do you propose?” He sat on the sofa and relaxed against the cushion I used to let go of my anger. Some of it anyway. Matt’s tactics worked, and now the last thing I wanted to do was sit here and play house with him.

A week ago, I would have said kidnapping Mrs. Turner was, for one, illegal but also overkill. But after all I’d seen since Dad told me about the Baroness deal, I’d say kidnapping was the least of our worries. I’d do anything right now to see Dad and hear him tell me he had nothing to do with this.

“I think we should go see Dad. At the office.”

Matt ran both hands over his hair and met my gaze. “What happens if you don’t get the answer you’re hoping for? If your dad knows about the attacks and doesn’t care?”

So he was thinking it too, but we had no proof Dad was behind the attacks. Shit. Attacks with an s. If Dad didn’t know, he could help me. He could put a stop to the deal and show his investors they have nothing to gain from my demise. I ignored that tiny voice in the back of my head that said maybe my demise was what he was after.

“One problem at a time. Okay? Let’s go tell him that we have good reason to believe that his new venture partners want me gone for some reason. He has to call off this deal.”

Matt nodded and stood, looking all manly and hot in workout clothes. Another reason to go home as soon as possible. Being around the ungettable Matt was pure hell. I needed to get back to my kitchen and my cottage.

“If we go, it has to be today before the people that are after you come up with any more fresh ideas to…you know.”

“Yeah, I know. Meet you back here in thirty minutes? Wait. How do you know Dad’s in town?”

“He hasn’t left New Orleans. I thought for sure he’d call by now.”

“That’s Dad.”

“Hurry.”

I got out of my yoga pants and sports bra in record time and jumped in the shower. My heart raced at the idea of confronting Dad. He’d be offended for sure. Who wouldn’t be offended to be called a killer? It was so farfetched. Dad had no reason to turn against me like this. I pushed the thoughts out of my mind and shut off the water. Dad hated when I got all dramatic on him. No doubt he’d think this was yet another one of my antics, another cry for attention.

Instead of my usual short skirt, I decided to go with white pants and a white top. Nothing too distracting or flashy. I blow-dried my hair and applied makeup. Again, not the usual big eyes and bright lips. Today more than ever, I wanted Dad to take me seriously.

When I came downstairs, Matt smiled at me. “White looks good on you.”

“In case Dad needs help figuring out who the good guys are.” I shrugged.

He was back in his black suit, complete with his usual marine scowl. The night at the lake played in my head. Over and over, I saw Matt barging out of the water to bash one of my kidnappers. A jabbing pain gripped my back again, the same way it did when I tried to swim back to shore in complete darkness.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“Yeah.” I took a deep breath and released it. “It’s going to be a while before I forget about the night at the lake.”

“That’s not something you can forget. But with time, you’ll learn to send the memory away.”

“Is that what you do?”

He glanced down at his hands, running an index finger over his palm. “I’ve learned to live with it.”

“We’re ready, Boss.” Kitt poked his head in from the kitchen before he disappeared again.

“Come on.” Matt ushered me to a black car parked outside our rental.

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