Page 75 of You're To Blame 2

Mr. Finch searched every room of the condo for listening devices, and explosives.

I sat on the off-white sofa twirling the door key between my fingers. The light from the street lamp cascaded through the window across the gray paisley chair across from me.

Heavy footsteps pounded the wooden stairs.

“Why are you sitting in the dark?”

“I didn’t want to touch anything until you were finished with your walk through.”

He nodded. “Smart.” Mr. Finch rubbed his gruff face. My tall, stalky bodyguard continued into the kitchen.

“Where’s Tate?”

He stepped back into view, flipping on the crystal chandelier.

“Not sure.” My smile rose and fell. “He’ll be here.”

Mr. Finch’s ears perked up. “Someone’s at the back door,” he whispered. His fingers flew over his lips.

My heartbeat pounded against my ribcage. Did someone find our secret place?

My bodyguard slipped his gun from his holster and stalked toward the back of the house.

“Hands up,” Mr. Finch growled. His deep vocals rattled my body.

“What the hell? It’s my house.”

“Keep your hands up and walk into the living room.”

Tate’s brooding face came into view.

“Ms. Culver, is this Tate?”

I walked toward him. “Yes.”

“How can you tell them apart?”

“Tate grew his hair out. We also agreed on a secret number only he and I would know.”

Tate’s hands remained in the air.

“What’s our number?”

“Eight,” he sighed.

I fell against his thick winter jacket. Tate kissed the top of my head and gripped my waist. His strong arms squeezed me tight through my coat.

“Thank you for keeping her safe, Mr. Finch.”

“You’re welcome. Why did you enter the back door?”

“I parked two condo units back.” He gestured over his shoulder.

“Just in case someone was watching us they wouldn’t see us walk into the same house. It was also best we didn’t arrive at the same time. I had to drive around for twenty-minutes before arriving to ensure no one followed me.

I stepped beside Tate.

His heavy hand landed on Tate’s shoulder.

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