Page 66 of Queen Of Dark Money

Sheblinked stupidly at the phone as the screen went black, then tossed it on the desk.Herlips were pursed so tight thatIwas afraid she might flatten them permanently.JustwhenIthought she might break down and cry, her arm swept across my desk, scattering everythingI’dhad sitting atop it.

Witha guttural scream, she slammed her hands down, her head following in quick order.

Ialmost missed the words that fell from her lips as she sighed.

“Nevertrust a fucking snake.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

KENZIE

Thatrat fucking bastard.

Thatfilthy fucking rat bastard sonofabitch.

Echoingin my head was my mother’s warning from years ago when she kicked out her last boyfriend, a dude whose only goal was to sneak in and rob her blind–Frank?Todd?Billy?Icouldn’t keep his name straight.Hewas just another shit man in a sea of shit men, circling the pier like sharks, waiting for the first sign of blood to pounce.

Nevertrust a snake.

Andnow, hereIstood, all my trust in the wrong fucking person yet again, out of desperation and need.Andhe’d basically refused to confirm whatI’dbeen saying all along.Infact, he doubled down on the farce, the sister swap as it were, and pretendedIwas his legitimate daughter.Cait.

Anyonewith eyeballs could tellIwasn’tCait.Butapparently, these men didn’t have eyeballs that worked, because not a single one of them realizedIwasn’t who they thoughtIwas.Theycouldn’t see past their own need to the fact thatIwas thicker than my sister by far, with thighs that rubbed together, boobs that bounced, and cheeks that weren’t sunken in.

Ormaybe they were blinded by something more than greed.Oraspirations.Wastheir dick truly such a powerful organ that it could lead them around on its own?

Ifelt two hands come to rest on my shoulders, and for once,Ididn’t have the energy to shove them off.Iwas disgusted, appalled, and even more convinced now than before thatImight very well become fish food beforeEddySinclairdecided to play ball.

Hehad one daughter still.Aslong as he kept playing along, things would go according to plan–hisplan.Hecould let theKingskeep me, string them along, and then find a way to bring them down in some sting or whatever.

Myloyalties were to the wrong man, but what choice didIhave at this point?IfIstood a chance at being rescued,Ineeded to keep from rocking the boat.Thatmeant playing along, being a good little captive, and waiting for the rescue team to do their thing.

Icouldn’t trust a criminal.Iknew that.ButcouldEddySinclairbe trusted any more than they could?

IguessI’dfind out soon enough.

“Hey, don’t worry–that was all for show.YouknowIdon’t plan to hurt you,”Riverreassured me, but just because he claimed to be a good guy, did not make him one by default.Ihad experience with bad guys and ‘good guys’, and the only difference was, good guys insisted they were truly good.Thebad guys didn’t bother.Theyknew what they were, and they embraced it with gusto.

“Yeah, but theKingsmight be another matter,”Ipointed out. “Andyou said they were my actual captors.Youjust work for them.”

Iraised my head as he kneaded my shoulders, working the stress from them with magic fingers.Histouch was absolutely rejuvenating, andIwanted nothing more than for him to keepdoing what he was doing.Iwanted him to never fucking stop, because the minute he did, the weight of all this shit would come crashing back down on my shoulders, andI’dbe left with what?

Nothingbut pressure and anxiety and desperation.

Fuck, how must my mom feel right now?

Iturned my gaze onRiver, turning on all the sad girl energyIcould work up.Itapped into my genuine concern for her wellbeing and let my breath catch in the back of my throat.

Hemight not believe me, but what other choice didIhave?

“River,Ineed you to listen to me.AndIneed you to keep an open mind.”

Hisface went from concerned and sympathetic to closed off in a heartbeat.Iknew what was coming, butIhad to try.

“I’mnot entertaining that little story about being a woman from the other side of the country, your twin’s twin, or whatever.”

Ibatted my eyelashes at him, playing on that protector instinct as hard asIcould. “Youknow damn wellEddySinclairis a liar.Whatmakes this any different?Canyou trust he’d actually admit over the phone, where he knows damn well someone’s listening in, that he has two daughters?Thatmakes it twice the security risk.”

Hisbrows drew together, the thought crossing his mind,Ihoped, that perhapsSinclairSr. was the one with the false story.Hisfeet carried him back and forth in his office as he contemplated the idea, silence stretching uncomfortably between us.

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