Page 104 of Chasing Sparks

Ash,

You’ve got yourself a nice setup here. Oriana’s quite the prize.

I wonder, does she know about the skeletons you keep?

Or is honesty still a luxury you can’t afford?

Good luck keeping all your cards in play—someone always has a better hand.

– Kevin

I tug a hand through my hair, my emotions spinning. What the fuck? I don’t even know this guy, and yet he’s threatening me?

Oh, hell no. Time for me to track this bastard down and show him that keeping your mouth shut and out of other people’s business is always the best move.

Then there’s his mention of Oriana. I knew this piece of shit was after her. I don’t know what game he’s playing, but if he thinks I’ll stand by while he messes with her, he’s dead wrong.

I crumple the letter and toss it onto the desk, reaching for the bottle of whiskey in the drawer. Screw the glass. I twist off the cap and take a long pull, the burn doing little to temper the fire in my chest.

“Skeletons.” The word rolls bitterly off my tongue. I’ve had enough of them. I’m tired of being haunted by ghosts I didn’t invite.

Deep breaths, Ash. Focus. He’s just trying to get in your head, and you can’t let him win. He’s got nothing on you. Hell, he doesn’t even know you.

The vibrating hum of my cell phone slices through the tension, the unknown number flashing across the screen. My guttightens as I stare at it. Instinct tells me not to answer. Logic tells me it could be important.

Pick up the damn phone.

“Yeah?” I bark into the receiver, still on edge, wondering if it might be my new nemesis on the other end.

It’s not.

“Ash.” Her voice trembles, raw and barely audible.

“Lucille?” My grip on the phone tightens, and I push out a sharp breath. Of course, it’s her. “How the hell did you get this number?”

She sniffles, her voice cracking. “I need your help.”

I scrub a hand over my face, the weight of the day pressing heavier. “What’s going on?”

“I can’t explain over the phone. Please—it’s important.”

“Lucille, you can’t just?—”

“Please,” she interrupts, her voice desperate, trembling with fear. “Don’t say no.”

My jaw clenches, torn between frustration and an ingrained sense of duty. I don’t owe Lucille anything, but the terror in her voice sets alarm bells ringing in my head.

“Where are you?”

She rattles off an address I recognize immediately:The Camelot Inn. A goddamn cesspool.

“Stay put. I’ll be there soon.”

I stride to the front door five minutes later, pulling Braden aside. “I need you to take my consult for the afternoon, okay?”

“What’s going on?”

“Lucille called, and she’s begging me to come get her at a motel a few towns over.”

---