Page 62 of Guarded from Treachery

Now that the proverbial moment of truth has come, I’m torn between racing to the door and dragging my heels.

Maybe I don’t want to know.

And thirty seconds later, as I open the door to a trio of grim faces, my jittery anxiety turns to dread.

What did they find?

“Hey, Isles.” Matt steps inside first and pulls me into his arms. His lips press against the top of my head as he hugs me close, and I bury my face into his neck, letting his familiar scent seep into me for a moment.

Then he draws back and looks at me, his gaze sweeping across my face, lingering on the purplish smudges beneath my eyes. His features crease with concern, and he lightly brushes his finger across the dark shadows. “Did you sleep at all?”

I force a smile and an overly bright tone. “Are you saying I look tired?”

To his left, Rhiannon snorts. “Nice, Matt. Maybe you should compliment your girlfriend first before commenting on how tired she looks.”

Matt shoots a quick glare at her as his ears go pink. “I didn’t mean it like that.” Then he swats her arm. “But thanks for pointing it out.”

To me, he says apologetically, “I’m sorry, Isles. You look beautiful. I just…”

But my brain is stalled on girlfriend.

And for a blissful moment, that’s all I can think about.AmI Matt’s girlfriend? We haven’t talked about it, not when things are still so new, but I like the sound of it.

My boyfriend. It seems too small a word to describe the feelings I have for him.

“It’s okay,” Sarah says with a comforting smile. “I’m sure Isla knew what you meant.”

“Yes,” I reply quickly. “I did. And it’s fine. Nothing to apologize for.” I catch Matt’s hand and give it a little squeeze. “I slept.” At his raised eyebrows, I amend, “Well, sort of. But I’m fine.”

“Okay…” Matt frowns. “If you’re not feeling up to this now, we can come back?—”

“No.” Louder than I intended it to come out, I take a breath and repeat more softly, “No. I’m fine. I just want to know.”

His frown deepens. “Alright. But if you need a break?—”

“Matt.” There’s a note of exasperation in Rhiannon’s voice. “I think you’re freaking Isla out more by dragging this out.”

“Shi—shoot.” Remorse darkens his eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to make this harder.” Pausing, he squares his shoulders and sets his jaw. “Rhi’s right. Dragging this out isn’t helpful.”

We all gather in the living room, Matt beside me on the couch, and Rhiannon and Sarah in the chairs across from it. Matt shifts so he’s mostly facing me and takes my hand in his. Then he sucks in a deep breath. “Okay.”

Holding his gaze, I work to keep a quiver from my voice as I say, “I’m ready. Just tell me.”

Matt hesitates. His fingers convulse around mine. Regret flickers in his eyes. “So you know we found a connection between the men at the doctor’s office and the dark web.”

I nod, feeling like I’m moving in slow motion. “Yes.”

“I’ve been investigating, first trying to find the post they mentioned, and then looking for the source.” He pauses, guilt shadowing his features. “I found the post, but not the person who created it.”

There’s obviously more to it than that, or he wouldn’t be sitting here looking like he’s about to walk the plank. “But?”

“But I did find a connection. Your previous employer?—”

“Mr. Remington?”

His lips thin. “Yes. He visited the same site. On numerous occasions.”

My lungs seize. “And?”

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