Page 77 of Soul Bound

“Businessman and current Rhode Island governor candidate Cyrus Montgomery to be the guest speaker at an event for up-and-coming tech companies held at the Conrad Hotel.”

Shaking her head in disbelief, Winslow shoves her laptop at me, “That’s it. I must have done something really bad in a past life because fate seriously has it out for me.”

“Do you think it’s a coincidence your father’s event is being held at the same hotel the auction is taking place tonight?”

“Who fucking knows at this point.” She sighs, her hands come up to rub her temples. She stops and looks up at the ceiling, and exasperated look on her face. “We’re going to have to sneak into his event as a cover. We can find out where the auction is happening once we’re inside.”

“How are we going to get inside?” I ask. “The event is invite-only.”

“I’ll just have Whisper hack in and add us.”

“What would we do without your little hacker friend?”

“Well,I’dprobably be dead if I hadn’t met him,” she says offhandedly. “And we’d still be twiddling our thumbs back in Montana without a lead.”

I frown at her words. “Why would you be dead without him?”

She freezes in her seat and looks at me in shock, almost like she didn’t realize what she’d said exactly.

“Do you have another secret you haven’t told me?”

She brings her knees up to her chest and rests her chin on them when she looks at me, “Whisper helped me hide from my parents when I first got to New York, he showed me the ropes of how to live on the streets. If I wasn’t staying in a shelter or I couldn’t find a bed for the night, he would let me crash at whatever place he was hiding out at.” She pauses, looking conflicted on whether or not she should continue. “And when I started using drugs pretty heavily, he tried hard to keep me clean and safe when I was high out of my mind. He watched over me as I tried to detox multiple times, making sure I didn’t fall into seizures or start vomiting.” She sounds so guilty when she talks. “I was in rough shape there for a little while, but he helped me.”

“You were an addict?”

“Iaman addict. I’m clean and sober now, and I have zero desire to ever use again,” she explains quickly. “I started using when the spirits became too much for me to handle. It all got so overwhelming and I couldn’t find any peace and quiet. The drugs allowed me to zone them out and feel numb. When I’m around ghosts for too long, I start to mirror their emotions. It started to be a lot for me to handle and I just wanted some peace.”

I reach over and take her hand in mine, she’s hesitant at first to let me pull her toward me but eventually, she allows me to pull her onto my lap. I brush her hair off her face. “If you ever feel the need to use again, or the ghosts get too overwhelming, promise you’ll come to me. I’ll take some of the weight you’re carrying. I know I can’t see or hear them like you do, but I’ll be there for you to lean on. I’ll be there for you, Arizona.” I vow.

Her two-toned gaze searches my face and after a quiet minute, she simply nods.

I don’t know if the nod means she understands I intend to keep my promise to her, but I hope it does.

* * *

The hacker laughedwhen we asked if he could get us on the list for Winslow’s dad’s event, claiming it was child’s play and it took him all of thirty seconds to add our names—fake names actually. We are attending the event as Mr. and Mrs. Smith. Winslow had snickered when she heard the names Whisper had chosen for us, joking that he couldn’t have come up with something more original.

We had also made a stop at a high-end retail store around the corner from our hotel, the event was a black-tie event and we couldn’t show up in our jeans and hoodies. I’ve had to wear a suit in the past for pack events and whatnot, and I’m no more a fan of it now than I was then. I can’t stand how restricting they feel and don’t even get me started on the tie. Winslow had joked she was putting on my collar when she had helped me tie the damn thing.

She thinks she’s funny.

Winnie however looks fucking stunning. I find her beautiful when she’s wearing her combat boots and cut-off shorts but seeing her in the floor-length midnight blue dress with a slit in the side up to her thigh is something else. The sleeves are long, covering the scars she tries hard to hide. She’s even wearing a pair of strappy heels; her head is now the same height as my shoulders. The only way we will ever be close in height is if she wears a pair of stilts.

She had used a straightener to smooth out her hair, making her already long locks look even longer and shinier. I had done a double take when I saw she was wearing more makeup than her usual light layer of mascara. Her lips are painted a dark red color and her eyes are lined in a heavy liner. The dark liner makes her unique eyes pop off her face.

“Ugh.” We walk up the carpeted stairs that lead up to the event, Winslow clings to my arm, not wanting to fall as we make our way up. “This is anightmare.”

I stifle a laugh when I see what she’s looking at. On the wall in front of us a huge banner hanging. A classically styled businessman’s face is printed on it. His smile is fake and almost looks pained. In bright red lettering, it says,‘Vote for Cyrus Montgomery; for the people… for the families.’

I hear the loud sounds of people talking and the slightest beat of soft classical music playing from the overhead speakers.

“What a load of shit,” she scoffs. “Do you think I should steal the microphone and announce he faked his daughter’s death so he could get the sympathy vote? And he did this after paying to have her locked in a mental institution first?”

“I think we should try to fly under the radar as much as possible,” I remind her.In and out, that’s the plan.

“Fine, but don’t let me wander off alone. I can’t make any promises if I’m left unsupervised, anything could happen at that point.” She growls under her breath.

“Behave.” I squeeze her arm. “Do you think your mom would be here too?”

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