Page 47 of Undercover Desires

I put my finger to my lips, silently urging her to keep it a secret. “Just look after her for me.”

She nods with a mix of understanding and affection. “Anything for you. You know that, dear.”

CHAPTER 19

ARABELLA

Our elite patrons aredemanding tonight. It’s a themed night,good versus evil,and according to Xavier, these things always go off with a bang. It brings members back that haven’t visited for a while and encourages everyone to drink more. She’s dressed in devil horns and a red sequined number that doesn’t leave a lot to the imagination. I have on a halo, white bustier, and tulle skirt with angel wings. Not a look I would pick for myself, but I guess I just have to go with whatever life throws at me these days.

I had forgotten how fun it can be to dress up. I guess moving over here with my dad and having to grow up so early so I could take care of the two of us while he was working meant it forced me to grow up quickly, and that kind of stopped me from exploring my fun side. Maybe that’s why, even though this lifestyle is so out of character for the normal me, I’m actually settling into it and enjoying being one of the elite girls. Originally, I thought I would feel like a piece of meat on display, but I don’t. Not at all.

“What did Kobe say to you?” Shelby asks, filling up another tray for me to hand out. Her eyes light up with mischief.

“You really want to know?” I ask, not sure I should tell her. He’s being so flirty with me tonight. And after what happened between us on Sunday night when we were alone, I’m wondering what on earth he has in mind for me. We have had two days apart, and it’s like the distance has only intensified the tension.

“After the look he gave you, I’m dying to know.” She smirks cheekily.

“He said I was an angel on the outside, but underneath, he was sure I’d be the devil. What the hell do you think he meant by that?” I would like to think it wasn’t Kobe who selected this costume for me, but from the comment he made, I know it was. He’s playing a game of temptation with me, seeing how far he can push me before I give into him completely. I’m sure of it.

“I’ve already said it. He wants you bad.” She laughs lightheartedly. She’s in such a good mood tonight, everyone is. I guess dressing up just makes things more exciting. I didn’t tell her or Xavier what happened in the staffroom. When I came back out here, they both looked at me like they knew, but no one brought it up.

I laugh at her as I take the tray to my table. It’s hard to keep up with the demand for drinks. I help the girls as best I can, serving and running orders to tables, smiling politely as I do, then rush back to get the next table's order. When I get back this time, I see my phone screen light up under the bar. Xavier grabs it and shoves it in my direction. “Take it. They keep calling, must be important.”

A sick feeling sinks in when I see the long list of missed calls. It must be Wyatt. He must have gotten a hold of my new number. No one else I know would keep calling me like this. “Hello?” I answer, trying to get away from the noisy crowd quickly.

The person on the other end of the phone says something, but I don’t catch it.

“Sorry, let me get somewhere quieter,” I reply, rushing into the hallway where the offices are, away from the thumping beat of the music and the loud chatter of the partygoers.

“Sorry, what did you say?” I ask.

“It's Constable Cherry with the LA Police Department. I have you down as the next of kin for Wyatt Young.”

“Umm, okay, is something wrong?” I mutter, puzzled why he would call me. Wyatt has a new girlfriend. She should be his contact, or even his parents, anyone but me.

“You're a hard person to track down. The number we have listed was disconnected, and I had to get this one from your realtor. I'm sorry to inform you, but there was a car accident this morning. I'm truly sorry, but your friend didn't survive.”

My heart tightens in my chest. My legs give way, and I slide down the wall to the floor. The dim corridor seems to spin around me. Did I hear him correctly? “I'm sorry, what did you say?” I whisper through labored breaths.

“Your friend, Wyatt. He fell asleep at the wheel and crashed his SUV into a tree. He died on impact. I'm sorry for your loss, Miss Hamilton.”

Uncontrollable tears roll down my face. I heave in deep breaths trying to stop them. “Was it an accident or did he do this himself?” I have to ask, the last conversation I had with him playing through my head.I will kill myself if you don’t come back.

“At the moment it’s been ruled as an accident,” he says, sounding more unsure now.

I already know it wasn’t. He fucking went through with his threat and did this to himself. I cut him off two days ago, stopped paying his rent for him like the girls suggested. It pushed himover the edge. Goosebumps break out all over my skin, and I feel like I might be sick.

“Thank you for letting me know.” I disconnect the call. I can’t talk anymore. How could he do this. His final words to me repeat like a broken record. Years of what I thought were empty threats. I tried everything I could to help him, and I thought it was finally time to claim my life back, some of my sanity. More tears come. I can’t stop them. Instead, I bury my face in my hands and let all the pain of the last few years come out.

I thought I was strong enough to handle anything, but maybe that was a lie I was telling myself. I wanted so badly to be tough, just like my dad, not let anything faze me. But I can’t do it.

A hand comes to my shoulder, and I glance up through blurry eyes. Kobe appears in front of me. “Bella, what’s going on?” he asks, sounding concerned. I stare up at him, unable to speak.

He takes my hand, pulling me up to standing. He’s a haze of black fabric and stubble. I don’t want to show him this side of me, the vulnerable side, but I can’t stop crying. This is all my fault. All I ever wanted to do was help Wyatt, and now he’s dead because I walked away from him. I wasn’t strong enough.

Kobe wraps an arm around my shoulders and guides me to his office, closing the door. He directs me toward the couch, and I collapse, his arm still wrapped around me. I cry into the warmth of his chest. Uncontrollable ugly tears, not just over Wyatt, but over my life. Over everything that has happened since I arrived in Palm Springs, and he lets me.

When my sobs turn into sniffs, he pulls back, looking at me. “Hey, what’s going on,” he says, his voice low and caring. Why is he being so nice to me? He could have just left me there in the hall. I’m not his problem. But he didn’t. Just like the other girls have said, he’s here right when anyone needs him to be.

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