Page 87 of Undercover Desires

“Where’s Reader?” I ask the burning question on the tip of my tongue.

“Back at the station, he had some work to attend to.”

I know he's sick of my questions, but the anxiety of being trapped in the house makes me talk more than I should, and he’s got the answers to all my questions. I look him over, wondering if one more would be pushing my luck. “When will he come back?”

“When he feels like it. I don’t have his schedule,” he snaps, leaving the room again. I hear the kettle boiling.

I feel around my ankles, trying to loosen the rope. Heavy footsteps alert me to his movement again, and I sit back up, trying to look innocent.

He takes a seat at the kitchen table, a fresh mug of coffee in his hands.

I wonder if I can get him to untie me by saying I need to use the restroom. There might be a window in there I could escapethrough. Somehow, I doubt it. But maybe I could persuade him to help me. “It’s not too late for you, you know.”

“For what?” he asks, unimpressed I have started talking again.

“To do the right thing. It’s never too late to change.”

The look on his face tells me all I need to know. “For me it is,” he grumbles. He’s spent a lifetime on his own, hiding from reality. I guess he’s resigned to the fact that this is as good as it gets. He’s Reader’s bitch, and there is nothing he can do about it. I’m sad for him. He looks broken and filled with regrets.

“Why did Reader tell me my father died as a mistaken identity?”

His eyes flash with something. A hurt, I think. “Reader does what he wants,” he says with regret.

“What did he do?” I ask, my anger kicking up a notch. I know he knows what happened to my dad. I can see it in his guilty expression. “You owe me at least an explanation. We both know I’m not getting out of here alive, so at least let me have that.”

His head drops, and I think he’s not going to say. Disappointed, I stare out the window, drinking my coffee. All my life I thought I wanted to be a cop, but Reader has destroyed my faith in other humans. If I get out of this place, I’m not sure this is what I want anymore.

“It was the one and only time I told him to fuck off when he wanted a job done,” Duncan mutters.

I glance back at him. He wants to talk about it. “And he killed my dad because you said no?” I feel my heart restrict.

He rolls his lips. “You don’t stop talking, do you?”

“Tell me,” I demand, anger radiating out of every pore. I need the truth, and he knows it.

“When Brandon moved back to town, Reader worked it out. Our connection. I don’t know how, but he came to me one day with a proposition. I get Brandon to help his case and get his friends to back off with their drug ban. Reader thought it was theperfect solution. But I couldn’t get Brandon involved. I was so proud of my son for getting out of this town and making a name for himself, despite his thug father. I wouldn’t drag him back into it.”

“So, you told him no for once. Why did he kill my father and not you?” A stray tear runs down my face as I think about him. It’s all so unfair.

“He said I was still useful to him. It was a warning. Next, it would be Brandon. Thank God he moved away when he did. Took the target off his back. That’s when Reader focused all his attention on the Riveras.”

“You have to help me take him down, Duncan, please. He can’t keep getting away with this. All the people who have died because of him, it’s sickening. Your own brother. And after he’s used me to get to the Riveras, it will be them next, and then what? Someone has to stop him, please help me.” I know I’m begging now, but I have to. Who knows how long we have before Reader comes back. He’s my only hope of surviving this.

We hear a car pull up. “For fuck's sake,” he says, picking up the chair I’m tied to and carrying me into the bedroom I was staying in.

“What are you doing?” I ask in a panic.

“Stay in here and shut the fuck up if you know what’s good for you.” he demands, his face hardened.

“Okay,” I whisper, staring back at him, scared. Who the hell just pulled up? Is it Reader or someone else I need to worry about more? Because from the look in his eyes, he’s worried, and that’s not good for me.

He closes the door, and I hear the lock flick. I waste no time untying my feet. I’ll stay here like he said, but I’m not staying tied up just waiting to be killed. I stretch my legs, rolling my ankles around. The wooden chair I have been tied to looks like itwould come apart pretty easily, and the legs just might give me the leverage I need to break through the window.

Before I have a chance to do anything else, the door swings open, and Reader stands in the opening, a sardonic sneer on his lips. He’s gone mad. The power of years of corruption has gone to his head.

CHAPTER 36

KOBE

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