Page 39 of Inside the Wicked

“Hello? Right here,” Adam says as bitterly.

“I’m trying to forget that,” Rix counters without looking at him.

“You’re an ass,” Adam shoots.

“Never would have pegged you as the type to think of a guy’s ass, pun wholly intended,” Rix says, casting a devilish look at him now.

Adam shifts and turns away, trying to disguise the pink creeping up his neck. “Whatever,” he mutters.

I’ve never seen Adam so at a loss, conceding so easily. I pin Rix with a warning look. “I trust him, and he’s got more to offer than you’re willing to see. No one would have believed me capable of anything if it wasn’t for Rhett.”

Rix looks back at the many surveillance feeds in front of us. “Fine, pretty boy,” he says, dragging out a chair. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Adam lifts a brow at the offering, as if the chair is one of those altered to catapult him through the roof. He sits after holding daggers of warning on Rix, who delights in watching his unease. Then Rix leans over him, tapping the keys for a few seconds, which switches the feeds.

“What am I looking at?” Adam asks.

“I’ve been tracking my idiot younger brother,” Rix says. On another screen, a map appears, and there are three red lines. “We know he’s staying here. These other three locations are as far as we can track him before he disappears, so we’ve assumed he’s been granted access to three of Lanshall’s secret setups. But mostly, he goes here.”

Another screen pulls up an establishment in a more rural part of D.C.

“Foxglove Country Club? My dad frequents there,” Adam says.

Rix gives him a curious look. “Access here ishighlyrestricted and by personal invite only.”

“It’s just a golf and equestrian resort ...” Adam says, puzzled. Then his face relaxes as he leans back with a note of dread. “Pleasetell me it’s just a golf and equestrian resort.”

“By all official registrations, yes.”

“Why do I get the feeling there’s a ‘but’?”

“Well, it’s not like any of us are going to get an invite,” Rix says, straightening. “Perhaps you can be useful after all, pretty boy.”

“Can you not call me that?”

“Since you asked so nicely, I’ll use it more often.”

Perhaps bringing Adam in on this was a bad idea if I’ll have to suffer their bickering.

“Do you think you can go with your father next time?” I ask him.

“I don’t see why he wouldn’t agree. He’s always complaining we don’t spend enough time together.”

“Golf and horses not your thing?” Rix asks. I wait for the teasing remark to follow, but he actually seems curious about Adam for once.

“Too pretentious—where my father likes to go anyway. I went to another club with him once.”

“So if he doesn’t let you go with him ...” I trail off.

“Guess we’ll have our answer that the club is a cover-up,” Rix says.

I really fucking hope Rolf Sullevan doesn’t turn out to harbor some dark, vindictive secrets like Gregory Forbes.

I shake my head, pacing away with the weight of the possibility. It would break Adam if his father was involved in anything as heinous as trafficking. And I don’t think I could handle the heartbreak either.

“I know my father,” Adam defends at everyone’s unspoken fear. “If there is a cover-up, he won’t know anything about it.”

“Let’s hope so,” is all Rix says.

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