Page 64 of Little Did You Know

"Text me your flight info, and I'll meet you at the airport."

The question burned in my chest. "Is Olivia in danger?"

The pause stretched too long. "I don't know."

The words hung in the air like smoke, and beneath them, an unspoken warning pulsed: every second counted. The line went dead as I was already rising, muscle memory taking over. Coat in hand, I burst through my office door, the force of it rattling the glass.

"Rachel." My voice cut through the quiet office like a whip. "Cancel everything."

She was already on her feet, tablet in hand, reading the urgency in my stride as I stormed toward the elevator.

"Contact Henry," I ordered. "Tell him to have my plane ready for take-off in thirty."

"Where are you going?"

"New York."

"When will you be back?"

"I don't know." I jabbed the elevator down button. "Keep my schedule clear until I know." I twisted to face her. "Let Hannah know I'm leaving town and ask her to keep an eye on Olivia."

She nodded as she spun around rushing back to her desk as I clicked on the head of my security teams contact sending him a message to put a security detail on Olivia.

They would make sure she was safe until I got back.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Around 3:30 p.m., I stepped into Emmett's hospital room with Walker. The fluorescent lights hummed overhead, casting a sickly green tinge across Emmett's face. Antiseptic burned in my nostrils, mingling with the metallic undertone of blood. The linoleum squeaked beneath my shoes, each step echoing in the too-quiet room.

"Nick." Emmett's good hand clutched the hospital blanket, his eyes darting between me and Walker.

I was thankful he was okay and that I didn't have to go back to Florida and tell Olivia he was dead. But I was going to have to say something soon. Especially now that Emmett appeared to be missing a hand.

"What happened?" My fingers dug into the metal rail of his bed.

"Nick." His voice cracked, tears welling in his eyes.

"No, Emmett." I paced to the window, then whirled back. "What the fuck happened? Did you not pay off your debt? You didn't check into rehab."

He chewed the inside of his cheek, gaze fixed on the bandaged stump where his right hand should have been. "I had more debt than I admitted to. I don't owe one person; I owe lots of people."

My eyes rolled toward the ceiling's fluorescent lights, but I gestured for him to continue, the antiseptic smell burning stronger with each passing moment.

"I thought I could use that money to make more." His voice dropped to a whisper, like a child confessing to breaking a window. "You know enough to pay off everyone."

"I'm going to guess by your current situation that it didn't work out as planned."

"No." He hung his head.

"How much?" I growled.

"It's a lot because of all the interest."

"How fucking much, Emmett? The amount for all of it."

"Honestly, I'm not sure," he said. "It's probably close to a million between all three borrowers."

"A million." The number hung in the stale hospital air. "You think?" I turned to Walker, finding my own disbelief mirrored in the tight set of his jaw and narrowed eyes.

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