Page 63 of Beyond Question

“We’re at my apartment. I’ll make sure you get to the bank, but you’re going to explain first.”

Renewed panic tightens a fist around my chest. I have no idea when Archer will arrive—only that he will. He’s on his way. He said he’s coming. “If I don’t get that money—”

“How much money are we talking?” Rylan asks.

“Twenty-five thousand.” I pause, then add, “Pounds.”

“Jesus,” she murmurs as she swivels her head to look up at Cabot. “How much is that in American?”

He answers without taking his eyes off me. “Indollars?” he corrects. “Over thirty grand.”

“Plus interest,” I whisper, then slump back into my seat. My savings account has less than thirty-thousand dollars in it. I can’t even pay back what I owe—

“How much interest?” Cabot demands.

I swallow hard and shake my head as I shrug.

“You don’t know.”

I shake my head again.

“How many years’ worth?” He tilts his head. “No, let me guess.” His jaw hardens and the arm he has wrapped around Rylan’s shoulder tightens. “Twenty-nine years, give or take.”

My breath catches in my throat as my eyes widen. How does he know that?

“Cabot?” Rylan asks. Her head swivels as she looks back and forth between us. “Paige, what’s going on?”

“You did a background check on me.”

Cabot doesn’t respond, but he doesn’t have to. It’s obvious. There’s no way he could have known that unless he looked into my past.

My panic begins to morph into something else, anger bubbling to life in my veins. There’s a reason I avoid men like him. The sheeraudacityof this man. Shaking my head, I say, “How dare you? You had no right.”

“I have every right when it concerns my family.”

My gaze flicks to Rylan, whose brow is furrowed as she tries to understand the conversation.

“It’s time to tell us the truth,” Cabot says.

“I don’t owe you a goddamn thing.”

“No?” Cabot scoffs. “You don’t think you owe us an explanation? You don’t think she deserves the truth? At the very least?”

My gaze flicks to Rylan and I shake my head. She shouldn’t want to know the truth. “Take me home,” I demand.

“No.”

I scoff. “No?”

“No, Paige.” This time it’s Rylan who speaks up. “Something is wrong. I don’t want you to be home alone right now. Just come inside with us. Please. Tell Cabot what’s going on—”

My glare stops her in her tracks. “Your precious fiancé can’t save me, Rylan. He’s not anactualsavior. You get that, right?”

“You’ll watch your tone when you speak to my wife.”

I flick my gaze to his. “Or what?” I laugh, then spread my hands. “In case you haven’t caught on, dangerous men are already after me. Do your worst.”

His eyes narrow.

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