Page 74 of Sweet Deception
Darren’s boss andfather, of all people, might be coming to kill me within the next few hours, and I need to give them a reason not to. Instead, I’m busy reminiscing about the way Darren held me so close that I cried. How he melded his body into mine with such tenderness that the connection we share became undeniable.
I want to fold my knees to my chest, bury my face, and scream.
This is so nerve-racking.
I’m in so far over my head, I’m suffocating. I know I’m going to drown. But I can’t allow myself to fall apart. I won’t. Not until I find Lucy and bring her home. She’s my lifeline, the only thread left that ties me to my sanity, to the person I was before I crashed that wedding and free-fell into Darren’s life.
Eventually, he slides into a parking space on my block, and we’re both out of the car in seconds, jogging toward the entrance to my building with Piro tucked under my shirt.
The sun isn’t visible anymore, though darkness hasn’t yet fully swallowed the colorful sky above us. The streetlights are just blinking to life, and honestly, I hardly recognize the place. Seems impossible that the last time I was here, purple fog filled the air and men with guns wanted to drag me off to whatever hell awaits the women who fall into their clutches.
I take the stairs with Darren hot on my heels. He catches up, and I can feel the tension in the arm he snakes around my back as we climb. He’s supporting my weight, probably to relieve pressure from my ankle.
The thoughtfulness of that gesture overwhelms me.
I’m so stupidly touched that I can’t even thank him.
The door is splintered near the knob where Darren kicked it in. As soon as we cross the threshold, the familiar scent of my two-bedroom space washes over me.
My tiny square foyer only fits a few people, with the archway that connects to the kitchen on our left and my living room on our right. Past the living room, a short hallway leads to the guest bedroom, the bathroom, and my bedroom.
I make a beeline for the guest bedroom, and Darren sticks to me like a shadow.
“Is that a biometric scanner?”
“Yes,” I breathe while pressing my thumb on it. “I keep all my high-security files in here.”
The scanner beeps, I open the door, and we both step into my official home office. Teal walls. A small circular rug in the center. Two filing cabinets. An extra-long desk, and a multi-monitor setup.
“I’m guessing this is your command central.” Darren does nothing to mask the amazement in his voice as he peers around.
“Right again.” I hurry to the cabinets, unlock them, and carefully pull free the files I need.
He follows me to my desk as I lay the folders flat. “This is proof?”
“Yes.” I spread them out and hold one up, opening it for him to peruse. “Carefully anonymized records of women I’ve assisted. The digital trails I erased, the new identities I created, everything.”
He thumbs through the pages, eyes scanning at laser speed.
“Nothing about family operations,” I continue while he skims. “Just escape routes and fresh starts.”
Darren lifts another folder from the desk and checks through it. “This is good, Nika.” He rifles through another one, and one more after. “Really good. This definitely proves your innocence.”
Do I hear relief vibrating in his voice?
“Darren.” My heart thumps against my ribs. “Why are you trying to help me?”
He glances at my monitors. “Do you have digital versions of these files?”
“Of course.”
“Download the evidence to this.” He produces a small flash drive from his pocket. “Now. We don’t have much time.”
I nip the drive from his fingers, fire up my mainframe, and do as he instructs.
Seeing him so matter-of-fact and businesslike only puts me more on edge.
We must really be in trouble here.
