Page 11 of Claim Me
Sister. I didn’t know he had a sister. “Where is she? What are you worried about?”
Charlie managed to grip my hand, his hold much stronger than I would believe possible. “Listen to me. My dad did something stupid, making promises. A loan. Stupid man. He paid the price. So did my mom. I refused to allow my sister to be hurt. She’s special. She’s beautiful.”
“Slow down. What about your mom and dad?”
He shook as if bargaining with the devil for more time. “Go to my house. There’s a safe in my bedroom behind my dresser. Do you remember the amount I always bet in blackjack?”
Fuck me. He was asking me to remember something from way too long ago. Then it came to me. “Yeah, I do.” What had his father promised? “Where are your parents?”
He smiled. “I knew you’d remember. They’re dead. Killed. My sister doesn’t know what happened. It will kill her. You’ll find answers and papers inside the safe. A will. A flash drive. You’llknow what to do.” My God, he was fading. He forced his eyes open again. “Are my clothes here?”
I could barely understand his words, his voice scratchy, likely from a breathing tube.
“Let me see.” I moved toward the small closet, throwing open the door. “Yes, they are.”
“Bring my jacket to me.”
As I pulled it into my hands, I hissed. He’d been shot at least three times in the chest, the burn marks indicating they’d been fired from close range. Blood remained splattered on the fabric, the dull coppery scent keeping my anger at a heightened state.
I did as he asked, constantly checking the monitors. As soon as I laid it across his chest, he took several labored breaths and reached inside. “My wallet. There is a key to my house. You’ll see the address on my license. Check it.”
Invading his privacy seemed wrong on every level, but I pulled the license into my fingers, showing it to him.
“Good. She’s special. I did… my best to… protect her.”
“Charlie.” I was more emotional than I thought I’d be. “Don’t worry. You can still protect her.” My mind tried to process what in the fuck had occurred. If only I’d paid more attention to his friendship, I wouldn’t feel at such a terrible loss. How in the hell could I help him when I had no fucking clue what was going on? I shoved the entire wallet into my pocket, checking the jacket for anything else that might be of use.
There was no weapon, no other papers, but if the cops had been here, they would have taken anything pertinent to the case.
“A trust fund for Marissa. They’ve been following her. They’ll take her. She’s all… I have… left.”
What did he say?
Marissa? Hold on. Wait a minute.
What the… No, just a coincidence.
Then I thought about the home base of the orchestra. Seattle. I checked his license again, staring at his last name. Valentine. Fuuuuck. I’d coveted my friend’s younger sister. Not acceptable. There were certain unwritten codes, realities of honor that even I wouldn’t cross.
I shoved the license into my pocket, scrubbing my jaw. Now wasn’t the time for confessions.
“Promise me you’ll keep her safe,” Charlie begged. “Please. I’m so sorry. I tried to be a good brother. I just… Too strong. Too powerful.”
“I’ll protect her with my life. Charlie. Stay with me.” What he was asking was huge. Whatever promise Charlie’s father had made to Popov wouldn’t be ignored. Men like Vladimir didn’t just walk away. They claimed what belonged to them.
Well, fuck. This could lead to a war that I certainly hadn’t anticipated.
Or wanted.
Yet I’d make good on my promise to keep her safe at all costs.
“What else can you tell me, Charlie?”
Tears filled his eyes and as he’d done before, he clutched my hand. His expression was imploring. There was so much guiltand despair that it gripped an emotional part of me that I usually ignored. Where was Marissa? I needed backup at this point, soldiers who could protect us both while the shit was sorted out.
“Where is Marissa?”
“Flew in from a concert in Los Angeles.”
