Page 35 of Who's Saving You
Dante raises a brow. “Yes.”
“My sister was here last week, and said the clientele was less than appealing. Your bouncers should screen more carefully at the door.” Then, in a deadly tone, says, “Tell me what’s going on.”
“Oh? I’ll be sure to follow up on that.” His eyes flick between her and me, like he’s putting something together.
“Fuck.” I can’t help the curse that comes from my mouth as I lean forward on the couch. I didn't want it to be true. I wanted everything Rhett was saying to be a mistake. I wanted those two guys cornering her to have the wrong girl. “Tell me about the article you're writing.”
“Yours?”
“No, the fucking mailman. Of course, mine.”
She rolls her eyes. “If you'd actually answer some interview questions, you’d know more.”
“There’s no time for this, Moreno. Tell me who you’ve been talking to and what you’ve found.”
She holds my gaze. God, she’s fucking beautiful, but she’s up to something, and this has to end before she exposes the whole thing.
With a quick retort, she says, “I’ve done research. Called ZU athletic archives. Reached out for some interviews.”
I don’t need to look at Dante to know he’s fuming. I can feel the heat coming off him. She’s opening doors that were supposed to be nailed shut.
I debate on how much I can tell her, but right now, we’re way past that. She’s in danger, and so am I. Someone knows more than I’d like and now they know she’s ready to tell all. “Do you feel like you’re being watched lately? I’ll bet anything they’ve been tailing you since the other night, andobviously before that. They followed you here tonight. Rhett and those other two assholes were sent to try again.”
“Rhett Daniels?”
My heart stops. “How do you know that name?”
She replies quietly. Gone is the defensive woman, and in her place is someone who’s been caught snooping. “It was in some emails from the university.”
I stand from the couch. “What emails?”
She glances around the room, no doubt realizing she’s alone with three strange men, and me, someone whom she thought she knew. She lifts her chin. “When you wouldn’t talk to me, I told you I was researching your sophomore year. I found some paperwork, and Rhett was mentioned.” She pauses. “As was Trevor.”
“Jesus Christ.” I look at Dante and grind my teeth. “This is all connected, isn't it?”
He holds my stare and doesn’t answer, but I can see his mind is working overtime.
“Rhett went to school with me, but I guess you already know that.” I pause, watching her face. She doesn’t flinch; she just stares back as I talk. “What do you know about Trevor?”
She watches me intently, no doubt deciding what to tell me. “I don’t know much.”
“Malakíes!”Bullshit.
She jumps at my outburst, then clears her throat. “I know he was forced out of Zeiders, and there isn’t a legit reason why. I know no one fought for him, including himself. And I know his name is closely tied to yours. And it’s got everything to do with sophomore year.”
I turn from her, running my hands over my face and stop, connecting eyes with Dante again. He’s calmly watching me, but his eyes are on fire. Everything that'shappening in this room was supposed to be dead and gone four years ago. Noelle poking around is bringing it to light. And somewhere along the line, she disturbed someone who didn't want to be disturbed.
Dante says quietly, “It's connected. Whoever sent Rhett for her knows everything. And Rhett may not have known it, but he’s just connected it and the two of you. Rhett is gonna run his trap to whoever is pulling the strings here.”
“I agree.” I look away. The glass wall gives me a perfect view of the dancefloor below, showing a sea of people who don’t have a clue what really moves under this city. And on the other side of that wall, the real money maker. The real reason for the secrets. Yet, they’re all still dancing in a place owned by someone who could erase them before sunrise.
And I’m upstairs pretending I’m not part of it.
“What have you come across in your research?” I spit the last word with sarcasm.
“I just told you,” she snipes back.
I laugh without humor and scrub my face with my hand again. Dante clears his throat. “And who have you told? Do you already have an article printed somewhere?”
