Page 101 of A Secret and a Lie
“What’d you get?” Ford inquires, passing me a martini as the three of us lounge in his sitting area. He takes the seat across from me in a wing-backed chair.
“Wait,” I cut in before Drake can reply. “Why are the two of you helping me take down the attorney general?”
Blue eyes drill into me, and I take a sip of the perfectly crafted cocktail to hide the way his attention licks up the column of my neck.
“It’s like I told you; I’m on your team. Can’t you see that?”
I nod as I absorb that fact. It appears he may have been telling the truth, but believing he’sonlyon my side and no one else’s is a massive risk.
Rather than acknowledging that nagging doubt, I turn my attention to Drake sitting in the twin chair next to Ford. “What about you? Why would you help me?”
Drake runs a hand through his blond hair. “I’m with him,” he explains, gesturing toward Ford with his chin. “If he’s on your team, then I am, too.”
I suppose that’ll have to be good enough. “Alright. Fill me in…from the beginning.”
Drake’s lips hitch, rolling his bottle of beer between his palms. “Ford asked me if I’d sleuth for some dirt on York. I figured I could find something we could blackmail him with. Guys like Percy are always sticking their dicks in places they shouldn’t.” He glances at me and cringes. “Sorry, I meant no offense.”
I titter, waving him off.
“So, I was thinking I’d discover he had a mistress or maybe that his kid sells coke, you know, the usual shit. Instead, I hit the jackpot.”
Ford and I regard him intently as he beams at us, pausing dramatically before he reveals, “He’s running a sex ring.”
Vociferous laughter bursts from my belly like a flood from a fire hydrant whose top has just been lopped off. There’s simply no way. The two men observe me as I continue to bellow and guffaw, raw amusement chewing me up. It’s comical to think Percy York could be running a sex ring.
“Where did you get that intel?”
“It’s solid. I met up with my contact at the Department of Defense tonight and he mentioned that York was the man to see about getting cheaper company.”
My laughter dies a sudden, abrupt death as it’s immediately shoved into an airtight coffin.
“It’s true that you’ve lost employees, isn’t it?” Ford chimes in.
With a tense and shaky inhale, my grip on the stem of my cocktail glass tightens until my bones nearly protrude through the skin covering my knuckles. I take a sip of my martini, the drink having lost its flavor. A cyclone of rage and indignation churns in my stomach until I think I might be sick, and I set the cocktail down on the side table. Climbing to my feet, I stalk toward the window as if I could somehow seek fresh air through the glass.
“Yes,” I confirm with my back to the room.
I don’t want to admit that this theory might have legs, but it does. It explains my incarceration and Bree’s odd behavior this evening.
“If that’s all true, then he’s been in operation for months, possibly longer,” I muse aloud. A sliver of my brain reminds me that I don’t fully trust these men, not like I do Corinne and Marcus, but I need to process this news, so I take the leap of faith.
“Why do you think that?” Drake asks.
“Bree came to me months ago, telling me she wanted out and was starting a family with her fiancé. I didn’t think anything of it at the time, especially since sex isn’t always something people want to do long term, but now I suspect that she left me to work for him.”
How could I have missed this?I close my eyes, crossing my arms. My head throbs, but the ache in my chest is what hurts the most.
“So, he got elected so he could take out the competition,” Ford surmises.
They’re going to take you out.Milton Torres’s last words filter back to the forefront of my mind. At the time, I wasn’t sure whotheywere.
While I can’t kill every shitty pimp, Percy York needs to die, and I want to be the one to deliver his fate. I have no doubt that Percy is just another Leo wearing different skin. Bree’s discomfort tonight is proof of that. She certainly never acted that way when she worked for me.
I gulp down air, holding it for a few beats before releasing it in an effort to regulate my pulse. It requires six measured breathsbefore I feel a semblance of sanity creep back in as I consider how I might destroy him without my former employees getting caught in the crossfire.
With a sigh, I turn back to face the two men and announce, “I’m going to bed.”
I stride for the guest bedroom, not stopping until I’m within the confines of my bathroom, the door shut behind me. I plant palms on the counter, breathing through the urge to throw up. I should’ve anticipated something like this. How could I be so blind?
