Page 87 of Fortress of the King

“The call came through encrypted, Jessica, it’s very difficult to –”

“So that’s a no.” I put my head into my hands. I can’t even hide my grief and sadness anymore; I take a few deep breaths before losing it altogether. “My name’s not Jessica, you know, but I bet you already knew that.”

I don’t have to look up at him to know he holds a knowing expression on that immaculate face, he seems way too handsome and sure of himself to be in this line of work. Like he should have a desk job, as a banker or stockbroker. Not a P.I. who may or may not be set out to rip me off.

“I had a hunch,” he says quietly. “Plus, I followed you home.”

That makes me sit up and take note. “You followed me?” I gasp, though I am not sure why that surprises me.

“Look ….. uh, Rayne, that’s your name, isn’t it? You know it’s hard to help you when you won’t help me and tell me basic information, such as your real name. Lying to me only hinders this whole operation. We could have cut several corners if you’d have just given me the truth and not just some version of it.”

The next sound out of my mouth sounds like a strangled cry. As if this wasn’t going to be a problem. I’m such an idiot.

“I need to know it all from the start. God knows how long this has set us back. How can I find any trace of your sister when you don’t tell me the truth, or tell me the simple details of your colleague?”

I swallow hard. So many lies. “I’m sorry, all right, I wasn't thinking straight since my sister has been kidnapped and is currently tied up, God knows where, and I can’t even help her. Nobody can help me. I’m fucked. And now the demands are just getting stupid, now I have to ki–” I stop in my tracks.

“Now you have to what?” he repeats.

Tears start to fall down my face; I can’t stop them anymore. I’m at everyone’s mercy except my own.

A strange thing happens at that moment. I feel his hand on my back, comforting me, and I welcome it because I am fucking human after all. It’s a soft gesture and it has a calming effect.

“I have to kill him. My… colleague. They sent a photo of Mia tied up. He said they’ll throw her into the Charles if I don’t do it…”

He frowns. “The stakes have definitely gotten higher.”

“There’s a file coming through tonight with all the details. I don’t know anything yet of how or where or when.”

He nods like he understands, but he has no clue about my dilemma right now. How can he? He’s a P.I., not a cold-blooded would-be murderer. “Show me the photo.”

I reach for my phone in my pocket and hold it toward him, I can’t even look at it, or I may throw up again, and I really don’t want to do that in front of him.

He looks sympathetic, at least. “Despite how horrific this is for you, showing you some proof is a good thing, Rayne. They want what they want pretty desperately.”

“Meanwhile, Mia is still alone and suffering.” If my mind wanders for long enough, I may just will my heart to stop beating right now.

“I’m sorry, I really am. Obviously, the situation has escalated much quicker than I anticipated,” he says. “This person wants revenge in a big way, and what alarms me even more is they haven’t asked for money.”

“I don’t have any.”

“No, but clearly you could get it if you work together.” He looks deep in thought.

“What else do you need from me?” I swallow down my fear.

He glances at me. “Everything. We need that file; the contents are crucial. I think we should go to the diner around the corner and have a coffee to discuss everything. You can tell me about what happened from the start. And no more secrets.”

I nod. It's more than reasonable.

“If you’re honest with me, this will be a lot easier on the both of us,” he adds.

“I understand, I’m sorry, Enzo. I’m way out of my league here, and it’s not like I’ve ever been in this kind of situation before.” I’ve no idea how to tell him that the ‘colleague’ is the head of the Boston Mafia, and the man I’m also falling for.

But it has to come out, all of it. I can’t do this on my own, I’m going to have a nervous breakdown.

He gives me a kind smile as I wipe my tears with my sleeve.

“You know the red kind of suited you,” he says, gesturing towards my hair, as I realize I have a messy bun sticking out the back of my baseball cap.

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