Page 96 of The Wanted One

Once inside the sunroom, I fell to my knees, unable to stop the weight of guilt from taking me down.

The hardest part of reliving the past, something I’d never shared with anyone else, was knowing I left Mom behind. I couldn’t bury her. Mourn her properly. And I hated knowing I had to leave her with that bastard.

Seconds later, Lucy’s soft arms wrapped around me from behind. “Shhh, it’s okay,” she murmured into my ear. “I got you,” she promised.

“How are you?”

I looked up from my untouched lunch where I sat at the breakfast island in the kitchen to see Jack there in the doorway. “Better, all things considered.”

It’d been a few hours since my hasty bolt from the library. Since then, Lucy had cooked everyone lunch, but she’d also kept everyone, including Jack, away from me. I’d needed space. Of course, I hadn’t meant from Jack, but I’d been too exhausted to even voice those words to her.

“You should eat.” He leaned his hip against the counter and folded his muscular arms over his chest. His hat was on. Maybe a new one? Backward facing, so I could clearly make out his concerned eyes.

“I don’t have an appetite.” I pushed away the plate, frowning. “I’m sorry I ran earlier.”

His shoulders dropped a touch at my words, but he didn’t unlock his arms. Those beautiful eyes of his softened as he studied me. And the harsh lines of worry on his forehead became a touch less intense. “You didn’t run. You were speed walking like the elderly at the mall. Very different.”

I had to feel my lips to believe there was really a smile there. But yup, he’d cracked me. Wide-freaking-open since the moment we’d met, if I was being totally honest. And it was time for honesty after eleven years of hiding.

“Well, um, if you’re not going to eat, then maybe you can join us back in the library? Camila just emailed us the video footage. Two men were on camera. No audio and not a great angle of their conversation, but she said both men were from her . . . uh, visions.” He cleared his throat, giving me a moment to take in the news. “We sent their images to our teammate, Sydney, back in D.C. to run through our facial recognition program, but we were thinking—”

“I may recognize them?” I stood, nodding eagerly. Ready to help find this asshole and, hopefully, save those missing women. And please, please still be alive so we can save you all. “Is Camila and her team on their way back here? No problems accessing Shannon’s vault to get the blackmail footage she had hiding there?”

Jack held my hand, his touch comforting as we walked together. “No hiccups.”

“That’s good news. So, why’d you sound so nervous when you delivered it?” I stopped in the hall, waiting for an explanation.

His lips flattened into a hard line, and he cupped the back of his neck with his free hand. More distress. Not a good sign. “Camila just sounds off. I don’t like it. Plus, in my experience, when something seems to be going flawlessly, well . . .”

“Is that code for a storm is brewing, so we better prepare?” He nodded quietly, and I wasn’t sure how to respond other than to return his nod and carry on.

“Hey, you doing okay?” Mya was the first to greet me once we both entered the library.

“Hanging in there.” Trying, at least.

Gwen was talking to Lucy near the desk, showing her the laptop. And when my sister’s eyes went wide, I stiffened. I knew that look.

“You recognize either of them?” Gwen prompted, and I withdrew my hand from Jack’s to go see the screen for myself. “He appears to be the one in charge since he’s sitting, and the other guy is hanging back behind him.”

“I think I recognize them both,” Lucy whispered as Gwen offered me a view of the laptop, and I faltered a step. “That’s Mom’s friend. The man who got her the job in the first place. He’s the one after us and helping abduct women for Brant?”

Shock cut through me for two reasons: the man talking to Shannon was, in fact, Mom’s “friend” who’d once let me live. And the other guy was— “That’s the guy I shot and killed,” I finished my thoughts out loud. “Well, shot. Apparently not killed.”

Feeling a hand on my shoulder, I heard the concern in Jack’s voice as he softly asked, “You okay?”

“I’m not a murderer,” I whispered after a throat clear, trying to get my head on straight after that truth bomb.

“You were never a killer,” he reassured me.

“We’ll get names for them soon,” Gwen said with confidence, pulling my focus from Jack and setting it back on the screen.

I narrowed in on the man who was seated. He looked, well, uncomfortable to be there. But . . . “Can you rewind that clip? I’m pretty good at reading lips.”

“Yeah, I was trying to do that before you came in.” Gwen paused the footage, then went back a few seconds so the camera was focused on Mom’s so-called friend. A “friend” who was now having me hunted by the cartel.

I followed along with the man talking, making the same shapes with my mouth as he did, trying to process what he was saying.

“We don’t need to wait to hear from Sydney,” Mya said, eyes riveted to her iPad. “His face is on the company’s website. He’s not only the CFO for Brant Luther Enterprises Charitable Foundation, he’s also Brant’s younger—”

---