Page 6 of Trust Me

My self-congratulatory moment ends when my phone rings. My stomach plummets at the unsaved number flashing on the screen. I shift my attention to the security guard, who eyes me warily. The ringing of my phone ends.

I release a breath, but then the ringing starts again. It’s the same number.

“Someone really wants to get a hold of you,” the guard notes.

I give him the most genuine smile I can muster. “Hey, Dad,” I say as I answer the phone.

“Dad? What the fuck?” the man blackmailing me grumbles on the other end of the line. “What the hell have you been up to? It’s been two days since I’ve heard from you.”

I lean slightly away from the security guard, hoping he hasn’t heard Dean Walsh’s voice on the other end of this call.

“Yeah, I’ve missed you, too.” I glance between the guard and the street before us.

Where is that damn Uber?

“Have you made contact with Kyle Townsend yet? It’s been two weeks since I came to your office. You need to have something for me soon.”

“What?” I ask. “No, I haven’t been ignoring you. Work has just been a killer the last few weeks.” I do my best to inject my voice with a lightness I don’t feel.

“You know what else is a killer?” Dean demands. “Going to jail. That’s exactly where the fuck you’re going to end up if you keep fucking with me. I’ve given you six months to get hired at Townsend Industries and get me evidence of that family’s illegal activities.”

“Right. That’s exactly what I’m going to do,” I tell him. “How about we do one of those family Sunday dinners you love so much? When things slow down at work.”

“Don’t you dare hang up on me,” Dean threatens.

I pause, my thumb hovering over the end call button.

God, where the fuck is my Uber?

“Dad, I’m sorry you’re not feeling well, but right now’s not a good time. I’m kind of in the middle of getting kicked out of a nightclub.” I peer up at the burly guard whose hard glare remains trained on me.

“What the fuck are you doing at a nightclub?”

I fake laugh. “Yeah, it’s kind of a long story.”

“Is Kyle there? Why the hell would you go to a club to meet him?”

“Huh? Yeah, no. It’s nothing serious. I’ll tell you all about it when I see you next week.”

“You’ll be seeing me sooner than that,” Dean says. “Don’t mess with me, Riley. I hold your freedom in my hands.

My stomach twists in knots.

“Your niece is depending on you, isn’t she? How would she fare with you in jail?”

That’s when the phony smile on my face falls away. I tighten my hold on the phone and wish it was Dean Walsh’s neck.

“I’ll be in touch soon.” He disconnects the call.

I look up at the security guard. “Parents, right?” I hold up my phone. “Can’t live with ’em, can’t get rid of ’em.” I shrug. “Or something like that.” I try to joke, but the guard snorts and then nods toward the street.

“Uber’s here.”

I wish I could say I’m relieved, but Dean Walsh’s threat continues to pile drive its way through my mind.

* * *

During the twenty-minutedrive from The Black Opal to my condo, I do my best to forget Dean’s threats, and focus on my plan. He wants me to get close to Kyle Townsend and unearth the Townsend family’s secrets. Dean believes the Townsends have threatened, coerced, and even killed to get their way.

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