Page 103 of One Secret

'Cyrus... you can't,' she cries.

'Can't what?' I shoot over my shoulder, as I stock up with several knives and extra clips for my Glock. 'Do my job?'

'No. Walk into something that's so clearly a trap. He wants to take you out to fucking sea. You know... that popular dumping ground for murdered bodies? If this is all a setup, if he knows that you're not really here for a job, he'll—'

'And how would he know that, sweetheart?' I accuse, darkly.

Darcy's face flushes with pink fury.

'I told you. I'm not your enemy. And, even if I was, do you really think I'd be warning you not to go?'

'You say that like you've never heard of poker.'

'I'm not bluffing you, Cyrus!'

'No, you've just been flat-out lying to me!'

'Oh my God, you are the most infuriating man!' Darcy's anger is strong enough to rock the chair on its legs. 'Look, untie me and we can talk about this.'

'No dice, sweetheart.' I shake my head. Now kitted out, I retrieve a balled-up pair of socks from the depths of the bag.

'You can't be serious?' Darcy growls, eyeing the socks like they're a pinless grenade. Just as she suspects, I stuff them between her teeth as a gag.

'I want to trust you,' I repeat with sincerity. 'But until I can convince myself of the truth in all this, I need to keep you secure.'

Her gaze is a fiery contradiction; her stern brow lowered in wrath but her eyes wide with concern. Her eyes are so sincere, so raw, that I have to resecure the locks on that mental door.

Don't cave. Don't give in.

Darcy struggles against the sheet ties and cries a yell of protest around the mass of cotton in her mouth but it's barely a dull moan. Reassured that she won't draw attention to her capture, free herself, or escape whilst I'm gone, I keep both key cards to the room in my pocket and leave before doubts can stall my steps.

In the hallway, I have to take a moment. Clear my head. And make a call.

'Yeah?' Jaime is quick to answer and sounds out of breath. Not to mention thoroughly annoyed at the interruption.

"I'm pregnant..."

'I'm headed to meet him now,' I say into the phone, blotting out Darcy's voice in my head. 'I'll let you know what I find out.'

'Nothing at the dinner?' Jaime checks. I hear a low moan coming from his end of the line. It's hard to tell if he's entertaining a woman or a suspect. Knowing Jaime, it could equally be either.

'Theories, nothing more,' I report, heading for the elevators.

"I'm nearly eight weeks along."

'So, you're calling me because...?' Jaime sounds impatient. I try to clear my head.

Get it together, asshole.

'Caruso wants a private meet. On his boat.'

The line goes quiet for a second. Then the background noises start to fade, like Jaime's stepping away from the action. His tone is more focused and less annoyed.

'What do you need?' he asks.

'Nothing. But if I don't check in with my tech guy in two hours, she's going to call you.'

With instructions to release the woman that I've left tied up in my room and to investigate one Vincent Omar.

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