Page 128 of Heresy

The governor certainly wasn’t willing to give me any information. Not about my dad, at least. Maybe that’s a sign that Shane and the rest of them aren’t lying.

We reach the top of the stairs and my muscles relax when I see Ames in her usual cage, dancing.

She looks like she doesn’t have a care in the world, her blue hair cascading down her back and those fake angel wings bouncing with every step she takes.

She’s dressed in a decorative corset top and a pair of booty shorts that appear to be three sizes too small. But that’s how Granger likes it.

Speaking of Granger…

I lean into Shane so I don’t have to yell to be heard over the music. His arm slips around my waist, and another damn shiver rolls through me.

“I should go talk to her alone. Granger will let me through. But if you two come with me, he’ll be a complete dick and let none of us near her.”

Glancing at me with suspicion in his turbulent eyes, Shane finally nods his head and lets me go.

He and Damon head to the bar to keep an eye on me while I run over to the stairs that lead to Ames’s cage.

Ames sees me before Granger, her dance abandoned as she waves a hand and runs downstairs. Granger finally turns to see me, his typical sneer in place, but he allows Ames to take a ten-minute break to speak to me.

“Holy shit, Brin. Are you okay? What happened today? I’ve been worried.”

Worried?

Just worried?

If the tables were turned, I’d be losing my mind.

“Did you call the police?” I ask her. “Report the fact that I was stolen?”

Nodding her head, she brushes a strand of hair out from her face.

“Of course, but I didn’t have much to tell them. They put out a missing person’s report for you and did a crash investigation. There was no damage to the car or anything. And I never saw any of the guys. Should I call them now and have them come here? Who took you? How’d you get away? Are you hurt or anything?”

Patting her hands over my shoulders and arms, she’s checking for injuries.

“I’m fine, Ames. Nobody hurt me.”

Her recount of the accident brings memories to mind. And it’s only a bigger problem when I allow myself to consider what happened.

For one, they weren’t lying.

Ames was let go, and she’s perfectly fine.

Just like they said.

But then I remember what happened at the scene.

My panic attack.

The way Shane had been so delicate when he lifted me out of my seat and worried enough to calm me down.

Psychopaths don’t let witnesses go.

They don’t tell you to breathe with them either.

At first, I assumed it was because he needed me alive to give him information. But seeing Ames is fine, I reconsider.

Glancing back at the two of them by the bar, I’m starting to doubt my earlier judgment about them.

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