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Harper’s voice brought her head up. She stared at him decked out in black with FBI across his chest and some things began to make sense.
The man at his apartment who’d also been in Miami, for example.
He reached for her. She scooted back. Sand and other debris stuck to her blood-covered skin.
Harper’s face creased. “Robin? It’s okay now.”
Except it wasn’t.
She planted her hands on the ground and pushed to her feet. Her knees weren’t quite ready, and she swayed.
“Are you a cop?” she demanded. “Is it true?”
“What?” His eyes went wide. He held out a hand to her. “No. No, I’m not a cop.”
Tucker rose to his feet, standing just behind Harper now.
She jabbed her finger at Harper’s chest. “Then why does that say FBI and why is he calling you Wright?”
“I can explain.”
Her anger rose. All this time and she hadn’t seen it. There’d been something off, but she’d thought it was her. Like an idiot. It had never once entered her head that the problem wasn’t her.
“Is your last name Gonzalez?” she asked.
Harper lowered his hands. “No.”
“Is it Wright?”
“Yes.”
“Robin?” Tucker shifted. “It’s not what you think.”
“Is it?” She laughed bitterly. “Because it looks like the FBI sent him to fuck me and screw me over. That’s what this looks like. I hope it was worth it.”
She was shouting at the end.
Was all of this worth it? Were Uncle Daar’s crimes so bad to set all of this in motion?
The airport had to be them, and so was the rest.
The paramedics lifted Uncle Daar’s gurney up off the ground.
“I’m going with him,” she said loudly.
“Robin, wait,” Harper said.
She whirled to face him. “Don’t you ever speak to me again. The next time I talk to any of you, I want a lawyer.”
Uncle Daar was not a good person. She knew that now better than ever before. But at least he’d never lied to her face or tried to make her think better of him. Unlike Harper. Because of him, she might lose everyone she’d ever loved.
Friday. New York City, NY.
Everything in Harper felt stretched too tight. From his skin where the blood had dried to his attention span and emotions. He was close to snapping. And there was nothing for him to do about it except try to talk to Robin.
Her grief-stricken face was etched into his mind. He’d known she would find out the truth, eventually. There was no barring that.
The steering wheel vibrated in his hands as he turned the wheel. Someone should get this vehicle checked out.
