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Lorenzo lifts Hughes up by the scruff of his neck. “How attached are you to your fingers?”
Hughes sputters and kicks his legs out, his whimpers falling on deaf ears. When I step out into the hallway, Tristan hurries out after me. All the cluttered desks are empty, and the large glass windows off a view of clear night skies and a half-shaped moon.
“Rough him up a little,” I say tersely. “But make sure there’s no footage of anything, and make sure he knows that we’ll be back to collect.”
Tristan nods. “Anything else?”
“Make it hurt,” I add, with a quick look in Tristan’s direction. “I might have to behave, but you don’t.”
Tristan and I exchange grim looks.
Ernesto falls into step beside me we make a beeline for the elevator. Once the doors ping shut, I take my phone out of my pocket and type a quick message. Then the doors slide open, and Ernesto and I step out a side door, past a spacious lobby with hardwood floors and a glittering chandelier.
In the car, I lean back against the leather seats and set the gun down next to me.
Ernesto grips the steering wheel with both hands and keeps sneaking glances at me in the rearview mirror. I throw my jacket next to me, unfasten a few buttons on my shirt, and lean forward. After pouring myself a drink, I raise it in the air and hold Ernesto’s gaze.
He relaxes and gives me the barest hint of a smile. “It’s about damn time, Carter.”
Chapter Twenty
Isabella
Sam bursts into the room, her eyes wild and unfocused. “What are you doing?”
“Reading,” I reply, without looking up at her. “What does it look like I’m doing?”
Sam throws the covers off and yanks on my arm. “You need to take a shower because Anita and I have a surprise for you, and no, I’m not going to tell you what it is.”
Reluctantly, I lower the book and do a double take when I realize Sam has thrown my closet door open and is rifling through it. She pulls out a long-sleeved, knee-length blue dress and drapes it over the back of the chair. Then she crosses over to me and pulls on my other arm. Startled, I let her pull me out of bed and push me into the bathroom.
She flicks the lights on, and I wince as lights dance in my field of vision. “I’m going to be waiting out here if you need me.”
I hand Sam the book and pull my hoodie up over my head. “You’re not even going to give me a hint?”
Sam turns her back on me and folds her arms over her chest. “Not a chance.”
With a sigh, I peel off the rest of my clothes and leave them in a heap on the floor. While I wait for the water to heat up, I examine myself in the bathroom above the sink, grimacing at the swell of my breasts and my slightly bulging stomach. In the past few weeks, there have been a lot of changes, most notable of which has been my increased appetite.
Anita has even taken to making extra food and leaving it in the small fridge in my room.
Tristan, on the other hand, spends dinner sitting as far away from me as possible and clutching his plate protectively. Although the four of us have settled into a comfortable routine, I can’t help but wonder how long it’s going to last. Every night for the past five weeks, Tristan has been returning home smelling like sweat and blood.
And each morning, he avoids my gaze at the breakfast table. A part of me is tempted to press Sam for information, but I know it isn’t fair. She’s my friend, and I can’t expect her to exploit her relationship with Tristan just to appease me.
And I’m too afraid of what I might find out.
For now, I’ve settled into a comfortable numbness where I can almost convince myself that Carter is away on a business trip and will be home any minute. Even the fact that I’ve sent hundreds of unanswered messages and voicemails doesn’t bother me as much as it used to. When I pull back the curtain and step into the shower, I study Sam’s outline from behind the curtain.
Moments later, she ventures further into the bathroom, and I see her grip the sink.
With a grimace, I finish shaving my legs and then pick up the bottle of shampoo. I’ve lathered it up, and I’m running my fingers through my hair when Sam’s loud sigh fills the bathroom. I poke my head out from behind the curtain and see her bring her hip to rest against the sink. She gives me a distracted half-smile before I pull my head back in.
“Is everything okay?”
Sam clears her throat. “Tristan wants me to move in with him.”
I turn my back on the shower head and work my fingers through my scalp. “I thought you two already lived together.”
