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“To you?”
“To Isaac. He told him he’d give it all to me, a good dozen times that I remember. My point is there are motives everywhere you look. Don’t volunteer information and answer with as little as possible. And remember, I offered you a job and a paycheck to rival and exceed what you have now. I offered to make sure you didn’t need that trust fund.”
Realization hits me. “My mother. If Isaac knows about your father, she must, too.”
“Yes. You need to call her.” He releases me and faces forward. “Savage. We need—”
“To make sure Harper’s mother stays locked down?” He glances over his shoulder. “We’ve already talked to Adam about that.”
“She’s not going to agree,” I say. “I know her. She’s not going to listen.”
“We have a plan,” Savage assures us. “Blake’s brother, Royce, is calling her as an FBI consultant, which he is, and telling her that she’s on lockdown until we catch the person who poisoned her husband. Adam will show up as one of Royce’s employees, which he is, to protect her.”
Eric’s attention shifts to me. “What do you think? Will it work?”
I nod. “I think it might.” I grab my new mini-Chanel purse the personal shopper picked out, which I don’t even remember bringing with me but clearly, at some point, I did. I even stuck my phone in it. I grab it and stare at the missed calls. “She called,” I say. “I didn’t hear it ring.” I punch the voicemail and play it on speaker:Your father. I need to talk to you about your father.I grind my teeth at her calling him my father again and Eric’s hands close down on my leg, understanding in the touch, as my mother adds:Why is he there with you? He’s in the hospital. He’s—call me. The FBI won’t let me leave. Call me now! Oh God. They’re calling again. I have to go. Just—call me. This is Eric’s fault. Somehow it’s his fault and you’re sleeping with him!
The line goes dead and Savage whistles. “That was some heavy shit.” Smith elbows him and Savage growls. “Keep your fucking hands to yourself.”
“They’re calling again?” I ask, eyeing Eric. “Who are they?” I punch in the call back button for my mother.
“Probably Royce,” Savage replies.
“He’s right,” Eric says. “It’s likely Royce.”
“Royce is not a they,” I say. “I guess she means the FBI.” The line rings and rings and goes to voicemail. “She’s not answering,” I say, feeling panicked now. “Why is she not answering?” I redial.
“I’m calling Adam,” Smith says. “He’s got eyes on her.”
“Don’t panic,” Savage adds. “She’s safe. We have her.”
I get voicemail again and look at Eric. “I’m freaking out here.”
“Easy, princess,” he says. “She’s safe. I’m sure she’s safe.”
“Please be right.” I look toward the front of the truck. “Smith?! Anything?”
“No answer,” he says. “Adam must be talking to her. I’ll call one of the other men on the ground there.”
“And just to complicate this intense moment,” Savage interjects, “we’re not only at the hospital, we have uniforms at the side door that already spotted us. And for the record, yes, our fuckhead team should have warned us.”
“You’re not making me feel good about my mother and your team,” I say, punching in her number again.
“I have Adam on text,” Smith announces, looking back at us. “He’s standing with your mother now. She’s fighting with him, but he’s got her under control.”
I breathe out and sink back into the leather seat. “Oh thank God.”
“We’re about to be in the hot seat with the cops,” Savage warns. “Stay where you’re at. We’ll come around and get you.”
“Don’t volunteer information,” Eric instructs.
“Yes. Okay.” He studies me a moment as if weighing my reply and state of mind which is shit right now, and he knows it. But he also seems to accept that fact as inevitable and reaches for the door. I inhale, preparing myself for whatever hell follows, wishing this was just over, but Eric takes my hand and it reminds me I’m not alone anymore. I’m not alone for the first time in a very long time. Eric has somehow become so much to me in such a short period of time. Then again, we’ve been there, a presence in each other’s lives, for six years.
Eric helps me out of the SUV, and into the cold night air, I don’t want to escape nearly as much as I do this night. Savage takes his position in front of us and Smith behind, which reminds me again that there’s an assassin hunting at least one of us, and that would be me.
We reach the side entrance of the hospital, some sort of service entrance, and Savage enters the building first. Eric and I join him only to have two police officers step in front of us, crowding Savage and forcing him to step aside.
One of the officers is mid-fifties with what looks like an oddly fitted toupee on his head and crinkles at his eyes. The other younger, thirties maybe, with curly brown hair.
