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At this point, Blake and Harper are standing in front of me with expectant gazes. “It’s a birth certificate number from Chicago, Illinois,” I say and text Blake the way that number breaks down. “I just sent you the exact certificate number.”
“And you know this how?” he asks.
“How I know is simply how my brain works,” I say. “Harper said something completely unrelated, and I went there. There is no other way to explain to you how I came to that conclusion, but I did. That’s a birth certificate from Chicago, Illinois.”
Blake stares at me as if I’ve grown three heads, but Harper—Harper just accepts what I’ve said and moves on. “Who was born in Chicago?” she asks. “Not you, right? And I’ve heard Isaac talk about being born in Denver.”
“I don’t know the answer to that question,” I say, draping my arm around her shoulder. “Now Blake gets to do his magic and find out.”
She twists in my arms to look at me. “Is there another sibling?” she asks again. “Have you ever gotten the idea that’s possible?”
“Never,” I say, “but they tried to bury me. My mother didn’t let that happen. They could easily have succeeded with someone else.”
“What if—what if that sibling is the one coming after you or both of you?” she continues. “Or he bribed Isaac? I could keep going. There are so many possibilities.”
“All of which I’ll be discussing with Isaac,” I assure her. “But there are other possibilities. Mob connections. The secrets Gigi might know but didn’t feel safe sharing don’t have to be as direct as another sibling.”
“You really believe this is Gigi?” Blake says. “She’s sending the messages?”
“She told Harper that I inherited my mind from her. She very specifically told her that.”
“And maybe she wanted me to repeat it?” Harper asks.
“Yes,” I say. “That’s what was throwing me off with the message until now. I was looking at it with normal logic. But it wasn’t written by someone who thinks like everyone else. It was written by someone who thinks like me.”
Harper reaches for her purse and grabs her phone. “And if you got your genius from her, that means her. I have to reach Gigi.”
“Her phone is dead,” Blake says. “And it’s not pinging at all.”
“Damn it,” Harper grumbles, and I slide my arm around her again. “Let’s get to the hospital and let Blake work.”
“Yes,” Blake says. “Let me work. I’m damn eager to dig into this and figure out what the fuck this is we’re dealing with.”
“I’ll grab my bag,” Harper says, darting away.
A few minutes later, Harper and I are standing beside the SUV we’re going to travel in with Savage and Blake. “I can get the name that’s attached to that birth certificate quickly,” Blake says, “if it’s not sealed like Isaac’s. Assuming I do, I’ll text you the name in case it helps you with Isaac.” He eyes Savage. “Don’t let him kill Isaac.”
Savage glances at me. “I’ll do it for you. Just say the word. I can’t stand that little bitch.”
I don’t think he’s completely joking. I know he’s a surgeon and a mercenary which doesn’t compute in any equation in my mind. A man who can kill and heal is a strange creature, but then so am I. Whatever the case, I don’t look at him. I don’t want to encourage him. If anyone gets to kill Isaac before this is over, it’s me. And I don’t think that’s what Blake or Harper wants to hear. “Hurry up with that name,” I say, opening the back door for Harper.
She moves in front of me, but when she would climb inside, she turns to face me, her hand planting on my chest, under my coat. Her hand is always on my chest and I swear every time my icy heart warms. I want to end this and figure out life with this woman minus the damn Kingston family.
“Do you think Gigi’s dead?” she asks, trepidation in her voice, and I know now it’s not about her love for Gigi. It’s about that sweet, caring part of her, that even the Kingston hate hasn’t destroyed, and I’m not going to give it a chance to finish the job.
“The odds are not in her favor.” I brush her hair from her face. “Get in, baby. If I can get answers out of Isaac, I need to do it and get this over with.”
She doesn’t even sway that direction, let alone move. “How bad is this going to get between you two?”
“Get in,” I order. “Assassin, remember?”
Her eyes go wide and she climbs inside. I quickly follow and eye Savage. “Give us five, man.”
Savage glances back at us and says, “It’s a lovely day in the neighborhood,” and he gets out.
I think a lot of people think he says things that make no sense but he makes sense to me. Every time, and with every bad joke, there’s a meaning. And there’s a lot of fucking anger beneath his surface, which I know because I have it, too.
“I’ll push his buttons,” I say, answering Harper’s question. “He’ll lose his shit. If I estimate correctly, there will be a detective or two around to witness it all. I don’t need to kill Isaac as Blake suggested to get revenge. Isaac is really damn good at burying himself alive.”
