He discovered the bank account Isaac had been depositing funds into. He confronted Kristin about it and demanded an explanation on how she could blow over five million dollars on shoes, dresses, and handbags.
She killed him that afternoon.
It wasn’t hard. Even after being told there was no hope, Dane constantly strived to regain the use of his legs, but it was his inability to stand that made it easy for Kristin to murder him. She didn’t even need to hoist him from the ground. All she did was push him out of his chair. His frail legs did the rest.
When Brandon went digging for evidence with the hope it would show Isabelle Isaac wasn’t who she thought he was, he didn’t just unlock secrets Isaac wasn’t aware of; he opened a treasure trove of horrible memories, the main one being Dane’s video journals. He was in the process of uploading a new entry when Kristin caught him unaware. I struggled to watch his fight for life, so I can imagine how hard it was for Isla.
The only good thing that came from Dane’s video evidence was proof he was never rogue. There were many times when Kristin whispered in his ear, encouraging him to take the payments men in our industry are regularly offered, but not once did he. He upheld his dignity even when his wife told him she hated him for it. Not even Theresa’s guarantee of unlimited work swayed his moral pendulum.
I am so fucking proud to call him my friend.
I’m drawn from my thoughts when Isaac asks, “Are you on the job?”
I shake my head.
“Then why no alcohol?”
“It’s never interested me,” I answer with a shrug. “Haven’t touched a drop since my college days. I prefer my thoughts uncorrupted.”
Isaac’s lips lift against his frosty glass. It’s not his usual pompous, egotistical grin. It’s more arrogant than that.
“What?”
His smirk grows, happy I took his bait hook, line, and sinker.
“Nothing.”
Unwilling to back down without a fight, I ask, “Was it the uncorrupted part of my statement? I’m not rogue. I don’t care how much money is thrown at me. I’ll never be on the Petretti payroll.”
“It has nothing to do with that.” Isaac’s flat tone strengthens the honesty of his statement.
I scoot to the edge of my chair. “Then what is it?”
“Nothing major. . . It was just your statement about not touching alcohol since your college days.” The laugh his sentence is delivered with pisses me off more than it entertains me.
I scrub at the twelve months of growth on my chin, my beard the thickest it’s ever been. “What’s funny about that? It’s true.”
Isaac sprays the table with malt-colored liquid when his whiskey leaves his mouth along with a chuckle.
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
I lift my glass of coke to my nose and inhale a large whiff to make sure he didn’t slip something into my drink when I wasn’t looking. Regan’s brilliant plan of sharing our family vacation to Disney World with Isaac and Isabelle to settle the dust between us is five seconds from flying out the window when Isaac laughs even louder.
That punch-up I craved last year is about to come true. Except, I’m not on the clock this week, meaning I can hit first. The only reason I haven’t is because I don’t want to ruin the girls’ vacation. I only see them four times a year when Dane’s parents relinquish them from their “overly gooey parenting,” as Regan likes to call it, so I don’t want to waste a second. Especially on a man as undeserving as Isaac.
After smiling at Regan to assure her the strain on my face isn’t what she’s reading, I slump deeper into my chair. “If I find out you spiked my drink, I’ll suffocate you in your sleep.”
Isaac laughs, more amused by my threat than worried.Stupid bastard.
My eyes rocket to his when he murmurs under his breath, “It’s not me you should be worried about.” With a cocky wink, his eyes drift to Regan. She’s still watching our exchange behind lowered lashes, like she’s got something to hide.
I work my jaw side to side. “Can you watch the girls for ten minutes?”
Isaac arches his brow. “I can give you some pointers if you only need ten minutes.”
The tick in my jaw slackens.I walked straight into that one.“Rest assured, I don’t need more than ten minutes. . .” My eyes stray to his. They hold the same egotistical edge they always carry. “. . . not to spank the sass out of my girl.”
Isaac’s smirk turns into a genuine smile. “Take all the time you need.”
