“Everything,” Honor said. “This is the most perfect home. It’s got such a good vibe.” She took off toward the wall of windows. “I would love to come back in the daytime. What’s over there?”
Addison followed Honor, as Brit returned to the main room.
“You a beer or a wine guy?” Hawk asked.
“I’ll take a beer,” Jordan replied.
Hawk opened the fridge, handed him a beer. Jordan twisted off the bottle top, set it on the island.
“How’d you like livin’ in a cult?” Rebel asked.
“It was weird,” Jordan said. “Sanders was controlling and obsessed about the end of time. When that date got close, I suggested to Liliana that we get out.”
“Was he planning on killing his followers?” Hawk asked.
“He had a lot of weapons, but when I found his stash of sleeping pills—and we’re talking a shit-ton of them—I knew it was time to go.”
Jordan slammed back the beer while Rebel eyed the bottle like it was the Holy Grail.
Fingerprints and DNA.
“I don’t remember hearing about a cult in western Virginia where everyone was killed,” Hawk said before sipping his wine.
“Sanders moved the end date to 2070, long after he’d be dead.” Jordan chuckled. “Wasn’t the first time he’d moved the date, but this time he was covering his ass.”
“What brought you to the cult?” Hawk asked.
Jordan’s forced laugh caught Rebel’s ear. “Yeah, that’s a legit question. I had my own small business, but things didn’t work out, so I packed up and drove west. Only got as far as western Virginia. Met Liliana at a—” he paused— “you know, I can’t remember. Mighta been a convenience store. Coulda been a gas station. We got to chatting. She told me about Sanders Ranch, and it sounded like a great place to chill before I figured out my next business venture.”
“What do you do now?” Hawk asked.
“I’m a consultant,” Jordan replied.
“What do you consult on?” Rebel drained his glass of water.
“Depends on the client, depends on the day.” Jordan chortled.
The three women joined them, the small talk continuing until Brit suggested they sit down to dinner.
Before the group got comfortable at the dining room table, Rebel mentioned their beverage options.
“I’ll take another beer,” Jordan said.
Brit fetched him a beer and set it at his place setting. “Honor, can I get you sparkling water?”
“Sure,” Honor replied.
Once drinks were poured and everyone was seated, Jordan held up his beer bottle. “Thanks for welcoming us into your family.”
“I always wished I had sisters,” Honor said with a sweet smile. “And now that wish has come true.”
After everyone started eating, Rebel raised his glass to Brit, sitting at the opposite end of the table. Her loving smile instilled him with hope, but that hope fizzled fast when he shifted his attention to Jordan and Honor.
Had he invited a serial killer into his home?
Honor seemed like a naïve young woman who’d had a troubled childhood. Other than Jordan’s concern for his stepdaughter, he couldn’t get a read on the man. He was friendly, but not overly. He made small talk, but divulged nothing.
“Does Liliana book a lot of conventions?” Brit asked before biting into a burger.
