Page 61 of Heartbreaker

“Is he in on this, too?” I ask, dumbstruck, but Lana shakes her head.

“No. He’s not. Please just… just come to our room, and I’ll explain everything. If you want to go talk to Phil or whoever after, you’ll be free to do that.” There’s a look on her face I’ve never seen before: defeat. Strangely enough, seeing it there hurts more than the potential betrayal.

“Is that a good idea?” Demi murmurs, and Lana nods without hesitation.

“It’s the best option we have not to blow our cover,” she replies.

They don’t speak again, instead having some kind of silent conversation that requires a lot of widening eyes and head tilts, and Demi sighs and nods before saying, “Okay, let’s go.”

If I had any remaining common sense, I probably would have said no. I would have told them I wasn’t going anywhere until they explained to me what was going on. But it seems common sense has fled the building, which is why, even though it might be stupid and reckless, I begin to follow the women out. As we walk, I take note of how Lana gives me space, rather than slipping her hand into mine and leaning on me as she normally does. We move in silence, the three of us walking side by side. Even through my confusion, I find myself desperate to reach over, grab Lana’s hand, and twine her fingers with mine. She looks so uneasy, so nervous, and even now, all I want to do is ease it.

“How fucked do you think we are?” Demi asks, voice low as we approach their hotel room door. “Is the mission fucked?” Lana’s face looks nervous as she looks from me to her friend before lifting a shoulder.

“Unsure. Depends on how he reacts.”

“How I react? What would I—” I start, that irritation building once more, but Lana turns to me, her face serious.

“I’m going to show you something, but I need you to promise that you won’t tell anyone about any of it.” I lift an eyebrow at her.

“I don’t think you really have any room to tell me what I can and can’t do, Lana.” I expect her sass to snap, but instead she just sighs and shakes her head.

“I’m serious, Rome. This is a big deal.”

“A bigger deal than you potentially being the person who is sabotaging the trucks?” She rolls her eyes as if that’s a ridiculous conclusion to come to, but nods all the same.

“Yes. A bigger deal than that.” It’s strange enough of a response to pique my interest, so after a moment, I nod before Demi opens the hotel door.

“Fine, I don’t see how—” I start, following Lana inside, but my words trail off when the room comes into view. A giant foldable corkboard is set up on the table, leaning against a wall, with photos pinned to it, and a pile of papers sitting right before it. There are four laptops scattered around: two connected to one another of the beds, and a third switching between camera feeds of the trucks’ dash cameras. My gut drops when I see a photo of the crash pinned to the board, as well as the drivers’ headshots in the circuit.

“What the fuck is this?”

“So,” Lana says, giving me a smile that is supposed to be sweet but looks entirely too anxious to hit the nail on the head. “I have something to tell you.”

“Are you a serial killer?”

“What?” she asks, her face scrunching up in adorable confusion. Or at least, it would be adorable if she weren’t standing in front of a murder board. Demi lets out a loud laugh and sits back on the bed, clicking a few times on a computer screen.

“Oh, this is hilarious.” Lana snaps her face to her friend.

“Demi!”

“Come on. It is.”

“Is anyone going to fill me in on what’s happening, or should I call the cops?” I ask, crossing my arms on my chest.

“Demi and I are not actually monster truck drivers.” I stare blankly, and she tips her head a bit. “Well, I kind of am, but that’s more of a situational thing. We’re private investigators. We work for a company called the Mavens and were hired to come in undercover and find out what’s been happening.” I try to understand, but can’t seem to grasp it.

“We go undercover to get intel easier. Sometimes we investigate things like whether someone is stealing trade secrets, cheating on their wife,” Demi adds. “That kind of thing.” I nod, slowly beginning to follow.

“Phil hired us to determine who was messing with Monster Smash.” I blink, then slowly, things fall into place.

Her random appearance and bringing her in instead of Liam or another reserve driver up the ranks.

The way Phil kept telling me he had it under control.

The way she is always around, the way she and Demi always seemed a bit secretive. It wasn’t just women being friends: it was coworkers investigating. I look around the room again, getting a better understanding before a new wave of anxiety rolls in. I look to her, my face probably showing the distress, as clear as day.

“So this… us… it was part of a job?” I ask, my stomach uneasy, but she quickly and decisively shakes her head.