Page 41 of Thaddeus

What the hell? Why was he being so difficult? The stupid file was about my life, I deserved to read it and the more he protested, the more I wanted it.

“And how would you know?”

“Because neither Garrett nor Tex make mistakes. The intel in the dossier is a hundred percent accurate.”

I didn’t know who Garrett or Tex were and at this point I greatly disliked both men for digging through my life.

“Great, then I’ll treat it as a memoir of sorts. You know, a little light reading before bed.”

Thad’s features hardened and I was thinking it was a shame he still looked so handsome with his lips drawn into a frown and eyes squinty.

“I’ll give it to you when I’m done,” he gave in.

He said ‘done’, which meant he hadn’t finished it. It was stupid, me wondering how far he’d gotten, but I couldn’t stop myself from asking. “How far have you gotten?”

“The Texas billionaire,” he answered.

Peter Stokes, the Texan oil billionaire. He was the first man I’d seduced for information. He was alive and well, probably still visiting his favorite massage parlors for a rub-and-tug. I’d used him as a stepping stone. I’d also had a chance to talk to some of the women who he’d frequently called on, all of them had been there of their own free will. But I did get a lead from one of the women who worked at the salon.

Allen Masters, he’d be next on the list. He wasn’t alive and breathing. Mainly because he’d bought and kept a woman, chained to a bed in his basement. Though, in my defense I hadn’t meant to end his life. He’d caught me freeing the woman, and his end came as I was protecting myself.

“Emerson?” Thad prompted. “Where’d you go?”

“What do you mean?”

“You totally spaced out.”

I had? Seriously, I needed to get myself together. I couldn’t be letting my guard down, I had to stay sharp and make a plan.

“Thought you said you guys were ready for me.”

“What were you thinking about?”

“About how much I enjoyed the plane ride to Guyana,” I lied.

“Do you ever tell the truth anymore? Do you even remember how to?”

Direct. Hit.

And if I thought about his question for too long, guilt would start to eat away my insides. Because the answer was—no. I rarely spoke the truth. I’m sure in time, I’d remember how to be an honest and good person, but that time wasn’t now. Not today. Not with Thad. Not until I found Autumn.

“I don’t know. I suppose it would depend on your perception of the word. Was I thinking about the plane ride? I was. Just not right then. So I didn’t lie, I just replaced one truth for another.”

“And the men you’ve been with? Did you lie to them, or were you replacing one truth for another?”

“I lied to them. None of them deserved any variation of the truth.”

“Right,” he muttered.

I didn’t know if he believed me or not. After all, I was admittedly a liar. And in the grand scheme of my life, it just didn’t matter what Thad believed or didn’t. It was almost better he thought the worst of me. It would make everything easier in the end.

* * *

I now understood what the long table with no chairs was good for. There were maps spread out, pictures scattered about, and file folders staked. So much so I could barely see the surface of the tabletop.

“You said there were four or five guards in the house,” Declan repeated.

“Yes.”