Page 28 of Ruthless Deliverance

All I want to do is answer all of his stupid questions with a big fuck you, but his hand is still clasped over my mouth. I question how the hell I’m supposed to answer when I realize, he’s not really asking me anything. He knows all these answers. He could’ve done something else with this information. I don’t know what test I failed, but I don’t think it’s over. But I’m fucking done with this.

As soon as I stiffen, preparing to twist and swing back, his arms release me then his hand quickly shoves me away. I stumble from the unanticipated release before quickly regaining my balance. Ready for a fight. The stupid motherfucker has blown the whole operation, the least I can do is get in one good punch or kick. Or both. Hopefully.

His face drops, looking down at the clown mask still in his grip. “Thanks for the laugh. I really needed it today.” He lifts his hand, flinging the mask at me. When it hits my chest, I bat it away and it falls to the floor. Creed turns and exits through the doorway, leaving me there trying to figure out what the hell just happened and why I didn’t take the chance to punch him when I had it.

Stepping out the door, I glance around the corridor to find it empty. He just left. After revealing what he knows, he just left me here to wonder and not know what to do. And even more concerning, what he’s going to do with the leverage he holds.

26

DANI

The house alarm beeps, signaling a door has opened. It’s about damn time. When I arrived back last night, Philip was nowhere to be found. Many hours where all I could do was lie in bed and go over the events of the night—mainly Creed with his stupid antics to let me know my cover has been blown. But the more I thought about it, the more I wonder if he plans to out me. I’d assumed so at first, but I have a feeling he’s playing a long game, somehow, and exposing me would be counter to his plans. I still definitely need to tell Philip. My dad is the only thing holding me back. Either way, I’m utterly screwed.

Hurrying into the kitchen, I find Philip on his phone, signaling for me to keep quiet while he wraps up what sounds like an intense phone call. Is it about the case? It definitely sounds that way as he shouts instructions to someone on the other line. Does he know? There’s no way he could. He wouldn’t still be running the case if he knew my secret identity was no longer a secret to someone who could very well corrupt the case and any chance we have of solving it. It’s Creed’s family’s legacy. Why wouldn’t he protect it?

“Bullshit. Run it again.” Philip ends the call, tossing his phone on the countertop.

Great. He’s already grumpy, and I might be part of what has him in a mood. “Everything okay?”

“Hunky-dory.” Philip moves around the kitchen, grabbing the carafe from the coffee maker before filling it with water. “Whatcha got? Any developments at the game last night?”

Development? No. Implosion? Yes. But the question confirms what I wanted to know. Philip isn’t clued in on Creed’s discovery. There’s no way. Because one thing Philip doesn’t do is beat around the bush. “I thought I had a lead, but nothing tangible yet.”

“Just keep at it.” Philips shovels a few heaping scoops of grounds into the coffee filter, clicks the on button, and heads out of the room. “I’m gonna hit the shower, then I need to take off again. Keep yourself away from trouble. I should be back later tonight.”

There is some bossiness to his instruction but overall, it’s way too nice for Philip. More confirmation he doesn’t know and more reason for me to find out Creed’s next move so I can plan accordingly. Hopefully, that doesn’t involve Philip becoming a full-blown asshole again when I confess that the entire operation is a failure. And it’s all my fault.

* * *

The mansion—no, more like fortress—comes into view as I steer into the driveway and pull up to the guard shack. A middle-aged man wearing a security uniform walks to my car as I push the window-down button.

“Name?” is all he says, looking at me, then glancing into my vehicle, making it obvious he is checking the interior. For passengers, I’m guessing.

“Dani. I’m here to see Creed. He’s—”

“ID,” Mr. Warm and Fuzzy interrupts, his hand outstretched as he glances down to the tablet in his other.

Reaching into my wallet, I’m more nervous when I glance at the fake ID I’m handing him. But even though Creed knows, I’m not going to exactly advertise my actual name until I know who and when he plans on announcing it to the world.

The guard looks over my driver’s license, looks to the tablet, then hands me my ID back. “You’re clear. Straight to the parking area next to the garage and don’t veer off the path.”

Yeah. Too late. “Got it.”

Rolling my window up, I watch as the iron gate opens, and I proceed through and park in my assigned place. Why do I feel like I’m walking up to meet my doom voluntarily? Maybe because I am. I had no excuse to give Luna when I asked for Creed’s number. And the only message I sent him was that we needed to talk. Of course his reply was meet him at his house and the address. I know I’m supposed to avoid him, but this needs to be discussed. In person. And if stepping on his turf is the only way he’ll speak to me, then so be it. I doubt he’ll do anything too stupid, not that it can get much worse than last night, but if he had wanted to hurt me, he could’ve. Or at least tried while I put up my best effort to deter him. Something tells me not much will.

As I’m stepping up to the front door, it swings open to reveal a man in another security uniform. “Follow me, Miss Graham.”

He turns and walks towards the staircase I see Creed descending. He looks almost normal, relaxed compared to how I’ve seen him around school.

The guard tells him something lowly before walking away. Then we stand in awkward silence. I take back the normal part. There’s nothing normal about the way he sizes me up. It makes me feel more exposed than I’ve ever felt before. Maybe because he knows the one thing I thought would be kept a secret. “Can we talk about last night?”

“We will.” He glances at his watch then back to me. “First, come with me.”

Here we go. I follow behind him as he weaves down several hallways and into a kitchen where a housekeeper and chef work at the stove. Moving across the kitchen, I spot two people sitting at a breakfast table to the side. There’re engaged in pleasant conversation until they notice our arrival. The man and woman immediately turn their attention to where we stand beside them.

“Mom, Dad, this is Dani,” Creed says casually, like we’re friends and it’s totally normal to introduce me to his folks. Maybe this is another mind game because he has me thrown off for a few seconds as I stare at a man who looks a bit surprised by the introduction. His mom appears surprised also, but a warm smile crosses her face. “Dani, it’s so nice to meet you. I’m Rosemary.”

She extends her hand and I shake it. Creed’s dad slowly stands, extending his, “JR.” He glances to Creed. “We weren’t expecting company.”