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“I can’t say any more.”
“You can’t just—”
“I made a promise. You have no idea how much I want to be able to talk to you. To anyone. But I can’t.”
“Is this why Henry and your mom are leaving?”
“We need to get out of here. I’m going to put this stuff in the trunk of my car until I figure out what to do with all of it.”
“Bryce, we have—”
“This is over. I… I didn’t mean anything I said. You should go to Paris. I want you to go.”
“Oh, no. You’re not going there again. You need some paper? Want to write me another note? Why not send an emotionless text? That’s easier these days. Do what you want. Say what you want. I don’t believe a fucking word of it now.”
“Don’t you see? I can’t protect you.”
“Who says I need protection? Exactly what are you talking about, Bryce?”
“I made a prom—”
“That ship has sailed. I’m in this now. If you think my safety’s at stake, I need to know what’s going on.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Bryce
She was right.
She was in this now, and all because I’d brought her here. Because I’d wanted her so badly and had nowhere else to go. Because I couldn’t control my need and desire—my love—for this woman.
So I’d brought her to this place—this place where I’d had so many happy memories, memories that were now stained by my father’s sickness.
Only to find more secrets—more secrets I now had to deal with.
“I’m serious,” she said. “Tell me what’s going on.”
Was this place bugged? I hadn’t given that possibility a thought when I’d come here with Marjorie. Joe and I were so careful about everywhere we went, yet I’d been completely blinded by lust. This cabin had been my father’s, so of course the FBI would be watching it.
And if they were watching it, they would have searched it.
And if they’d searched it, they’d have found…
Something wasn’t adding up.
Ted Morse was right. This was far from over.
“Bryce, come on,” she said again.
“Joe will kill me.”
“My brother? My brother’s in this? You need to be straight with me. Now.”
How could I? How could I bring her goodness and light into this dark world that had become my existence?
Thank God my mom and Henry would be safe in Florida. Now, if I could convince Marj to keep her plans to go to Paris, she’d be safe as well. The Steel ranch without Marj would be like a Colorado day without sunlight, but her safety was more important than anything.
I cleared my throat. “When are you leaving again?”
