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“No, she’s dating a colonel,” my father says calmly. “Colonel Cole Logan, correct?”
What the hell?
I’m shocked, dumbstruck, just staring at him. “Dad, how do you know that information?” I am completely blown away by his calm comments and knowledge of my situation.
“I’m a powerful man who knows a lot of things, Savannah. I know, for instance, that your boyfriend isn’t who he says he is.” My father’s eyes shift over to Derek’s. “Just like you, Captain Rent, isn’t that right?”
“I’m not following,” Derek says, dropping his napkin on the table.
“Oh, well, allow me to explain, then. Luka.” Luka stands and hands my father a file. He flips it open and hands me a photo.
My hands shake as I look at the photo. I then look up at my father and to Luka in disbelief as I try to process what I am seeing. Cole is shaking hands with my Devil, Jose Jorge. My mouth goes dry as I look over to Derek, who is shaking his head.
“Then there’s this.” My father slides another picture over the top of the one I’m holding. It’s Derek in a coffee shop, ordering at the counter. “Note who’s waiting for him in line off to his right,” he says to me.
“Oh…” I whisper in shock. There is my captor, Rodrigo Heredia, the bastard, the man who ordered—and enjoyed watching—Jose beat the shit out of me to the point where I wanted to die.
“Interesting suit you have on in that picture, Derek,” my father adds, taking a sip of his scotch. “Looks familiar, don’t you think, Savannah?”
Holy shit, this picture is from today? My hand flies to my stomach as Derek leans into me.
“Savannah, he’s setting us up.”
“Pictures don’t lie, Derek,” my father hisses like a cat about to attack.
I shake my head, feeling faint as my blood doesn’t seem to be reaching my brain. “Derek, please explain. How can this be? Tell me you didn’t know he was there.” I feel my eyes water as I hold up Cole’s picture. “Explain this, please. This isn’t making sense. How could he?”
Derek’s eyes are full of panic. “No, Savannah. You know Cole, he would never hurt you, he loves—”
Pop! Pop!
Crimson liquid sprays across my body. My ears are ringing, and everything seems to move in slow motion. I turn my eyes to my father, who is holding a gun, then to Lynn and Luka, who are staring at the table. My gaze travels over to Derek, who is slumped in his chair, head flopped backward with a huge, gaping hole in the center of his forehead. Blood drains over his open eyes, down his nose, along his neck, and into his shirt.
The entire room is silent except for the ringing in my head. I try to focus on what is happening. My brain fights to process this moment.
“Savannah!” my father orders. “Look at me.”
I unglue my eyes from Derek and somehow do as I’m told.
“Are you being tracked?”
I can feel panic start in my feet and travel through me like the bullet that is now nuzzled into Derek’s skull.
“Are. You. Being. Tracked?” I can hear him, but I’m not registering his words.
Derek’s blood is in my steak.
Derek’s brain is everywhere.
Derek was just speaking to me, and now he’s not.
Derek is dead.
My father shot Derek.
My father just shot Derek Rent.
My father pointed a gun and shot my friend.
