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“So are you going to clue me in on what I’m supposed to find in this safe deposit box?” She kept her gaze fixed on the road, scouring it for a police officer or anyone who might be able to help her if she managed to scream out the window at them.
When she had that phone in her hand, why didn’t she think to call the cops? She’d spent the past hour while she got ready analyzing her reasons and it came down to the fact that she trusted the WEST team to protect her better than any law enforcement. Especially after the mess the authorities made of her mother’s case and all the break-ins too.
She didn’t even know if the call had gone through. It was shocking that she’d even managed to reach an operator in this decade of internet searches.
The callmust haveconnected. And that meant she only had to stay alive long enough for Jaren to show up.
If he did receive the call and eventually reached her home, then he’d find the note she left him. It was tucked into the pocket of her plaid top she’d been wearing when he last saw her. She knew without a doubt that he’d see that shirt, pick it up and find the note telling him her whereabouts.
Dom drew her attention back to him. “I’m looking for a book.”
She blinked at him. “A book?” Her insides did more than wobble—an earthquake hit.
“Your mother was always scribbling away in some book with a leather cover.”
Panic crashed over her, leaving her feeling cold and numb while her heart shot off at a rocket speed.
“Why would you want a book?”
He leveled a stare at her. “I need to see it,” he said slowly. “Do you know anything about it?”
Trinny had spent most of her life dodging questions she didn’t want to answer. What friends was she meeting and were they suitable ones for her position in society? Who of quality would be at the party?
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She kept her tone even. “Why would my mother place it in a bank for safekeeping?”
He stared out the windshield for so long she wondered if he would answer her at all. Finally, he said, “You must be stupid. If she talks about me in the book…”
She battled her nerves, shoving them down before she gave herself away with a bouncing knee or fidgeting fingers. She had to keep that cool composure that—ironically—her mother had forced her to cultivate her entire life.
“So you’ve been after this book the whole time? You broke into all our houses and ripped them apart for abook?” What kind of incriminating words might her mother have written? Trinny didn’t get a chance to read all the entries.
But her mother did mention that Dom called himself The Broker and if the book got into the hands of the authorities, that was as good as the door slamming on his prison cell.
He didn’t respond to her question, but she already knew the answer.
All the way to the bank, she attempted to remain calm even though her nerves snapped. What would Jaren do right this minute? He’d probably elbow Dom in the nose and take the wheel.
She didn’t have the strength to overpower the man, and she wouldn’t try. After all, he proved the treachery he was capable of. He’d killed before, and one of those women was her mother.
Bile rose in her throat and lingered there until they parked in front of the bank.
The big stone edifice was a very trusted institution in the community. As they walked to the door, she wondered how many security guards were inside and how fast they could call the cops if things went south.
As soon as Dom realized that book wasn’t in the box—it was stuffed under a pillow back in Montana—he wouldnotbe happy. And she wasn’t going to stick around waiting to see what he’d do next.
Once she walked through those doors, she wasn’t walking back out with him.
When they climbed out of the Bentley, he circled the vehicle in a flash to grip her by the upper arm. His rock-hard fingers clamped on her flesh.
“Don’t even think of trying anything, Trinity. You’re going to act natural and open that box.”
“Fine,” she breezed out in as cool a tone as she could muster.
He practically dragged her up the steps to the glass doors. She swept a look inside but didn’t see any obvious security officers there.
“It’s go-time, little girl. Get me that book. And then I’ll decide if you get to live.” He brushed his knuckles over the side of her breast.
Disgust crawled over her, but she entered the bank with all the dignity of an heiress of an empire with a fortune to last several generations—if she lived to have any children, that was.
