First Lie Wins(54)

“What guarantees do I have that I won’t end up like her? She came in here to do a job and what thanks does she get? A nose dive off a bridge.”

“I can guarantee you will meet the same fate if you fail to deliver what I send you for a second time.” His tone softens when he adds, “I know you’ll do whatever is necessary to get that fairy-tale ending you’ve always wanted. Big house and garden you and Mama planned all those years ago while she was wasting away in that single wide. You can still have all that. I can make Evie Porter a distant memory and bring Lucca Marino back from the dead if you give me what I want.”

Does he honestly think I would believe that’s a possible outcome?

“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you—Atlanta was a bust. Whatever you wanted from Amy Holder, she took with her to the grave. That safe deposit box does not hold what you think it does.”

He waits a beat, then says, “This number will be disconnected the second this call ends. You know how it works. If you don’t meet my associate in the hotel lobby at the designated time, I’ll be forced to give the Atlanta PD everything I have. Those pictures are just a preview of the main show. You can still run, but you’re not a ghost anymore.” He adds one last thing before ending the call. “And the cops won’t be the only ones hunting you down.”

And then the line goes dead. I don’t try to call back, because he doesn’t make empty threats.

I take the paper he left me to the bathroom, drop it in the sink, then pull out the lighter I keep for the candles next to the tub. It only takes a few minutes for it to turn to ash. I wash away all traces of it before the smoke sets off any alarms.

Turning the shower on as hot as I can stand, I undress and step under the spray, desperately needing to wash the last several hours away.

There are a lot of questions that need answers.

There are a lot of emotions I’ll need to sift through. The anger that the man I’ve worked for all these years has turned against me in a way I could never imagine. The disappointment that washed over me upon hearing he built an identity for me from the beginning for the sole purpose of tearing me down. The bitterness that filled me when I discovered he was planning for my demise from the very first job. It all hits harder than I thought it would. Harder than I was prepared for.

But the part that’s hitting me the hardest is the death of the woman. She came in and did her job. It’s my fault she’s dead. That James is dead. If I wasn’t playing this game with Mr. Smith, she’d still be alive.

I scrub every inch of my body. Shampoo my hair. Wash my face. Anything to feel clean.

Her death sits heavy on my shoulders, it fills my lungs, it clouds my vision.

The bathroom door squeaks open, making me jump, even though I expect Ryan to come in to check on me once he gets back from his office.

Steam has fogged the glass, so I can’t make out his details until he opens the door. A line appears in the middle of his forehead as he stares at me. His expression is one I can’t read. Just when I think he’ll walk away, he quietly undresses and joins me. He takes the washcloth from me before turning me toward the shower wall. One hand lands on my hip, holding me in place, while the other runs the cloth in long, sweeping passes along my back and shoulders.

I turn back around and bury my face in his chest while the water rains down around us. And I cry. Once I start, I can’t stop. Big, broken sobs that wreck me.

Ryan whispers in my ear. Nonsense. Sweet words. Promises.

His soft voice finding the chinks in my armor.

Ten minutes to fall apart. Ten minutes to soak in the comfort he offers regardless of whether I deserve it. I will take these ten minutes then pull myself back together.

The water starts to cool so Ryan shuts it off, then somehow grabs my towel without letting me go. I stand still as he dries me off.

“Want to crawl in the bed? Or want to eat first?” he asks as I pull on a pair of leggings and an oversize tee.

“Is Rachel still here?” I ask.

He nods as he towels off. “Yes, she feels personally responsible for you. She plans to stay within arm’s reach until we get to Atlanta.”

I take in a deep breath. Then one more. “You don’t need to go with me to Atlanta.”

Ryan shrugs. “Of course I do. But we’re not talking about that tonight. We’ll make our plans tomorrow.”

My mind is already working through different scenarios now that I know what I’m up against. I’ll go to Atlanta after I make a few other stops first.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” he asks.

I don’t like that he can read me so well. It shows how much I’ve let my guard down where he’s concerned.

“Just thinking about what they’ll ask me. And what they’ll do if I can’t answer their questions.”

Ryan pulls me in close. “I’ll be there with you the entire time. So will Rachel. We’re on your side. If there’s one thing you believe, believe that.”

I grasp his hands in mine and pull them to my mouth, kissing each knuckle. “I’m hungry. But I need a minute to gather myself.”

He smiles and squeezes my hands. “I’ll go pick up some food. Come down when you’re ready.”

Ryan leaves the room and I sink down on our bed.

I’ve had my pity party, and now it’s time to get to work.