“My sister met her that night. Said she seemed like a good girl, but not exactly the type for the club.”
I run a hand through my sweat-slicked hair, scanning the street one last time, my irritation growing. Leave it to my brothers to drag an innocent into the mix, and for what? At the most, she’s a chew toy. I swore I would be patient about this when the time came. Obviously they aren’t taking nesting seriously, which only pisses me off because at least that would be a good reason for their distraction.
“She said her name is Cecelia.”
I stop mid-step, crimson snaking through my vision as Matt continues. “But she didn’t get much more than that.”
It takes every bit of restraint I have not to hurl my phone at the building next to me.
“Can you repeat that?”
“She said she seemed like a good—”
“No, the name. Are you sure it’s Cecelia?”
“Yeah. Cecelia, right?” I can tell he’s talking to his sister. “Yeah, man, that was her name. Said she was reluctant to drink or even hit a joint. That’s not exactly the club type.”
Ignoring the urge to correct him that you don’t have to be a joint smoking, alcoholic with low moral standards to be in my club, I opt for a pressing question. “When was this meetup?”
“I want to say a month and a half, maybe two.”
“Which is it?”
He holds the phone to his chest, no doubt consulting with his informative sister. “Alicia, that’s my sister, says two. We haven’t been to a meetup since, but I can try and find out if she’s been to any others.”
“You shouldn’t be able to find that out, should you, Matt?”
The whole club is based on anonymity, as in you had to have been there to know what went on. Loose lips aren’t tolerated, and his hesitance tells me he knows better. “Both this favor and my interest in this information are restricted to only me, am I clear?”
“Crystal.”
Two months.
Two that I’m aware of. Two months of a summer that I resigned to stay in Paris, trusting Dom and Sean to run the club while I dedicated my time chasing down my birth father. Months of brokering deals so they never have to worry about their financial future. Months where I’ve taken the risks, put my name in ink on the paperwork, my life on the line. Months where I’ve had to barter my way out of doing unspeakable acts to keep Antoine from ripping the remaining humanity out of me.
The kicker? Dom’s gone off the radar on more than one occasion when I desperately needed his help, leaving me open and vulnerable. My brother has never left me open and vulnerable, and because of that, I got suspicious and enlisted the help of one of our originals.
“Do you need me to go down there?”
“No. I’ll handle it. Thanks, Matt.”
Ending the call, I summon my driver, and in seconds, I’m in the back of my car, my laptop open as I look up the reports from the Raven in charge of keeping eyes on Cecelia Leann Horner.
“Où allons-nous, monsieur?” Where are we going, sir?
Tapping into my email, I shake my head. “Je ne sais pas encore.” I don’t know yet.
Their reports have been coming in weekly, like clockwork, with no change in frequency, and neglectfully, I haven’t checked a single one in months. In truth, I haven’t had a reason to. Cecelia and Roman’s relationship has been non-existent since I saw her last, ten fucking years ago.
It’s when I open an email from a month ago that I feel the brunt of Sean and Dom’s deception. As of a month ago, Cecelia was still reported as living in Peachtree City.