Behind Closed Doors (Behind Closed Doors #1)(70)

Jason holds up his hands. “I don’t want anyone hurt.”

“You don’t get to choose, if this person gets on the wrong radars,” Buddha says. “And you don’t f*ck around in Vegas and not get on the wrong radars. Did you check the hotel security footage for the tournament?”

“Even if we could get to it, which I can’t, I’d have to bring attention that I can’t afford to this matter.”

“Okay, then,” Buddha says. “We’ll start with me looking at the footage.”

“I told you, that’s not an option,” Jason says, a bite to his tone.

“And I just told you that I’d check it,” Buddha says, his tone almost amused. “The hotel staff doesn’t ask me why I want what I want. They just ask how they can get me what I want.” He stands. “Ella will give you my number and text me yours. I’ll be in touch in the next few hours.” And just like that, he turns and leaves the room.

“His number,” Ella says immediately, giving us all time to pull out our phones before she relays it. Then she stands, focusing on me. “I have to go back home. Can you walk me out?”

“You’re leaving already?” I ask.

“Unfortunately,” she confirms as we exit the dining room. “Some emergency family business is taking me out of town.”

“Is everything okay?” I ask, following her to the hallway, and thinking of her odd, coded words when I chatted with her on the phone yesterday.

“It’s fine,” she says, stopping by the door to face me. “I’m fine, and you will be, too. Buddha will take care of this. But if you get into any trouble and don’t know what to do, forget his crankiness and call him. Yes, he’s attached to the mob, and yes, he really is a lowlife, but sometimes it takes a lowlife to deal with a lowlife. And you are dealing with a lowlife.”

“I know we are—believe me.” I circle back to her. “But I’m worried about you.”

“It’s just family business,” she says. “I’ll be back soon, but I’m headed out of the country, so don’t be alarmed when you can’t reach me.” She hugs me. “Be safe.” And then, with nothing else at all, she just turns and leaves.

I watch the door open and shut, feeling shell-shocked, and reminded of Jason’s words. Ella is not what she seems. I believe that’s true. But I also believe that someone right here with Jason and me isn’t what they seem, either. And what’s really scary is that despite all the control freaks trying to get us out of trouble, the only one who seems to have any control at all is Buddha the mob man.





TWENTY


I’M STILL STANDING in the hallway, wishing for that journal to document everyone I’ve come in contact with, when Daniel and Jason’s voices lift in the air nearby. Following their muffled conversation to the kitchen, I find them facing each other across the island.

“I know you feel like my running these security profiles damages relationships,” Daniel says, “but it’s a mistake not to finish what we’ve started. We need the PI to finish running them on everyone who’s close to you. And before you argue too much—”

“I agree,” I say firmly, stepping to the end of the island, between both men. “Why are you fighting this, Jason? It has to be done, and start with me, Abel, and Daniel, so you have the peace of mind of knowing you can trust those closest to you. If someone is offended, then they have something to hide.”

Daniel straightens and crosses his arms. “An interesting detail I was about to share with Jason: I had them run a check on you the minute you bought that unit.”

“Daniel, damn it,” Jason bites out. “Don’t go rogue on me.” He looks at me, no doubt gauging my reaction. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” I say. “I told you both already that I want you to check me out. And I’m eager for the report to arrive so you have peace of mind, and”—I look at Daniel—“so you can stop being an * to me.” I purse my lips and fold my arms in front of me. “Unless that’s just natural.”

“No need to wait,” he says. “I received your report and mine just a few minutes ago.” He glances at Jason. “I had them both sent directly to your email, though I did receive a copy of Skye’s.” Then he looks at me. “Holy shit, woman. Your father’s Aaron Newton?”

Jason’s gaze cuts sharply to me. “The Hall of Fame pitcher?”

“Yes,” I say, then suck in a heavy breath and let it out. “He was—or is, I mean. He is my father.” I direct a pointed look at Daniel. “And now you want to know why I’m working two jobs to pay for law school.” It’s not a question.

“Yes, actually, I do,” he says.

“Skye and I will have this conversation alone,” Jason states with no give to his voice.

“No,” I say firmly. “I want the air cleared once and for all. My father cut me off the minute the courts no longer required him to pay child support. And what money my mother had, she blew playing cougar to men my age. So being poor is a way of life for me, but so is making it on my own. That being the case, if I was in on this with Stephanie, I think it’s pretty damn obvious that I would have taken the hundred grand Jason offered me for the unit.”