Forsaken (The Secret Life of Amy Bensen #3)(41)

I despise every word she’s just spoken, when I should embrace them. Instead, I want to make us both forget they exist. I need, and I don’t even know what I need anymore. I grab her pants and toss them aside, tangling fingers in her hair. “Sex is how we cope?”

“You know it is.”

“Then let’s do a little more coping.”

“Yes,” she whispers. “Let’s.”

My cock thickens with her approval, my body hard and hot. I can’t get enough of her but I’m damn sure going to try. I lower my head, anticipating the taste of her, the moment I will once again be inside her, when suddenly my cell phone rings. I pause, lost in a haze of lust, in a burn for this woman, but the ring sounds again, jolting me back to reality.

Blood pumping fiercely, I release Gia, scrambling for my pants, cursing myself for leaving my phone unattended. Relieved and scared shitless of what I’m about to hear, I dig it out of my pocket and hit the Answer button in time to hear, “I’m calling you back, motherf*cker.”





TEN



AT THE SOUND of Jared’s voice, the tension in my spine eases only a fraction. “Tell me my sister’s alive.”

“She is. And she’s safe. For now. But we need to talk.”

“Define ‘safe.’?”

“No imminent threat.”

“Where is she?”

“Do you really want to do this on the phone?”

“How likely is it that anyone else saw me go to that apartment?”

“The apartment itself, zero. I have it wired with cameras and a silent alarm. You were the first mouse in my trap, but I reset it to see who else might come calling.”

I open my mouth to ask if he means Meg, but glance at Gia, who’s naked and hugging herself, and I hesitate to bring Jared here for reasons I can’t explain. “1732 Wazee Street in half an hour.” I end the call and Gia is already getting dressed. “The contact I’ve been trying to reach left me a number at my sister’s apartment. We need to go and meet him.”

“We?”

“I have a safe house near here where we’ll stay until we decide what comes next.”

“Then why come here at all?”

“I knew the maid service would rescue you if I didn’t come back from that apartment.”

She tugs her shirt over her head. “I don’t know if I should thank you or tell you you’re crazy.”

“Neither.” I sit down and start putting on my boots.

Gia sits and does the same with her tennis shoes. “So your sister’s alive?”

“He says she is.”

“You don’t believe him?”

I stand up and grab the duffel. “I need to see her with my own eyes.”

She nods and pushes herself to her feet, sliding her bag over her shoulder. “I would, too. Chad. How much do you trust this person we’re meeting?”

“I trusted him with my sister’s life.”

“Right. Of course.”

I narrow my gaze. “Why?”

“Because greed is a terrifying thing. What you have, or what people think you have, represents the kind of power that changes people.”

“And you know this how?”

“We all know it in our core. It’s humanity.” She draws in a breath. “You said you’d sell me if the price was right. What would this man do if the price is right?”

My gut clenches and I grab her and pull her to me. “I was trying to make sure you don’t trust anyone. I was trying to keep you alive.”

“I got the message. You’re a treasure hunter. I’m just lucky enough to be worth nothing to anyone—unless Sheridan simply wants to punish me for betraying him. But your sister is another story. She means everything to you, and Sheridan knows that. This man we’re about to meet knows that. Meg knew that. Even I know that. Listen to your own advice. Trust no one. Not even this person we’re going to meet now.”

“He protected my sister.”

“Who is the best way to get to you.”

“He doesn’t even know what Sheridan is after.”

“If he’s good enough and smart enough to be worthy of protecting your sister, do you really think he didn’t dig in and find out?”

“Sheridan hasn’t exactly made this public.”

“You think that he couldn’t have found out, Chad? Trust no one.”

“Including you, sweetheart.”

“I’m not asking for your trust. I’m demanding your brains. Use them. Now.”

“Why does this matter to you?” My fingers dig into her arms and I give her a shake. “Why?”

“Because,” she hisses without any hesitation, “if you really have the cylinder, and if it really works, it could save our world as easily as it could destroy it, and that’s all in your hands. And mine, too, if I can influence you to protect it.”

“And if I have it? What do you want to do with it? Whose interest are you servicing?”

“Not yours, if you want to sell it to the highest bidder. It can’t be sold. It can’t be given to anyone who will abuse it. I don’t know what the hell to do with it—but I know you can’t sell it like you said you’d sell me.”