No in Between (Inside Out #4)(45)

Blake walks in the door, and Chris wraps his arm around my neck. “Let’s talk about it at home.”

Home with Chris is the exact sanctuary I crave right now and I lean into him, welcoming the feel of the hard lines of his powerful body against mine.

“Ricco pulled out of the drive as I exited the building,” Blake announces, joining us. “No signs of any other trouble. Your driver is at the door waiting.”

Exiting the building with Blake protecting us, I slide into the back of the vehicle.

Blake tells Chris, “I’ll follow you to your apartment and have Jacob waiting for you. We’ll locate Ricco and Mary, and keep men on them.”

Chris joins me in the car and pulls me against him as if he needs me close, holding on a little too hard—or maybe not hard enough. At this moment, I’m not sure he can ever hold on hard enough.

? ? ?

The short drive home is silent. With the press all over this we don’t dare speak in front of the driver, and that suffocating feeling from the bathroom keeps trying to return. It has to be due to Ricco’s visit. The extremes he’ll go to to destroy Mark are terrifyingly similar to those Ava was willing to take with Rebecca. I’d thought Ricco was arrogant but misunderstood, more protector than aggressor, as Rebecca had said in her journals, but now I’m not sure. I didn’t believe Ava could kill, but she did. And I didn’t believe Michael, despite being an *, was capable of what he did to me, either.

By the time the driver stops in front of our apartment building, I feel as if I’m drowning in “what-ifs” and I am eager to escape. Jacob greets us as we exit and we join him to the left of the building entryway, out of the range of prying ears. “Ricco is in his home,” he tells us, “and we have a man watching him.”

Relief washes over me. “Thank God,” I murmur.

“What about Mary?” Chris asks.

I hadn’t even considered that she was also a potential threat. Proof that my head isn’t on straight.

“Mary’s staying with her parents,” Jacob supplies. “We confirmed that she’s there now, and we put a man on her as well. I have to say, I’m baffled by Ricco’s alignment with Ava. I thought he had feelings for Rebecca.”

“He hates Mark,” I reply. “And that makes it easy for him to believe Ava when she says Mark killed Rebecca, then threatened her and forced her into a fake confession.”

Jacob seems to consider that a moment. “Hmmm.”

“Yeah,” Chris replies. “My reaction as well.”

I glance between the two of them. “What does that mean?”

“From my perspective,” Chris replies, “something doesn’t add up with Ricco.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Jacob confirms, “and a number of scenarios come to mind. Ricco’s obsession with Rebecca borders on stalkerdom. Maybe he had a fit of jealousy and killed Rebecca himself.”

My lips part in shock. “Ricco? No. There’s no scenario where Ricco kills Rebecca, and Ava confesses. That makes no sense.”

“It doesn’t have to make sense,” Chris says. “Ava’s a crazy f*cking bitch and if the doctors who evaluated her don’t see that, they’re as stupid as she is insane.”

I shake my head. “No. Ricco doesn’t fit. He just doesn’t. Ryan said Ava called him the night Rebecca arrived, and the phone records confirm that.”

“Ricco tried to ruin Mark and Allure,” Chris argues, “and he did so at the risk and expense of his freedom and success. I’m not underestimating what he’s capable of.”

He’s right. I’m dismissing exactly what I’d thought on the ride over here. Ricco’s corrupted by the same irrational jealousy as Ava. This entire scenario is insanity. All Rebecca wanted was to chase her dreams, and to be loved the way she loved. Will we ever know the truth about what happened to her? Will we ever truly be safe again? I feel like we are standing in the center of evil, and the ground is an illusion.

Chris’s hand settles on my back and I sway in his direction, to the heat, the safety, the rightness that he is to me. “Sara and I are going upstairs,” he announces. “Call me if you hear anything new.”

“Is there anything either of you need now?” Jacob asks.

I snap, “For Rebecca to be alive, and this to be a big misunderstanding.” Jacob’s eyes widen, and my cheeks heat. I’m losing it again.

I turn away and walk toward the sliding door entry, tension climbing from my toes to my neck in about thirty seconds. I am tumbling down the hill I’d finally climbed.

I am not this weak. Not anymore. That was the past, the old me. The past. The past. The past. I’ll make it stop. I just need space. I need to think about my triggers. I need . . . space.

Chris murmurs something to Jacob that I can’t make out and then he falls into step with me as I enter the lobby. “Sara,” he says softly, willing me to look at him, and he is a powerful force, nearly impossible for me to resist.

But my need to hide my scattered emotions wins. This is not who he needs me to be. It’s not who I need me to be.

“Mr. Merit. Ms. McMillan.”

The greeting is delivered by an unfamiliar man in a suit and earpiece standing by the front desk. I assume he’s Jacob’s replacement.