Heart of the Devil (The Forge Trilogy #3)(28)

After we finish eating, Summer asks me if I want to come out with her to a club tonight. “The best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.”

“I don’t think so.” I give her a hug and tell Alanna, “You don’t have to stay here. I’ll be okay. I’m just going to lick my wounds for a while, and I’ll join the living again. Just not yet.”

With concerned expressions, they both study me.

“I’ll be back to normal soon. Just . . . give me a little space.”





25





India





Two weeks later, Summer has had enough of my hibernating. Apparently, she doesn’t buy that I’m too busy with my latest Netflix series binge to leave the flat.

“You have to get out of here before you become furniture. Seriously, Indy. This isn’t you. You need to be out doing things. Living. That’s what you love.”

Love. What bullshit.

But I’m not about to spew my jaded views at my sister right now. “I showered today. What more do you want from me?”

Summer’s temper snaps. “I want you to leave this fucking flat and stop scaring Alanna to death! This isn’t only affecting you, you know.”

And here comes the guilt. “Fuck. I’m sorry. I . . . didn’t think about that.”

“Probably because you’re only feeling sorry for yourself.” She plops down on the table between me and the TV. “So what if your marriage is over. Your life isn’t. Go out and fucking live it. Your phone won’t stop buzzing with invites to games all over the world. People are talking about Prague and what a beast you were. If you don’t capitalize on it now, you might never get another chance like this.”

“Wait.” I hold up a finger. “How did you get in my phone?”

“You used my birthday as a pass code. It wasn’t hard.”

It reminds me of when Forge hacked into my phone, and now I know it wasn’t for the reason he gave me. He already knew my sister had been kidnapped.

I slam down the lid on the iron box that I’m keeping all Forge thoughts in. Stop thinking about him. It’s over. He tossed you out like rotten fish. Focus on the present.

I have my winnings from the Prague Grand Prix, and I have a $5 million side bet to collect from Belevich to add to my stash. And apparently, I have invitations to play all over the world.

The old Indy would scan through them with glee in her eyes, but I feel no such excitement. I feel . . . nothing. Like I’m dead inside.

Stop being so dramatic. That’s Summer’s MO.

But I’ve also never fallen in love like this before . . . Slam. The. Lid. Down.

I glance at my sister’s concerned face. Someday, I have to tell her that her mother was a kidnapper who lied about me being dead to my father, but not today.

“Where’s my phone?”

My sister hops off the table and scampers into the kitchen with way too much energy. A moment later, she drops it in my lap. I tap in the code, and sure enough, she’s opened all the texts that have been sent for the last couple weeks. Many of the games have already taken place.

I get to Belevich’s message.



Belevich: I’m back on Ibiza. I’ve got your money.



I want the money because I earned it fairly, and I’d like to thank him for what he did for me in Prague.

When grief rises up to swamp me, I can’t lock it down in the box. I should have gone to the funerals. Should have apologized to the families of the men who died. Told them it was my fault. But I’ve been hiding in my apartment like a little coward.

That stops today. I’m done hiding from the world. I’ve never needed a man in my life to define me before, and I don’t need one now.

I almost believe my own pep talk. At least that’s progress.

I respond to Belevich.



Indy: Address?



His reply is almost instantaneous.

I look up at my sister, finally feeling like I have a purpose. “I need to go out.”

Summer’s smile could light the world with its brilliance. “Good. That’s exactly what I wanted to hear. Plus, I’m sure the security guys who have been trading shifts outside the building for the last couple weeks will like a change of scenery.”

“Still? They didn’t go away?”

Summer’s blond hair swings from side to side. “Not except to trade off shifts with some guys I didn’t recognize.”

My first thought is to call Forge and ask him who else he sent, but I won’t. Ever.

Instead, I call Alanna, tell her I’m ready to rejoin the land of the living, and go back to my room to change into clothes that haven’t been worn for three days straight.

Time to find Belevich.





I hit the steps to my building where Superman is standing guard.

Why would Forge still have them watching out for me?

I want to read into it. Tell myself that Forge still cares, but I can’t lie to myself like that. He’s doing it because of the guilt. That’s all. Even though pain stabs into my heart, I tell myself I feel nothing. Absolutely nothing. Numbness is a hell of a lot easier to deal with than the feelings that I still can’t manage to stamp out, no matter how hard I try.