Moonlighter (The Company, #1)(22)

But mom lost it, throwing one of her fits. “You’re never home! You don’t care about me!” I sat on the couch and pretended she wasn’t screaming and crying. I never knew what to do when my mom was upset.

Only it didn’t end in the usual way—with the slam of the bedroom door. This time she packed a bag and walked right out the front door, barely even saying goodbye. “I’ll be at my sisters,” she said to Max, who followed her outside.

I stared at the football game, barely seeing it. They fought all the time, but she never walked out before.

Even then, I didn’t really think it was permanent. Who leaves without saying goodbye to her kids? I didn’t cry, or plead with her. Not because I wouldn’t have bothered. Just because I didn’t believe she meant to stay away.

For a month I watched the front door, thinking she’d walk back through it. Then one day dad took me out for ice cream after school—just me, not Max. “She’s not coming back, son,” he said as the spoon halted on its way to my mouth. “It’s not your fault, either.”

“Then whose fault is it?” I’d spat.

“Nobody’s,” my dad grumbled. “Your mom expects her life to be one long party. But nobody’s is. She’ll figure that out eventually. I’m just sorry for you and your brother that she couldn’t be the mother you need. I guess that’s what I get for marrying someone fifteen years younger than I am.”

And remind me why I’m thinking about this? The Hawaiian sand is warm under my feet. I’m carrying my shoes and watching children run into and out of the surf. I’m full of good food, and the sun is shining. My bossy companion in the tiny bikini is whistling an off-key tune.

“Where shall we have dinner?” Alex asks as our hotel comes into view.

“Dinner? Aren’t you too full of ice cream to care?”

“Eventually I will, though, and so will you.” Alex gives me a glare that dares me to argue. “I’m going to look for a nice restaurant off the property. I’d rather not run into him again before I have to.”

“Yeah, okay.” If Alex wants to dine somewhere special, I won’t argue. Much.

We’re just heading up the carefully manicured path to the hotel when my phone makes a sound I’ve never heard before. It’s a buzz, like an angry wasp.

Worse, Alex’s phone does the same. She halts in her tracks. “That can’t be good. My phone only makes that sound when theres a security breach.”

“Does that happen a lot?”

“No.”

I lift my head and scan our surroundings. The resort’s generous lawn is lightly occupied by sunbathers in hammocks. Four teenagers are playing chess with giant pieces on a black-and-white tiled patio.

It’s not exactly a threatening environment, but I take a step closer to Alex anyway, and then I pull out my phone. There’s a message from an unidentified number. Return to the room, but do not touch anything until cleared by our team.

“Well, that’s ominous,” Alex grumbles, looking over my shoulder. She pulls out her phone. “I have the same message.”

We ride the elevator in silence. And when we reach the suite, the door is already ajar. Inside I spot an unfamiliar man. He turns immediately to flash me his ID. There’s no name on it, of course. The Company doesn’t do that. There is, however, a holographic picture of a skeleton key. That’s my brother’s symbol.

I nod. “I’m Eric. Nice to meet you—?”

“Pieter. Sorry for the intrusion.”

“What happened here?”

Before he gets a chance to answer, another man appears in the bedroom doorway, and I’m startled to see that it’s Gunnar, my brother’s second-in-command. “Hey, Eric. Alex. You guys had a break-in.”

“By who?” Alex asks, her voice tight.

“Pieter, please close the door,” he says instead of answering.

As the other man does his bidding, I feel a flash of anger at whichever asshole is responsible for putting that scared look on Alex’s face. But also at my brother Max, for making me a part of this drama. And Gunnar is in Hawaii? They obviously have a cast of thousands here to protect Alex. This shouldn’t be my problem.

Except it is, because Alex looks pale right now, and I feel like a heel for wishing myself away from here.

“All right,” Gunnar says, plunking a tablet on the table. “Sit down, and I’ll show you what we saw on the feed.”

I sit down beside Alex on the sofa while Gunnar brings up the video shot by the pillow cam. The same one currently parked behind my left butt cheek.

And I have to admit that the gear Max and Gunnar have perfected over the years is pretty damn impressive. Gunnar waves his hand in front of the screen to start the silent video playing. On it, our hotel room appears in perfect resolution. The door swings open, admitting a man who is already shoving a key card into his pocket. He’s wearing a fishing hat with a wide brim that dips over his features. If you passed him in the lobby, it would only look a little sloppy. But it does a remarkable job concealing the top half of his face.

“Shit,” I curse as he moves through the frame without showing his eyes. I can barely make out his jawline.

“Please tell me you recognize him?” Gunnar asks. “Because that doesn’t look like Jared Tatum to me. His shoulders are too broad.”