Reveal (Wicked Ways #2)(79)

“There were plans?” I ask, and Abel nods. “Care to expand?” I laugh nervously as they both fix their unrelenting stares on me.

“We planned on waiting until he made his move on you . . . then we’d make ours on him. We’d push and pressure and use you as leverage,” Noah explains.

“But I don’t understand. It would be simple solicitation. Sleeping with underage girls is a way stronger case.”

“Yeah, but if we add aggravated assault—”

“You already have that in my proof. The pictures of him and a minor,” I interject, and Abel clenches his jaw in reaction.

“Do you care to let us run this discussion, Ms. Sanders, or should we just press those charges now?”

I stare at Abel and his threat and dutifully fold my hands in my lap to hide their trembling. “Sorry, but I’m not following what . . . oh.” It’s all I can say as my thoughts fall in line. “You were going to use me. You were going to wait for him to hurt me and then swoop in and use that against him as leverage for whatever it is you want from him.” I blink as I try to comprehend that they would really do that.

They don’t waver in the least at my accusations. Instead, Noah takes a sip of his Sprite, his eyes on mine.

“You’ve told the senator you have something else on him, and yet you’ve never quite elaborated what it is.” Abel lifts his eyebrows, neither confirming nor denying my accusation, and that in itself sends chills down my spine.

“Wait a minute. After you got what you wanted from Carter, what was going to happen to me?” My voice is barely a whisper.

“You were collateral damage,” Abel says, eyes boring into mine as he lifts his eyebrows. “We were using you, and if the Southern District of New York wanted to press charges against a madam who became known in the midst of our process or from the fallout”—he shrugs—“then so be it.”

My ears ring. Collateral damage? Press charges?

Am I going to lose everything I’ve worked for? Everything I took all these risks for? The irony isn’t lost on me—that I started Wicked Ways as a means to save Lucy, and it just might be the reason I lose her.

The panic attack hits me full on without holding any punches. Assuming it is one thing. Living with the hint of its fear for so long has almost dulled the thought, made it blend into the background, but now—now that I’m sitting here with two federal agents, now that I’ve heard the actual words spoken out loud from an FBI agent—this is a whole dose of reality I can’t fathom.

Noah is up in an instant, his hand on my shoulder as he urges me to breathe slowly. As he tells me to calm down while I want to scream at him that there’s no way I can be calm.

Abel pushes a bottle of water across the coffee table, and Noah picks it up and hands it to me.

A few minutes pass before I feel like I can continue.

“You good?” Noah asks, and I do the only thing I can. I nod.

“As I asked before, what else do you have on the senator?”

I force myself to keep my voice steady in the two seconds I have to respond to his question before he knows I’m lying. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“I was bluffing him,” I reassert, and for some reason I stand my ground, uncertain why it is I feel the need to keep the call log I have a secret, but in that split second, I do. The only time I mentioned it as a log to Carter was when we were face-to-face in my driveway, not on my phone, so they couldn’t have heard what was going on. “He didn’t seem fazed by the photos, so I needed something else to hold over his head since the damage he could inflict on me was much greater.”

They both eye me, and I lift my eyebrows and stare back so they buy my lie.

You are lying to the FBI, Vaughn. You have something more on him. Are you out of your goddamn mind?

“Like ruin your life.”

My eyes snap over to Abel, his threat more than loud and clear.

“So if I was bait in a plan that you’re no longer going to implement . . . why am I here, then?”

Abel grins, but there is zero humor in it. “Plan B.”

“Plan B? What’s plan B?” I ask.

“Instead of waiting for him to come to you . . . we’re going to push the envelope, and you’re going to tell him you’re ready to sleep with him.”

I measure my reaction, but I’m more than certain they can see the disgust and rejection in my expression.

“And then what? There’s no way in hell I’m sleeping with him, let alone allowing him to touch me.” I push up out of my seat and start to move about the room. This is all way too real, way too raw, and I know that I’m in a shitload of trouble. “I’m not a prostitute.”

Abel lifts a single eyebrow, and I glare at him.

“No one is asking you to sleep with him,” Noah says.

“Just make sure you get what we need before that part of the program arrives.”

I whip my head over to Abel at his comment, and right now I hate him with every part of my being.

“What exactly is it that you want from him? Don’t you think that would be pertinent for me to know?” Tears of frustration well, and again Abel points for me to sit down. I hate that I have to obey, but I do.

“The senator is selling votes.”