Carter Reed(87)

The fun ended an hour later.

Carter had been talking to the board members the whole time when a man went over and whispered something in his ear. I stood up without thinking. The conversation at my table stopped and Amanda asked, frowning, “What’s wrong?”

Theresa turned towards Carter. “Where’s he going?”

I couldn’t answer them, but my gut had dropped out of me. Something was wrong. Something was happening. We watched as he turned for a side door. The man went with him, but gave him one final nod before he turned away and went through a different door.

I started forward.

“Emma!” Amanda hissed at me. Her hand grabbed onto my wrist. “What are you doing?”

“Something’s wrong.”

“So let it go. Carter knows what he’s doing.”

I frowned at her. What was she doing? She’d never questioned me before, but I only pulled my wrist away. “Watch my purse.” Then I hurried after him. When I got to the hallway, I couldn’t see him, but I turned to the farthest corner. There was something about that man. He wasn’t dressed like everyone else. He wore a suit, not a tuxedo. His hair hadn’t been slicked back like most of the other men who were dressed to impress that night. There was nothing about the guy that should’ve made him seem out of place, but a lightbulb clicked. That was it. He was nondescript. He looked like he wanted to blend in and because of that, because I’d been around Carter’s security guards enough, I knew he’d been one of his men. He hadn’t been a guard though. If he had, he would’ve returned to his post, but no—the guards were all dressed in black suits. This guy wore a brown one.

He was mob. I knew it.

I turned another corner and stopped short. The guy was there, at the far end. He was looking out the window with his phone pressed to his ear. He was talking into it and as he seemed to be following something outside, he was relaying instructions over his phone.

I started for him. If Carter wasn’t around to give me answers, he would, but I was pulled into an empty conference room.

Gasping, I was pushed against the wall and a hand covered my mouth. A body pressed against mine. All the tension left me. This was Carter. My body reacted before I realized it was him and it softened. My legs parted for him and he bent closer, nuzzling under my neck, before he whispered, “What are you doing?”

My eyes snapped open. This wasn’t my Carter. This was their Carter. I pushed him away. “I was following you.”

He leaned back, but his body kept mine anchored to the wall. His eyes were hard and aggravated.

I didn’t care. I kept my hand on his chest. I needed to feel his heartbeat, to know when if he was lying to me. “Where were you going?”

“To the bathroom.”

His heart didn’t skip a beat. Nothing. It was steady, but I knew he was lying. I saw it in his eyes. “This isn’t the bathroom.”

A grin teased at the corner of his mouth. Then his eyes switched. They darkened and lust began to fill them. “I was coming back.”

“You were leaving.”

The lust vanished and he took a step back now. The air felt cold without his heat, but I stopped myself from feeling it.

His eyes narrowed, but he murmured as his hand began to caress the back of my neck, “You don’t believe me.”

I shoved his hand away. “Stop manipulating me.”

All gentleness vanished. A hard wall came over him now. “You stop it, Emma.”

Sucking in my breath, I hadn’t expected that harshness to come at me. Blinking back tears from the shock of it, I geared myself to be strong. I had to stick with the truth. That was the hand I had and I needed to use it. “Who was that man?”

“What man?”

“Stop lying to me,” I hissed, gritting my teeth.

His eyes closed to slits now and I knew he was reassessing me. I didn’t care. I snarled at him, “I know you’re lying so stop it. I know something’s going on. I know that man came to you and said something to you. I know he’s with the mob.”

There.

My heart skipped a beat.

I tossed out the first card and I waited.

It was now his turn. Would he continue to lie or would he tell me the truth? I needed the truth. I was realizing that. He had protected me for so long, as I tried to protect my loved ones, as I tried to protect him when we were children, but it would have to be different now.

“He is.”

Relief rushed through me and my knees sagged, but I wasn’t done. I forced myself to stand firm as I said the rest, “I know that Franco is alive.”

Okay, that was a total bluff, but it’d been bothering me for the past few days.

He didn’t react. Nothing.

I frowned. What did that mean? But then he took a deep breath and pressed his lips together. The ice in his blue wolf-like eyes dimmed a little and he glanced away. His jaw clenched as he swallowed, taking a breath at the same time, but then he turned back. It was there. I was bowled over with the realization. Franco was alive. I saw it in his eyes. Releasing a ragged breath, I couldn’t talk for a moment. No words could even formulate in my mind. Where did I go from there?

“You should go back to the party.”

I reared back. That was it? “Are you kidding me?”

He grew weary.

I shook my head, a bitter laugh spouting from me. “I can’t believe you. Franco’s alive and that’s all you say to me? I should go back?”