Carter Reed 2 (Carter Reed #2)(38)

The knocking came again. Carter looked back at the door. “Come quietly. I’m going.”

“Okay.”

He disappeared from the doorway, and I hurried. Grabbing the other 9mm—the one Carter didn’t know I knew about—from the closet, I made sure the safety was on and headed down the hall behind him. Shoes. Shit. Remembering one of his rules—always be prepared to run—I went back and slipped on some sneakers. Then as quietly as I could, I went out to the living room. When I got there, Carter was talking to Thomas so I slowed to a walk, knots in my gut. They spoke in quiet, hushed tones, and as I approached, both looked at me with emotionless faces.

My pulse spiked for a second. “What is it?” Another bombing. Someone had been shot. Scenarios flashed through my mind.

“It’s your sister,” Carter said, and images of her—with my face—bloody and broken, replaced those other thoughts.

I reached for the wall to steady myself. “What? Is she okay?”

Thomas left, shutting the door behind him, and Carter came over to me. “She’s at a club asking for you.”

“Club? What club?”

“One of mine. She caused a scene, and the staff took her in when someone snapped her picture. She wouldn’t stop yelling until they promised to get you.” He paused a beat, skimming over my face. “It’s up to you. What do you want to do?”

“I want to see her.” I remembered seeing her the other night, after the bomb went off. “So it was her.”

“Looks like.”

“Oh.” Okay then. This was actually happening. “I’m going to see my sister.”

He nodded again, still watching me intently. “Are you sure you want to do it this way? She commands, and you show up? Do you want to control the environment?”

My sister. I couldn’t get over it. “What?” It was really happening. “Huh?”

“Emma.” Carter took my shoulders and bent down so his eyes were level with mine. “Focus. Your sister chose this time and place. What if it’s a trap? What if the Bartels got to her?”

My hands clutched at his arms. “We have to go now, then, before they do something.”

“No, you’re not listening. What if she’s working for them? Another attack? You could be walking into that.”

I wanted to scream. He had a point…but she was my sister. She had answers about AJ and what happened to us. I took a deep breath. “Then that’s a risk I’m willing to take, Carter.” My fingers gripped more tightly around his arm. “I want to see her, too. She was there that night, and she looked scared for me.”

“Are you sure?”

I knew where she was, and I knew it was her. A stampede of horses couldn’t keep me away. “I am. I really am.” Then a storm of nerves started up in my stomach. “I’m ready.”

I didn’t pay attention to where we were driving. As the car pulled up to a club, I focused on getting inside without looking at the surroundings at all. It was Carter’s. He had so many. Right now I was barely aware of Carter himself beside me.

I glanced down for the hundredth time and smoothed my hand over my pants. I hadn’t known what to wear. It was the middle of the night, so dressing up too much seemed silly. I’d changed three times, but I ended with a form-fitting black sweater and black pants. They weren’t jeans, but they weren’t dress pants either. They looked simple and comfortable, although I wasn’t paying attention to that either. I just wanted to look presentable for her…my sister. I still couldn’t believe it.

A guard opened the door, and as Carter went in, I reached for his hand, though we didn’t do public displays of affection. The few times the media caught us hugging or holding hands, those images never seemed to go away. A picture from eight months ago was still being recycled on a few news channels, but I couldn’t help myself tonight. I needed his touch. He settled me.

We passed the usual crowd of those who’d waited all night to get inside, but never did. They were slow to leave while celebrities were still standing around, having just been ushered out. It was the same scene I remembered from when I had stayed all night long, waiting to see Carter, at another club.

At the sight of us, people snapped to attention. “Hey! It’s Carter Reed,” someone hollered.

“It’s Emma! Emma!” called another.

More and more people turned to look at us, and out came the phones. Flashes lit up the night.

The guards beside us held their hands up, trying to block the views. Carter lifted his arm as well, over my shoulder, and I ducked underneath, hurrying forward through the opened door. Once we were inside, Carter issued the order: “Get rid of them.” A waitress came down a hallway to the right and he added, “Get rid of the staff, too. I want this building empty.”

He touched the small of my back and ushered me down a hallway. We moved quickly, going all the way through the building to the back exit.

When I saw it, I started to slow down. “Carter, what—”

His hand was firm on my back. “Trust me.” He guided me out the door to where another car waited for us, and as we exited, I saw Michael. He opened the back door to the car, and we got inside. One of the guards pushed in behind us. Before I could settle into my seat, the car was already shooting ahead.