The Safe Bet (Hidden Truths #1)(44)

Kate trained her eyes on the FBI agent, who was killing her on the inside with tiny little knife jabs of unwanted truth.

“Your dad arrived on the scene right after it happened—your mom was still alive, but barely. The medics couldn’t save her, but the ER doctors were able to save you.” He took a breath.

Jake might as well have put a gun to her heart. It felt like her life was seeping from her. She looked down at her chest to see if there was blood.

Jake continued, despite the fact that Kate was ready to collapse into an abyss of darkness. “The police decided it must have been a robbery gone bad, that maybe the burglars expected the home to be empty, and your mother confronted them with her father’s gun. Perhaps they took the gun and shot her . . . and then when her boyfriend—your father—showed up, they took off.”

She was touching her chest now. There was real pain there. She could feel it. She couldn’t possibly be imagining the feeling—her heart was constricting against her ribcage. Her nails clawed at her chest as she struggled to catch her breath.

“Kate?” Worry lit across Michael’s face. “Are you okay?” He darted toward her, holding her arm as if she might fall. He guided her back to the armchair.

She sat down for a few minutes in silence.

Murder?

No, it wasn’t possible.

“My dad would have told me. I don’t believe it,” she mumbled.

Jake let out a breath and continued to speak with a steady but softer voice. “Your father took you to New York as soon as the hospital let him. And your grandparents abandoned their home after the shooting. Either it was too painful for them to be in Charlotte or they suspected the murder was more . . . personal . . . than the police explanation.”

Her legs felt heavy, even though she was sitting down. “My dad left Charlotte because my mom died here. He left because this city was a painful reminder of her existence. Not because she was murdered.”

“Kate, I’m sorry, but it’s true. I can show you the police report if you’d like,” Jake said.

Michael’s eyes narrowed on Jake as he held up his hand. A warning.

“She needs to know this,” Jake insisted. He stood up and walked over to Kate.

Her attention shifted up to meet Jake’s eyes. “Go on,” she whispered.

“DNA evidence was brand new back then, and forensics didn’t reveal much. There was evidence of a breakin at the door to the back entrance. Your father reported that a family necklace your mother always wore was missing from her neck. Since your father saw no sign of a vehicle, the police assumed the robbers had parked down the street and approached the house on foot. Because your father worried there was more to the story, the cops interviewed friends and classmates of your mother, but they came up with a bunch of loose ends.”

Kate wasn’t sure how she would manage to stand. “I need to make a call. Excuse me.” She stood, but her legs had that weird, rubbery sensation as she walked. She didn’t remember how she got to her bedroom or dialed her father’s number, but she was now listening to him say her name for the third time.

“Are you okay? Kate? Say something.”

She shut her eyes. “You lied to me. Why?”

“What in God’s name are you talking about? What’s going on?” Her father’s voice had lost its cool edge. It broke with stress.

“Mom was murdered.” The words sounded strange as they rolled off her tongue.

Silence greeted her on the other end of the line.

“Why did you lie to me?” Her eyes flashed open, and she gripped the phone tight to her ear.

“Who told you this?”

“I just want the truth. What happened to her?”

“I’m taking the next flight to Charlotte. I’ll call you when I land, and then I’m picking you up and taking you home.”

The line went dead.

She continued to hold the phone to her ear as though answers would pour forth from it.

“Kate?” Michael rapped at the door. “Are you all right?”

“Go away.” It was her turn to blow him off. To close herself up and hide behind a fortified wall of steel.

“I can’t do that.” Michael opened the door, and she regretted not locking it. She dropped her phone on the bed and focused her attention on the plush carpet beneath her toes. Don’t cry. Don’t break down in front of him.

“Kate.”

She shifted to lie down. Turning away from him, she pleaded, “Please, leave.”

But he ignored her, damn him. She felt the weight of the bed shift as he joined her, and when he wrapped an arm around her, tugging her flush to his body, she cried, “Let me go. Leave.” She started to struggle, to shift her shoulders, to move away from him, but he only tightened his hold.

“I’m here for you, Kate. Let me be here for you.”

“Damn you,” she hissed. He had no right to be her savior right now. To be the friend she’d tried to be to him.

But as he nuzzled his face to her neck, sweeping his hand down the side of her face, she gave in to the warmth. To the comfort and feeling of safety.

And tears began to stream down her face as she remained tucked against the one man who could possibly hurt her more than her stalker. The man who was slowly possessing her heart.