“Money’s a problem why?” I ask, despite money being exactly what has worried me about Liam in the past.
“Chad was in bed with an enemy with bucket-loads of money. Liam has bucket-loads of money and those people don’t grow on trees any more than the green stuff does. It’s a common denominator and it’s dangerous.”
“He’s not dangerous to me or my brother. He is dangerous to anyone who tries to hurt me.”
“If you trust him, then why leave him behind in Denver?”
“How do you know I wasn’t with him?”
“Hacking has a broad reach. He was looking for you just like I was.”
“I got spooked.”
“Stay spooked. It’s safer where he’s concerned. And he’s going to get that same ID flag I did. If I’m right about him, and he’s in this mess up to his neck, he’s going to come for you and we’re going to need a plan for him in this and soon.”
He clearly doesn’t know I’d reunited with Liam and I’m not telling him. “Did my brother say Liam was a part of this?”
“I’d love to lie and get you the hell out from under Liam’s spell. I thought you were out from under it, but you clearly aren’t. But you were right when you said you’ve lived enough lies. I haven’t had any conversations with your brother about Liam Stone, but I don’t like that when I got to Denver, Chad wasn’t there and Liam was.”
“Then do you have one piece of information in all your hacking or otherwise that says he is?”
“No, but--”
“No,” I supply. “That’s the answer. And yes, he has money. That isn’t a sin.”
“Do you trust me?”
“I don’t know you. I’m with you because my brother trusts you.”
“If Liam Stone wants whatever Chad has, he will come for you. If Liam Stone wants you, he will come for you. Either way, we have Liam Stone to deal with. And Meg, who you still haven’t told me how you ended up with.” He scrubs a hand over his jaw and sighs. “Right now we need to get inside where we’ll feel safer. I’m going in to register and I’d rather you not be seen, but I also don’t want you sitting here unprotected.” He reaches across me, his arm touching my leg as he opens the glove compartment and then slaps a gun on the seat between us. “I’ll be as quick as I can. I know you know how to shoot. Chad talked about you a lot. It’s loaded, so lock up until I get back and shoot anyone who isn’t me that tries to get in the truck. I’d say include Liam Stone, but somehow, I don’t think you’d listen.”
He starts to leave and I call, “Aren’t you afraid I’ll take off?”
“You want to save your brother. I want to save your brother. No. I don’t think you’ll take off.”
I open my mouth to reply but he’s gone before I can stop him, leaving me wondering what he has to show me, but then, I’m certain that was his intent. I watch him enter the motel, all loose-legged swagger and bad boy confidence, a different kind of male grace than Liam’s, but still wholly male, still a demanding presence. Though he looks nothing like Chad, he reminds me of him, and I can see them as friends.
Nervous about needing the gun he’s left me, I settle it in my lap, check for the safety, and spend the next five minutes scanning the area, intermittently eying Jared through the glass at the counter. I’m surprised to be calm and unemotional. I’m in that zone I use to use to survive. It used to be my comfort zone, a place I escaped the darkness of my fear, but it’s now an icy hollow place I do not want to visit.
In only a few minutes, Jared saunters back toward me and climbs into the truck, surprising me by reaching for the gun in my lap, covering my hand holding it with his.
Our eyes meet and I can see the heat in his and I’m not sure why. I’m a mess, barely showered and...I just don’t get it, but I’m hoping it’s not going to be a problem. “I’ll let you keep it on one condition,” he negotiates.
“Condition?”
“You have to promise not to use it on me.”
“Haven’t considered that just yet.”
He chuckles and releases the gun to start the engine. “Guess I’m doing something right then. Put it in your purse. I’ll feel better if you're armed. We’re around the back of the building. I didn’t want us to be seen and the faster we get inside and stay inside, the better.”
Ah, I think. The familiar drill and supposed brilliance that everyone thinks is the hermit strategy. Until there’s a fire. It’s a horrible thought and I cut my gaze to the window, thinking of that damn sign “Red Heaven Restaurant.” Maybe it’s a tribute, not a slap, but Sheridan is into oil and thanks to Jared I now know my family was, too.
Jared opens his door and I blink to realize he’s killed the engine and we’ve arrived at our building. I quickly place the gun in my purse and follow him outside, surprised at how little anxiety I feel with Jared, considering the motel. But he knows my brother, and I hunger to hear more about Chad, even more so, I crave the moment I can hug my brother again.
By the time I read the number on the chipped, powder blue door, Jared is already swiping the key. He motions me forward and I enter to a musty smell that I dismiss with the relief of finding two beds that seem to support my trust in Jared. Or maybe it’s all the place had, but I’m going to go with my instincts.
Jared shuts the door behind me and locks it, and I turn to watch him. He unzips his bag and sets a gun on the bed. Now, I’m nervous and my heart lurches, my eyes meeting his. “If anyone comes in that door,” he explains, motioning to the gun, “they meet Berta. And she’s a bitch to swallow.”
“Well then I’m glad to meet her,” I say, though she isn’t any more comforting than his obvious thought that we need her.
His eyes soften, his voice turning all silky and gentle. “Why don’t you join me so we can talk.”
I nod and claim the opposite bed, and we sit with the nightstand separating us, knees a foot apart. He stares at me and doesn’t speak and I do not like the sympathy etched in his brown eyes. “What? Whatever you’re hanging on to and not saying, just say it. You’re scaring me again.”
“I could sit here and weed through how you got with Meg and what you’ve been through but I’m just going to get right to what matters. Four days after I got the message from your brother, I got a second call from him. This time, I answered in time to talk to him.”
Adrenaline pours through me. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“It wasn’t the right time.”
I’m pretty sure that means I’m not going to like what is coming. “And?” I prod anxiously.
“I’m going to shoot straight with you because I think it’s the only way you can make a clear decision about what comes next.”
I clutch the blanket on the bed. “What does that mean?”
“It means, Chad was urgent and whispering on the call, clearly hiding. He said…” He hesitates, a muscle flexing in his whisker-dusted jaw.
“He said what?” I demand.
“He said he wasn’t going to make it through the night and all he cared about was you.”
“No. No. That can’t be. You said--”
“I haven’t given up hope on him. He was calling me to ensure you survived. He’s a survivor too, though, Amy. We will fight for him. I promise you.”
Hope is my enemy. It’s worse than lies. It promises and it takes back. It teases and it rips my heart out. “What else did he say?”
“He told me he left you instructions to protect yourself and 111 is the way to do it, whatever that means.”
“111,” I murmur and at first I think of the locker number at JFK where he’d left me a note but another memory surfaces. He and I had been at a dig site in Egypt, alone in a tent, hanging out as we often did, and Chad was stuffing pieces of paper he’d written on in an old wine bottle.
“What is it?” I’d asked.