Chapter Twelve Reed
Chapter Twelve
Reed
“I need to talk to you.” Hollis latched on to my forearm and tugged. “Alone.”
From inside the office, I surveyed my teammates, preparing myself to say no to her, but she squeezed her request right into my flesh, her nails digging in.
“Guess it’s urgent?” I said like a question as Alex gave me a funny smile and shrug. “I’ll follow ya, but mind letting go?”
She glanced at my arm and cursed, releasing me. “I left a mark.”
You always do. I waved off her apologetic expression, forcing a smile. “Where would you like to—”
“The bedroom.” She didn’t wait for my objection and took off, clearly assuming I’d do as promised and follow.
Great. Perfect. Just where I want your murderous older brother to find me alone with you. I dragged a palm down my face, muttered an, “I’ll be right back,” to the team, then did what I was told and met up with her in the bedroom.
It was my first time seeing her today; I’d only caught her staring down at me from the window this morning, and that was it. What happened that had her needing me ASAP and alone?
Hollis shut both doors behind me, then whirled around and declared, “I’m coming to Charleston with you and your team. With the time difference, if we leave soon, we can make it before nightfall.”
“Whoa, slow down.” I held up my hands like that’d do any good. I knew damn well once Hollis made up her mind, she became an in-motion human wrecking ball, swinging away. And I was currently her target.
She stepped in front of me like she was ready for a face-off. “I can’t stay here, and my family plans to kick you out. You know too much already. They won’t even let you sleep under the same roof as me and—”
“We know absolutely nothing. Neither do you, unless something changed this morning.” I folded my arms, doing my best to stand my ground so she wouldn’t knock me over, or the wind out of me.
“Tristan—you know about him. That’s apparently too much.” She flung her arm wide, narrowly missing whacking me in the jaw. The woman was dangerous for my physical and mental health.
I walked back a step, free and clear of her hands. I didn’t need to be punched again, or have nail marks in my skin like a brand. Not that I wouldn’t mind her—
Shit.
Another step back was needed. Unfortunately, I had nowhere else to go but up against the doors.
“We have contingency plans if they try to force us to leave. Gideon already tried that in your hotel room in Rome.”
“You were in my hotel room?” she asked, her voice softening a touch.
“Of course.”
“And?”
“No sign of any dude having also been in your suite,” I said, assuming that was what she was asking, that her family had raised the whole “off with a guy” story to her at some point.
“Apparently, I haven’t dated since college, and the only guy I seem to think I, um . . .”
My hand went up, begging her not to finish that dangling thought.
She discarded a pent-up breath. “I’m sorry.
Julian overwhelmed me in our family’s secret lair, and I learned some things, so I don’t feel”—she began unbuttoning her gold blouse as if this were the most normal thing to do right now—“like myself. Crazy, since I don’t know the real me, but you get the idea, right? ”
“And you’re taking off your shirt because . . . ?” I had no choice but to close the gap between us and take hold of her wrist, halting her.
The glimpse of that nude lacy bra that couldn’t contain the swell of her breasts would live rent-free in my head forever.
“Oh my gosh, I didn’t even realize I was doing it.” She clutched the fabric. “This is my mother’s, and it feels wrong to wear. I just wanted it off.”
I unhanded her, but I wasn’t ready to back up, worried she might reopen her blouse and kill me.
“Someone tossed your hotel suite and took a knife to your Prada, but I threw all your clothes back in it. I brought it here.” I hiked a thumb over my shoulder. “I’ll go find it if you promise to keep your top on in the meantime.”
“Someone searched my hotel room?”
“So, no one told you that?”
She shook her head.
“Your gun and purse were missing, and if you had a laptop or tablet—gone too.” I turned to the side, ready to exfil and hunt down her suitcase.
“I really didn’t do this to myself, did I?” she whispered as if that’d ever been a possibility and it had finally hit her that she was innocent.
She lost hold of the silk while stumbling backward, sending me forward yet again to keep her shirt and my shit together.
By the grace of God, I got to her in time before I got another eyeful of her gorgeous body. “What are you talking about?”
“I, um.” Her lip slipped between her teeth. She was acting like a lost sheep, scared and alone, waiting to be rescued.
“How about I get your clothes first, then we talk after that?” I suggested, painfully aware of how close we were standing and also how it might look to anyone who walked in with me clinging to her shirt for dear life.
I closed my eyes, let go of her top, then turned for the door. “Be right back. Don’t move.” I hightailed it from the bedroom and made my way downstairs to the bag still in the hall where I’d left it.
Back to her room fast, grateful for no awkward bump-ins, I hurried and closed the doors behind me, only to go dead still when facing her.
Her back was to me, but her shirt and bra were on the bed. Her low-rise jeans were snug on her hips, showing off her narrow waist and tight body.
I cleared my throat, signaling I was there, since the closing of the doors hadn’t alerted her. She had to be lost in her own world.
“Can you bring it to the bathroom? I’ll change in there.”
“Good idea.” I went in and out fast, ready to get this over with. “All set,” I announced, shutting my eyes to keep my sanity.
“Never seen a naked woman before?” A feminine huskiness slipped past her anxiety as she spoke.
And you’re still with us. “No comment,” I grumbled, catching a whiff of her as she approached. A different perfume than I was used to. More flowery, and probably her mom’s.
I didn’t open my eyes until I heard the door click shut. Didn’t breathe until then, either. I went over to the window she’d watched me from earlier and propped my hand on the wall by it.
There were two security guards roaming the property while a gardener worked nearby. Quite the contrast. Rifles and flowers.
At the sound of the door opening, my back muscles flexed. “Decent?”
“Yes, and I’d apologize for not being myself, but then we’d just be beating a dead horse—and wow, I hate that expression. Remind me never to use it again.”
“Noted.” And why was I smiling? I dragged my free hand across my mouth, not ready to turn around. “So, back to what you were saying.”
“About me joining you in Charleston?”
“Not happening.” I faced her, finding her in black jeans and a fitted black tank top.
She only needed her hair in a French braid like normal and to be in combat boots instead of flats, and she’d look like herself.
I wasn’t used to seeing her hair down around her shoulders like this, and the urge to tangle my fingers in it was pissing me off.
“I was talking about the ‘you really didn’t do this to yourself’ part. ” I even pulled out air quotes.
“Ah, that, yeah.” She stared at my arm, the one that still held evidence she’d sunk her nails into my skin.
“I was searching for my great-grandfather’s book.
Inside it were formulas. One of them, well .
. . was designed to wipe our memories. He created it during the Cold War in case there was a need to protect secrets. ”
I tried to digest what she’d rushed out as if it were a completely normal conversation to have.
“I was trying to find that book for that specific drug, a drug that was never actually tested out, though.”
What in the world? “You’re saying your family had a drug that can do to you what happened to you?”
“I’m saying we did have it. The library-vault the book was allegedly stored in was burned down in 1992, but I told Julian I believed the book wasn’t there at the time of the fire.
” She quickly added more details involving the vault and book, finishing with, “But I’m proof such a drug is real, aren’t I? ”
I didn’t know what to think. “Why didn’t Julian bring this up before now? It’s kind of important.”
“He said I asked him about it two-ish months ago, but he forgot all about it. Plus, he’s been busy and distracted with something.” She lifted a shoulder, a touch of defeat in her eyes.
She went to one of the two dressers in the room and rested her hands on it, bowing her head.
“All I know is that I can’t be here right now. Julian’s not telling me something about that book, and I think it’s because Gideon doesn’t want him to. Apparently, I didn’t even want Gideon to know I was searching for it. Talk about a red flag.”
What the hell?
“So nope, I don’t trust anyone here. Why stay? Plus, I only feel safe with you.”
Why’d I feel familiar to her when no one else did?
She pushed off the dresser and turned to face me. “I can’t do this without you. If they make you leave and I have to stay here? I’m doomed. I can feel it in my gut.”
“Hollis.” That was the best defense I had. A real winner, I know.
“You’re working this case even if they kick you out, yeah?”
I kept my distance, not trusting myself to be closer to her, and nodded.
“Wouldn’t you rather be near me while you figure things out?”
“Of course.” Shit, that came out far too fast.
“Good. It’s settled.”
What did I just walk into? Right, an ambush. “You can’t stay with Audrey. She’s pregnant and has a nine-year-old at home. You don’t want to endanger them.”
“She’s pregnant?” Her eyes widened. “Well then.” She massaged her chest with the heel of her hand. “Then what about staying with one of your other teammates?”
I gave her the reasons why it wouldn’t work for Ryder and Trevor, and that left us with one option, and something told me she knew we’d land there eventually.
Well played. But also, no damn way would she be staying with me.
The fragile life I’d barely kept together for five years, nine months, and some change would collapse with her under my roof. Each piece would crash into a single, irreparable mess. All that hard work . . . gone in a flash.
“No, it’s not possible. I’m sorry. I have no clue why you feel the way you do around me, but you can’t bunk with me.”
“Not with you with you.” Her hand skated around to the back of her neck. “Spare bedroom?”
“Yes, I have one. No, you can’t sleep in it.” A hotel, maybe? Safe house, more than likely, if I were ever to agree. But my place? Absolutely not.
She had the audacity to close the space between us and touch me again, and my body had the audacity not to stop her this time.
Her fingers curled into my biceps, and she lightly squeezed her plea straight into my muscles.
“Hollis.” Her name cracked from my lips like a broken sound yet again, regret buried tight into the two syllables, because I could see the future, and I was going to give in to her.
And if she stayed with me—I knew myself, I’d screw up.
I could barely be alone with her here, and we had her family and their arsenal down the hall.
What would happen if she wandered into my bedroom at night and asked me to hold her hand again, and it turned into more?
“I need answers, and I’m worried my family won’t just lie to your team, but to me, too.
Looks like they already are. My mother, for sure.
Now my brothers.” She visibly shivered. “Who needs a physical vault when they seem to be one.” She licked her lips, immediately drawing my eyes to her mouth.
“My gut says that the book is the key to everything. How could it not be? From the sounds of it, someone beat me to finding it and they used the drug on me.”
“Your brother say why you were looking for the drug in the first place?” If we could believe anything he said.
“While the drug is only supposed to work on our bloodline, I was hoping to use it on someone else. Well, to reverse engineer the formula so someone could get back their memories, not lose them.”
My body went cold, and I set my hands on her wrists, ready to back away, because no . . . No, it’s not possible.
“What’s wrong?” she whispered as I released her, my stomach free-falling.
I didn’t have a chance to answer because both doors flew open, and Catalina blew in like a storm, announcing, “You’re not leaving.” She pointed at me. “But your team is. President Bennett should be calling with marching orders any minute.”
Hollis stood in front of me like a shield, not that I needed one. “If Jason leaves, I leave.” She glanced back at me, hitting me with an apologetic look, then quietly added, “I mean Reed. If he leaves, so do I.”
“You’re choosing him over us?” The rage from her mother may have been concealed, but I could see a crack in her armor. A small one, but it was there.
But also, did I actually agree to her leaving with me?
“Yes, I’m sorry. While I don’t think I did this to myself, it’s clear that—”
“Of course someone betrayed you, and no, you didn’t do this to yourself. And this has nothing to do with that bloody book, so just drop that nonsense,” she cut in.
I couldn’t help but align myself alongside Hollis, offering her my support even if I was still confused over how I wound up in this position. Was I going to let her stay with me in Charleston? Shit.
“You don’t even want me here, do you? You want your daughter back, and at the moment, I’m not her.” Her voice broke. “And if what happened to me is because of that book—”
“You have got to be kidding me.” Catalina scoffed and looked up at the ceiling as if yelling at someone in her head. “So help me . . . my father and his love for telling stories.” She lowered her gaze to Hollis. “Everything was destroyed in that fire. Nothing survived.”
“But he may have—”
“No, he didn’t.” She wouldn’t even hear her daughter out. “Just. Let. It. Go.”
All I could hear and see were red flags whipping in the wind at her remark.
Hollis stepped forward, not backing down. “You really think someone else created a drug just like the one in that book and used it on me? It’s some big coincidence?”
“I do,” her mother quickly responded, her tone tight. “Now, drop it.”
No chance would Hollis let anything go. I knew that part of her was still there, even if she didn’t remember herself.
“Just tell me one thing.” Hollis eased her volume down slightly.
“Did Tristan know about the library? The book?” There was no question who was facing off with her mother right now.
The woman with a steel spine who could kill a guy with a broken champagne flute.
“He knows about our trackers. He was at Julian’s place last month and could’ve stolen the source code.
So . . . what about the formulas in that particular book? ”
“Yes,” Catalina said through barely parted lips. “Because your grandfather is the one who raised Tristan in secret as his adopted son until he was eighteen, since I couldn’t.”