Chapter 32
Dmitri
This morning feels cursed.
I thought things were going to start off great when I finally woke up to Cara naked in my bed. I should’ve known that wouldn’t last.
Enemies threaten me on all sides, and I can barely think straight enough to figure out how to handle them. Retaliation is always risky. Doing nothing sends a message to others that we can be fucked with and won’t fight back.
I’m stuck right on the edge of a goddamn cliff, where one wrong move can make everything worse.
Tension forms between my temples as I park my car outside of Cara’s apartment building. I shut off the engine and get out, reaching up to rub the ache. It doesn’t fade in the slightest.
They’ll pay for this. Every last one of them.
“I’ll walk you up,” I tell her as I grab her overnight bag and duffle before meeting her on the sidewalk.
Cara tenses. “You don’t have to come up.”
“Why wouldn’t I?” I ask her.
Cara doesn’t say anything at first before giving me a sheepish smile. “My place is just kind of messy.”
“I’m sure it’s fine,” I reply before motioning for her to lead the way.
Part of me wants to be alone so that I can process everything in peace, but another part of me doesn’t want to be away from her. She helps me relax and think clearly, but she’s been eerily quiet since the bad news came this morning.
“This way,” Cara replies before taking me inside and up to her floor. She glances at me before stopping in front of her unit and fiddling with her key ring to find the right one.
“Oh! Wait, dear!”
Both Cara and I freeze as an older woman down the hall waves her hand and hurries in our direction.
“Hi,” Cara replies awkwardly, her eyes briefly flickering to mine.
The older woman stops in front of us and smiles, placing her hand against her chest as she catches her breath. “I’m Edith. I live down the hallway, and I just wanted to welcome you since you’re new!”
Cara’s shoulders grow rigid. “Oh, thank you. That’s so kind. I’ve been here a while, though,” she says too quickly.
The older woman tilts her head. “Oh, well, I knew the couple who lived in your unit before. You’ve barely been here a month! I hope you’re liking it.”
A month.
She told me in her interview that she’d been here longer.
Cara smiles stiffly. “It’s very nice here.”
“And who is this? Your boyfriend?” the older woman asks as she turns to me with an intrigued smile on her face.
“My boss,” Cara blurts out before snapping her mouth shut.
The older woman’s expression wavers in confusion for a moment, but her smile remains. “How…nice. Oh, well, I just wanted to say hello. If you need anything, I’m just down the hall on the left!”
“Thank you,” Cara tells her before turning back to her door and quickly opening it. She heads inside, not wasting a second.
“You just moved here?” I ask her as I follow her and shut the door behind me.
“I didn’t officially move here from Boston until I got the job,” Cara explains.
That makes sense. I nod and gesture to her bag, now filled with cash. “Where do you want me to put this?”
“The bedroom is fine,” Cara says as she motions for me to follow her into a nearby room. “Sorry for the mess.”
I glance around the apartment, noting how clean and simple it looks. There are barely any decorations anywhere. No pictures. No books. No random items for a unique hobby or interest.
Just the basic, necessary furniture. It looks staged.
I thought she would be the type to decorate and coordinate by color and theme, but it doesn’t seem to be that way at all. It’s actually pretty bland, which is surprising.
Then again, if she’s only been here for about the same amount of time that she’s been working with me, there hasn’t been much time to make this place feel more like a home than an apartment.
I set her bag down on her bed, my eyes trailing around her small bedroom. A dresser. A nightstand. A walk-in closet. A window.
Not even a lamp? A candle? Something that tells me something about her?
“Is something wrong?” Cara asks.
I turn to face her, seeing a nervous expression on her face. “No. My head just hurts.”
“I’ll go get you a Tylenol,” Cara offers, leaving the room before I can tell her not to worry about it.
I consider following her out, but my curiosity and lingering confusion make me remain frozen in place as I inspect the room. Something about it doesn’t fit her.
My eyes shift to the drawer of her nightstand, which is slightly cracked open. I walk over and glance through the small open space, slide the drawer open wider to peek at what’s inside.
The first few things that I spot are a tube of strawberry ChapStick and a phone charger. There’s also a box cutter tucked in the corner. Not too odd. A temporary weapon. Like the rest of this place.
I push a few other normal items aside before pausing at the sight of a passport in the back of the drawer. I grab it and open it, seeing her picture staring back at me. Her hair is even longer in the photo, the color is more reddish-gold than brown.
How long ago was this taken?
My eyes shift down to the information listed, and my heart stops.
Her passport doesn’t list Cara Reynolds as her legal name. It says Cara Cahill.
My pulse comes back with a vengeance, pounding heavily in my head as I stare at the name. At the woman in the photograph.
She lied to me.
She lied on her resume, her application. And she’s been lying so long that Cara Reynolds had a decent background record.
“Here’s some Tylenol.”
Her voice sounds like it’s miles away, my ears threatening to ring. What the fuck is going on?
I turn around to face her, still holding her passport in my hand.
The second Cara sees it, her face pales. The small pills slip from her fingertips and clatter on the floor by her feet. “What are you doing?”
I tap my finger against her name. “Explain this, Ms. Cahill. What the fuck, Cara?”
She breathes in deeply, her fingers flexing as she tries to keep her hands from shaking. “I can explain.”
I let out a cold laugh, fury flaring within my chest so damn strong that it aches. After all the shit that I’ve already been through today, is she now going to stab me in the back too? “Oh, really? Let’s hear it.”
Cara swallows hard before hardening her expression. “I had to change my name.”
“Why?” I question her as I step toward her.
She doesn’t flinch or tense. She holds my gaze, letting me approach her. “It’ll only be a matter of time before my ex-boyfriend gets out of prison. We…we didn’t break up on good terms, and for my safety, it would be for the best if he can’t find me when he got out.”
“He’s that dangerous? Your idiot drug dealer ex-boyfriend?” I reply, narrowing my eyes in suspicion.
Cara lowers her eyes. “You don’t understand how angry he would get about everything. Everything! He threatened me. He thought I was part of the reason why he got caught by the police. Do you really think he would show up at my doorstep with roses when he’s released?”
I eye her, teetering between believing her and not. I want to trust her because I don’t want to suspect the worst, but I’m not stupid. Anyone can lie about anything. She’s not exempt from that.
“What’s his name?” I ask, needing to know more about the idiot from her past.
She shakes her head, refusing to tell me, as if she’s protecting him. That only makes me angrier.
“You could’ve said something to me about this before now,” I tell her.
“I was scared,” Cara says as a look of guilt crosses her face.
“Scared of what?” I reply in a sharp tone.
Cara moves toward me, making me tense up.
I don’t know what she’s capable of if one little lie can come so easily to her.
“Ruining your trust in me. I worked hard to prove myself to you. To show you that I was someone you could rely on no matter what. I didn’t want my past getting in the way of that.
I’ve been doing everything that I can to distance myself from it.
A new name. A new apartment in a new city. A new job.”
Slowly, my muscles relax as my eyes search her face, looking for signs of lying and deception. A twitch of her lips. A shifting of her eyes.
But all I see on her face is guilt and fear.
“My fucking world is crumbling all around me,” I tell her, my chest tightening. “I don’t have room in my life for a liar.”
“I won’t lie to you again,” Cara says as she takes another step closer. “It doesn’t matter what my name is, Dmitri. I’m still the person you can trust.”
I hold her gaze, my heart racing. I’m still wary, but I think she’s being honest with me. At least, I hope. “You’ve been going by Cara Reynolds for years now?”
“Yes,” she replies. “That’s who I am now that the past is behind me.”
I take a deep breath and exhale slowly. “Okay, Cara. I’ll trust you.”
Mostly. But not all the way.
I can’t do that for anyone.
Besides, how much can I actually trust a woman I paid $100,000 to have sex with for the first time last night?
I was so certain Cara cared about me, that she wasn’t a gold-digger like Annika, but I never gave Annika a dime of my money.
Cara’s face softens a fraction. “Thank you. And just so you know…I feel safe with you. I never felt that with him.”
My racing heart wavers for a second. I do want her to feel safe around me, but am I safe around her?
Even if she lied to protect herself for a good reason, it’s still a lie. It makes me wonder what else she might be hiding from me, and that’s not a comforting thought.
“I should go. I need to talk to Gabe’s family,” I tell her as I pocket her passport rather than give it back. All those background checks will have to be redone now. I just hope they come back the same.
Cara frowns a little at the move, but she nods in understanding.
“See you at the office on Monday?” I ask.
There’s the briefest second of hesitation before she nods. “Of course.”
“I’m putting a few guys on your building, for your protection.
” I do want to protect her. But now that she’s got a bag full of my money, I don’t want her trying to leave town.
She certainly won’t be able to leave the country since I’m keeping hold of her passport.
“Don’t leave here without them,” I warn her.
“I won’t,” she agrees.
My gaze lingers on her for a moment before I walk past her, my shoulders feeling heavier and heavier with each step I take.
This morning when I woke up, I wasn’t alone.
Now I am.