Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
EVERS
"What do we do with him now?" Summer asked, glancing at her father in the rearview mirror. He sat in the back, leaning against the door, staring out of the window and ignoring us.
Fine with me. Just because I'd gotten him out of the safe room didn't mean I was on his side. Far from it.
"I don't know," I said. "We could take him back to his place. He's got a lot of cleaning up to do. Might as well get started."
At that, Smokey came to life. "No way, man, you can't just drop me off and get rid of me."
"Why not?" Summer asked. She'd begged for her father's life, but she still stared at him as if he were a stranger. In a way, he was.
She had a mental image of Smokey as a ne'er-do-well stoner.
I didn't have to imagine her shock at finding out he was anything but.
I knew exactly how she felt. I'd been there. I'd grown up thinking my dad was a hero. He kept people safe. Rescued them from danger. He was one of the good guys. Tough, sure. Kind of a jerk to my mom, yeah.
With the blind love of a child, I'd worshiped the good and brushed aside the bad. Even as I'd gotten older and his praise felt hollow, his casual cruelties more distinct, he was my father. A tarnished hero, but still high on that pedestal.
When it all came crashing down, when we'd realized who he really was, the past had come into focus. Maxwell Sinclair was no hero. Expecting us to live up to his bullshit ideals, treating my mother like crap, and turning into a criminal when he was bored with a normal life.
Success, wealth, and a family who loved him hadn't been enough. He had to have more. Always more.
I thought of Hugh Winters. Aiden's dad had been like a second father growing up. Hugh was a hero. He loved his kids, worshipped his wife. Worked hard and still managed to make every game, every recital. He never cut corners. Never failed to tell his kids he was proud of them.
Hugh had deserved his pedestal.
My father was a fraud.
On the surface, Smokey was a hippie stoner, while my father had country club written all over him, but under the skin, they weren't that different. Corrupt and greedy. Selfish.
I knew exactly how much it hurt to learn that the person who was supposed to look out for you had only been looking out for themselves.
I reached across the seat and took Summer's hand. She squeezed my fingers and stared out the window.
Finally, quietly, she said, "I think we should drop Smokey off at his house."
"Summer! What the hell? I'm your father, for Christ's sake. You can't just throw me to the wolves. You guys saw what they did to my place. What do you think would have happened if I'd been there? There's a reason I was hiding out with Warren, you know."
"And now you expect us to clean up your mess?" she challenged, her eyes tired.
"There's nothing to clean up. I just need a safe place to stay for a while. Cynthia said I could stay at the castle. It's her house. She said—"
"She only said you could stay as a favor to me," Summer cut in. "And I don't want you there. I can barely look at you right now."
Summer's words sank in. For the first time since I'd pulled him out of the safe room, panic worked its way into Smokey's consciousness. Talking fast, he said, "Just for a few days, Summer. I'll figure something else out. Just for a few days. I'll stay in my room, I swear. I won't be any trouble."
Summer looked over at me, one eyebrow raised.
Shit.
I wanted to say fuck, no.
I wanted to slow down at the curb in front of his house and shove him out of the SUV. I wanted him out of Summer's life. Out of my life.
We'd get there eventually. Another day or two wouldn't change anything.
Ignoring Smokey, I said to Summer, "It's up to you."
Summer tilted her head back and closed her eyes. After a long moment, she said, "Three days. That's it. Three days and either you leave on your own or I'll have security dump you outside the gates. If you try to get back in, I'll call the police."
Smokey pressed his lips together and said nothing. I already knew he wouldn't bother to thank her. Odds were an insult hovered on the tip of his tongue. I hoped he'd be smart enough to keep his mouth shut. He was. Barely.
When we got back to Rycroft, Smokey slammed out of the SUV and headed straight to his room. If he wanted to hide out up there, it was fine with me. The longer I went without seeing his face the better I'd feel.
Exhausted from the early wake-up and everything that had happened since, Summer and I needed food. It felt like an entire day had passed since we'd left Rycroft, but breakfast was still being served in the dining room.
Tired to my bones, I wanted nothing more than to pack Summer up and take off.
Go somewhere we could be alone. Somewhere we could leave this mess behind.
So many options. Hell, we could be in Vegas in a few hours.
Get a suite at the Delecta, and then I could show Summer what a good strip club was really like.
Already imagining the way her blush would spread down her neck and across her luscious cleavage, I was distracted when Cynthia said my name.
Fuck. Get your head on the job, Evers. "Sorry what?"
"Where did you two go so early? Is everything okay" Cynthia's worried glance took in Summer and myself.
"There was a problem with my mom. She's all right, but we thought Smokey might know something. We brought him into the office to find out."
"Did he?"
"No," I answered.
"And your mom's okay?"
"She is. Axel's in Florida with her. He's taking her to Vegas, but if we don't wrap this up soon, we might have to bring her to Atlanta."
"If I recall, your mother hates Atlanta," Cynthia said with a small smile.
"She wouldn't be happy," I agreed, "but we'll do what we have to do."
"If you want Smokey to leave," Summer offered, "he will. This is all a little more complicated than we anticipated. You shouldn't have to deal with any of it."
"Summer, honey, Evers and his guys have this place so locked down no one is getting in or out without them knowing. Seems like the safest place to keep him is here. Right?"
"It is," I agreed, "but this is your show. It's your house, and we're your team. You call the shots. If you want us to move him somewhere else, consider it done. We appreciate your patience—"
"—but we don't want to take advantage," Summer finished.
Cynthia's phone chirped with a text. She dropped her eyes to the screen, brow furrowed. As if we hadn't been in the middle of a conversation, she picked up the phone and tapped to text back.
"Cynthia?" I prompted.
She looked up, biting her lip, one eyebrow raised. "Oh, no, it's fine. Smokey can stay. Don't worry about it."
Summer watched her employer, eyes narrowed. "Who are you texting?"
I was surprised at her tone. She was usually deferential to Cynthia. A smart move considering that Cynthia was used to the world fawning over her. She did not enjoy being challenged.
For once, Summer didn't seem to care. Cynthia turned her phone upside down and shoved it half under the side of her plate. "Nobody. Nobody you need to worry about. It's nothing."
For an Oscar-winning actress, she'd suddenly turned into a terrible liar. Summer appeared to agree. "Bullshit. Who are you texting?" When Cynthia opened her mouth to dismiss Summer's question again, Summer leaned forward and said, "Don't make me come over there."
Cynthia sighed. "Clint, okay? I've been texting with Clint."
"Is he trying to set up a meet?" I asked. Cynthia had been putting him off since the party. He had to be getting impatient. He hadn't attempted to get through the gates again, but eventually, he would.
"No. Well, yes, but he's trying to convince me that all the rumors are just rumors. That there was nothing going on in that picture with the girl, that he hasn't touched a drop of alcohol or anything since he left rehab. He said someone is spreading lies. Trying to drive us apart."
"And you believe him?" Summer asked.
Summer knew Clint Perry, had known him when he and Cynthia were happy together. Until he'd started drinking and cheating on Cynthia, she'd liked him.
Cynthia's shoulders slumped. She rubbed her thumb along the rim of her coffee cup, staring at the dregs staining the white china.
"I've believed him so many times. I'm tired of feeling like a fool. But when I talk to him—"
"He's been calling, too?"
Cynthia shot Summer a quelling look. Summer dropped it. She knew her limits.
"When I talk to him," Cynthia continued, her words wistful and sad, "he doesn't sound like he's lying. I don't know. I don't know what to do." She looked at me, entreating, "Can you find out if someone's spreading these rumors? If it's true?"
I was torn. Axel had an office in LA, and his team there knew the scene. Knew the players. Tracking down whoever was spreading these rumors—if they were rumors—wouldn't be too hard.
We're talking about celebrities, not super-spies.
If I was going to leave town for a few days, now was the time. Smokey wasn't going anywhere for seventy-two hours. My mother was safe, headed to Vegas with Axel. He had a lock on his city, and his place was a fortress. No one would get to her there.
We had Tsepov's unknown deadline bearing down on us. A deadline with no date to find an unidentified prize. The elder Tsepov, the one Emma had shot, never would have been so sloppy.
If the Russian actually wanted us to find what my father took, he might have told us what it was. And when he wanted it.
Fucking amateur.
That didn't mean he didn't have an army at his disposal. An amateur heading an army was more dangerous than a professional. We could have negotiated with his uncle. Worked something out. This guy—this guy was all bravado and ego. There was no negotiating with someone like him.
He was dangerous, but not so much that we had to hide in the castle until we neutralized him. I wouldn't let him cage us with his open-ended deadline.
On the other hand, Cynthia's planned visits with family and friends, the visits the party was supposed to spark, had never happened. With Clint lurking around, she'd stayed close to home. Isolated.
She'd come to Atlanta for peace, but the Cynthia I knew was social. If she resolved things with Clint once and for all, maybe she'd feel free to live her life again.
"This isn't the best time to leave town," I hedged.
Cynthia, sensing an opportunity, gave me a pleading look that would have been affecting if it weren't so practiced. "Evers, it would mean the world to me if you could do this. Really. The world."
"Define the world," I countered.
The sweetly pleading look melted away. Deadly serious, Cynthia said, "It means that if you can give me an answer, one way or another, I'll pay the original fee despite all of these interruptions in service."
Well, damn. She really wanted to know if Clint was telling the truth. After the break-in at the party and our trip to North Carolina, she'd negotiated me into taking a bath on the job. Going back to the contract price was a big swing.
We'd originally been on track to make a sweet profit. You don't get to be the premier security agency in the country by ignoring business. This job had gone sideways, but if a quick day or two in L.A. could salvage it from a red line item back to black it would be worth it.
Summer watched me with hopeful eyes. I didn't need to ask what she wanted me to do. I did anyway. "Are you okay if I go to L.A. for a few days?"
Below the tablecloth, she slid her hand up my leg, her pinky grazing my cock. "I'll miss you, but if you can find out what's going on with Clint it really would mean a lot."
My body at attention, I leaned over and pressed a kiss to her cheek. "Thanks," I said softly, my lips brushing her smooth skin.
"You two are so sweet I have a toothache. You know you owe me, right?"
Summer rolled her eyes at Cynthia. "Maybe. But I still remember you kissing him, so…"
Cynthia cocked an eyebrow. "Well, you weren't kissing him, and it's a crime to let a man like that go un-kissed."
Beside me, Summer let out a harrumph. Shooting me a dark look, she said, "He didn't deserve to be kissed."
I didn't like where this conversation was going. I stopped her mouth with mine. When her cheeks were flushed and she'd forgotten why I didn't deserve her kisses, I picked up my fork and dug into breakfast. I filled my stomach while I went over logistics in my head.
"Let me call Axel, see who he can set me up with out there. I can't be gone long, but I should be able to find something out and come back in a few days."
"Thanks, Evers," Cynthia said, relief easing the tension in her eyes. She turned to Summer, going over some video she wanted to shoot for her social media. Summer pulled out her phone, taking notes with one hand while she ate with the other.
I was going to miss breakfasts at Rycroft Castle over the next few days. Plate clean, I stood, telling Cynthia, "I'll get Alice working on a flight. I'll let you know what's going on as soon as I'm done."