As I twisted the cookies apart and ate the creamy filling, I focused on what I knew as I waited for Rhett.

The things I thought were true, weren’t. Which made me an idiot for not digging deeper into Carlos’s background from the beginning. But he’d given me no reason to. A fellow tech-lover, he’d talked about rebelling against his family’s expectations when he’d gone to Berkeley and graduated a few years before me.

It hadn’t occurred to me that I should have checked his records to make sure he’d really gone there. Brace for the spoiler—he hadn’t. No, Carlos had had an education of a very different sort.

Part of me hated getting Rhett involved in this, especially if it put him in danger, but I didn’t see that I had any choice in the matter. Besides, if they touched a single hair on his head, I would use every skill and resource I had to burn them to the ground.

I wouldn’t let Rhett suffer for my bad judgment.

I wouldn’t.

40

Rhett

The ride in the patrol car to the hospital kept playing through my head as I hauled ass to Ari’s place, my knuckles white as I clutched the steering wheel. When I finally pulled up to the gate, I punched in the code and my vision turned red at the sight of Carver washing the car in the driveway. I wanted to rip into him for whatever had Ari spooked and locked in a goddamned panic room, but she’d obviously made the decision not to tell him, so I did the same.

He gave me a nod as I jumped out of the Jeep. “She knows you’re coming? She’s been quiet all day. I’ve been staying out of her way.”

“She asked me to come by. We’d appreciate some privacy.”

He schooled his reaction, but I knew what he was thinking. He’s here to get some.

No, motherfucker, I was here to handle whatever scared her enough to go into lock-down mode.

I jogged up to the front door, closing and locking it behind me before charging toward the master suite closet. I had no frigging clue where the panic room door was as I scanned the mostly empty white racks and shelves. I’d just found my way out of a maze at Mount’s place, and now I was faced with another hidden entrance.

Turning toward a shelf, I pushed on the side, hoping something would move but knowing it was a long shot. When it didn’t budge, I pulled my phone from my pocket and tapped her number.

“I’m here.”

“Oh, good. Hold on, let me hit the lock.”

“I don’t see a damned door or where it’s hidden.”

“Give me a second. Wait, should I have you answer a question first? To make sure you’re not being held at gunpoint or something?”

“Ari . . .” My patience was wearing thin, but her tone had lost a little of the fear from earlier, which reassured me.

“Who was your favorite comic book hero?”

Why did this question not surprise me? “Superman.”

“Because you wanted to save the world and everyone in it, right?”

“Open the damn door, Ari.”

“Okeydoke.”

I ended the call as soon as the shelf I’d tried to push out of the way started moving. Fucking hidden doors.

As soon as the opening was wide enough, I saw Ari’s deep red hair and I charged toward her, wrapping her in my arms. She reached out and slapped a button, and the door slid closed behind me.

“You scared the shit out of me, Red.” As much as I wanted to demand an explanation right then, there was something else I needed more. I cradled both sides of her face in my hands and crushed my mouth against hers, letting my tongue sweep inside.

When I finally pulled back, I checked her for injuries, my hands roaming her bikini-clad body. She stood motionless and let me.

“I told you I was okay.”

“And I need to make sure for myself.”

Her gray gaze met mine, and I asked the question that was burning on my tongue. “What the hell happened?”

Her expression changed in a single moment, all lightness leaving it. She swallowed as though she didn’t want to tell me, but dug up the courage to do it anyway. “I fucked up. Big time.”

My first thought was that she’d hacked the NSA, and Feds were going to be bearing down any minute.

“Tell me. Everything.” From my tone, I was pretty sure she got that I was seconds away from shaking the answer out of her.

After she took a deep breath, she dropped a bomb. “I think I’m the reason your dad was killed.”

41

Ariel

Deep breaths. I can tell him without losing it. I can.

“My boyfriend—”

“Ex-boyfriend,” Rhett said, correcting me, and I nodded.

“Ex-boyfriend. Carlos Herrera is really Carlos Alberto Moreno Herrera.” Rhett showed no sign of recognition at the name, so I continued. “He’s essentially the crown prince of one of Mexico’s deadliest drug cartels.”

Rhett stilled, every muscle in his body tense and ready to spring into action. “You had no idea?”

I shook my head. “No clue. Until now, when he started displaying latent possessive tendencies.”

His eyes narrowed. “Tell me what the hell you mean by that? Break it down in simple terms.”

Sucking in another deep breath, I braced myself to tell him the truth. “He thinks he owns me.”

Rhett’s hands curled into fists. “No man fucking owns you. And he will never touch you again, I swear it.”

“I know, but he seems to have other ideas. He sent his goon here to threaten me when I didn’t use the plane ticket he sent me yesterday to go home to California.”

Rhett’s expression darkened to something deadly. “Someone came here? Threatened you? In person? And you didn’t think you should tell me that on the goddamned phone?”

I explained about the cameras and the missing footage, and my concern about my phone being tapped.

“The resources they have are insane. I don’t know who we can trust, and I wasn’t taking a chance. They said if I told anyone, they’d die. I’m not risking you. He sent a second plane ticket. Told me I’d better use it this afternoon—”

Rhett took two steps forward. Instinctively, I stepped back, my knees dropping out from under me as I hit the edge of the bed.