Three Dirty Secrets (Blindfold Club 4)

I’d regained consciousness in the ambulance and been admitted to the ER. I’d gone through a mental assessment, and just before they’d whisked me off for a CT scan, Shane appeared. He looked fucking awful, unshaven and torn up with worry.

Before he said anything, I asked him to call Silas.

I could barely look Shane in the eye. Once again, I’d thought I could handle the situation, and I’d failed spectacularly. My hubris was literally going to be the death of me. I gave him the best rundown of the events I could, and by the time my CT scan was over, I was desperate with questions. What had happened with Victor Bennett? Where was Marquis? Had Shane gotten hold of Silas, and if so, what had he told him?

I was carted back to the room where Shane sat perched on a chair, looking as worried as possible, his nose buried in his phone until he spotted me.

“Did you get hold of Silas?” I asked.

“I left a message. I said where you were and you’d asked me to call.”

That was good, I guessed. When Silas got the message, he’d assume Shane was a cop. “And Bennett? What’s happening with him?”

Shane hesitated. “He’s running, but don’t worry. We’ll get him.”

“He’s running? What the fuck?” My voice cracked on the profanity.

Shane stood and came to my bedside. “Everyone was so worried about you, they weren’t paying attention to the son of a bitch, and he got out of there before we got to the club. But I told you, we’ll get him. There’s a BOLO at all agencies. A guy like that? He’s not going to get far.”

“Marquis?”

“The same. How are you feeling?”

I stared down at the hospital gown covering my body. “I feel like shit. And like I should never work undercover again. What about the club?”

He was fixed on me. “That was interesting. Julius snatched up all the hard drives and won’t talk to us until there’s an immunity deal on the table. He found a lawyer awfully fast too, but turns out the guy’s Ms. McCreary’s brother.”

Shane accused me with his eyes and I didn’t bother to deny it. “She took her husband’s last name. It’s Payton Ward now.”

There was a sharp rap of knuckles on the glass of the sliding door just beyond the curtain on my room. “I’ve got a Silas Getty asking to come in,” the guard said.

“Yes,” I croaked with my raw throat. God, yes.

His enormous figure cleared the curtain, and I sighed with relief at the sight of him. But Silas froze in what appeared to be shock. He had to be taking in the bruises ringing my wrists and my bloodshot eyes.

“Regan? What the fuck happened?”

He crossed the room in two enormous strides, coming straight to me, but once he reached my bedside, it was clear he didn’t know if he should touch me or not. I grabbed his shoulders and pulled him into a hug.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” I whispered. Truer words had never been spoken.

“Jesus, what happened?”

Shane cleared his throat. “I’ll be out in the hall if you need me.”

Silas’s head snapped to Shane, as if unaware there’d been another man in the room, and watched my handler exit, curious. But his gaze returned to me and flooded with concern.

“A client strangled me,” I said in my gravelly voice, “but I’m okay.”

I saw the flash in those silver eyes. For the slimmest of moments, Silas thought about killing another person. “Where is he?”

I wasn’t going to lie, but I wanted to have my voice back before having the full conversation with him. “He got away, but the cops are looking for him.”

“Fuck, I was so worried about you. That message on my phone is brutal. You sure you’re okay?”

“The swelling’s gone down so I can breathe again. We’re just waiting on a clear CT because I lost consciousness.”

His hug was fierce, like he was worried he might lose me at any moment. “Oh my God.” He pulled back and looked at a loss for words. “There’s so many cops outside your room. They think this guy’s still a threat to you?”