Follow Me Always (Follow Me 3)

“Just waiting. Like you are.”

“I prefer to wait upstairs.” I walk back into the elevator and slide my card. “If you’ll excuse me.”

Again, the doors close, but again, the elevator stays still. What the hell?

I push the open button once more.

Peter and Beau still stand in front of the elevator doors. Did they have something to do with this?

“Something wrong?” Beau asks.

His tone is telling—icy with a sardonic edge. He knows exactly what’s wrong with the elevator.

“What do you think you’re doing?” I demand. “What did you do to the elevator?”

“Funny thing, being an architect,” Beau says. “We have to understand building structure, how elevators work. All that kind of stuff. Things that don’t concern most people.”

“Braden has security cameras all around here,” I say. “Whatever you’re trying to do, you won’t get away with it.”

“We understand security, too,” Peter offers. “Once you know where the cameras are, they’re easily disabled.”

I look toward the door of the building. Is the limo still out there? I can make a run for it. These two are giving me the creeps.

“What do you want?” I ask.

“Just to talk.”

Icicles spear the back of my neck. Breathe, Skye. Breathe. Don’t show them you’re scared shitless.

“If that’s all you want, you have a phone. You’ve disabled Braden’s security and his elevator. What’s going on here?”

But knowledge edges its way into my frightened mind. I know full well why they’re here.

Braden was right.

Peter and Garrett gave Betsy and Tessa ketamine.

And they got it from Peter’s daddy.

“You’re not going to get away with this,” I say to them.

“Little lady, I’ve gotten away with a lot worse, as your boyfriend knows.”

“That’s why he wouldn’t give you the building contract,” I say, whipping my hand to my hips. “He knows you play dirty.”

“And he doesn’t?” Beau shakes his head.

“No, he doesn’t,” I say.

“Maybe you’d like to know who financed his way to the top,” Peter says.

Damn. They know. But how? There was an NDA. Except…Addie didn’t hold up her part of the bargain. If she continued stalking Braden—in fact, is stalking him still—she may well have divulged the information about the settlement.

“He financed his company himself.”

It’s not an untruth. It was Braden’s money, as I told him earlier. It was opportunity knocking. It was money for his cooperation and silence.

“There’s a lot you don’t know,” Beau says.

Fine. Let them think I don’t know. It only puts me in a stronger position. I won’t give away the farm.

“Really?” I say. “And I suppose you’re going to enlighten me?”

“We’d be happy to,” Beau says, “but there isn’t time.”

“Why not? Braden’s not here yet. Seems we have time after all.” I stride into the lobby, hoping I look less nervous than I feel. I take a seat on one of the leather wingbacks. “Care to join me, gentlemen?”

My heart is beating rapid-fire, and my mouth is dry. Still, I resist swallowing and licking my lips. I don’t want them to know how they’re affecting me.

I have no idea what I’m getting into. If they routinely drug women, they could be capable of anything. They could have guns.

My skin chills. I feel like a giant ice cube.

They each take a seat on the couch opposite me. Great. I’m right in their firing range.

I need to get a grip.

Braden, where are you?

Why didn’t I text him while I was in the elevator?

“Your boyfriend is up to no good,” Beau says.

“If you mean he’s going to stop you people from drugging women, then I’d say he’s up to a lot of good.”

Peter’s ears redden around the edge. Oh, he’s trying to look calm and collected like his father, but I got to him.

“Those are unfounded accusations,” Beau says.

“Interesting. Your friend Garrett drugged Tessa, and I’d be willing to bet you did the same thing to Betsy, Peter.”

“More unfounded accusations,” Beau says. “Your friend has a history of drug use.”

“She’s used drugs one time.”

Crap. I wish I hadn’t said that. I don’t need to give them information.

“The allegations against Garrett and my son are fabricated,” Beau says, his mouth a straight line.

The man is ice cold. Does anything rattle him?

“Are they? Because I’m pretty sure my friend was drugged.”

“That’s what she tells you, anyway,” Beau says.

“I’m done talking.” I grab my phone to text Braden.

Then I drop my jaw nearly to the floor.

Braden walks through the door swiftly, sailing past the unmanned reception desk. He comes directly to me, takes my hand, and pulls me off the chair and into the protection of his body. “Are you okay, Skye?”

I nod. “Yes.” I will my voice not to shake.

“And I suppose there’s a good reason why my doorman isn’t at his post?” Braden eyes Beau and then Peter.

“He wasn’t there when we arrived,” Beau says.

“Nice try. I got a text from him after you threatened him. Knowing Skye would be home soon, I cut my meeting short.”