Cuffed by His Charm (Dirty Little Secrets 4)

“Mine.” I rub my arms chasing away the chill and add, “The last time I had to bail him out, he owed a lot of money to the wrong people. I paid that debt and we had a falli

ng out. But he always comes back and straightens up.” What if this is the one time his luck runs out?

Gabe is unusually quiet. Something Ryder seems to notice, too, since he turns to Gabe, sighs, and frowns at his friend. “Things are much more complicated than we originally thought. What do you want to do here?”

Do you want to help her find her brother or do we leave this alone? is what he isn’t saying.

Gabe runs a hand through his hair, eyes on me. I can tell deep down he wants nothing to do with Evan, and for that I don’t blame him. Evan has caused chaos in so many lives of people that Gabe loves. I’d been so angry at Gabe earlier but now I feel only culpability when I stare at him. I did this. I wasn’t careful with my code that Gabe trusted me with.

Whatever he sees on my face makes him sigh, too. He turns to Ryder and replies, “I want to talk to Evan and that means we need to find him first. Do whatever you can to make that happen.”

I don’t watch or listen to their exchange. I focus on what’s in front of me, looking at all my brother’s things. Sure, he isn’t a saint. He’s never been. And yes, maybe he’s been a giant pain in my ass for most of my life. Regardless, I want to find him, too. My best chance to do that is the guys he’s burned, but I also know putting him into their hands isn’t protecting him either.

Conflicted and confused, I move toward my brother’s cellphone sitting on a coffee table covered in papers with Evan’s black ink drawings. That’s where life failed him. He’s a struggling talented artist, and his depression is what makes the gambling high so addictive. When I look at his cell, I’m even more convinced something is wrong. He’d never leave his phone behind. “No calls. No texts. Nothing,” I say to myself.

Ryder answers me anyway, “It’s likely been cleared.” He holds out his hand, and after I pass him the phone, he presses a few buttons. “Yeah, it’s been wiped clean.”

“That can’t be a good sign,” I say.

Ryder shakes his head, places the phone back onto the coffee table. “No, I’m afraid not.” He sighs again, obviously pondering, glancing around the room once more. “I’ll get Alex to run his phone number and we’ll see who the last person he talked to was. That could point us in a good direction.”

“What about looking into his bank records?” Gabe asks.

“Probably useless,” I interject. “My brother likes money. It’s an addiction, remember? He only uses cash. It’s the feel of it, the power. I’ve never seen him use a debit card.”

“Not good news for us, sadly,” Ryder says, stepping over papers on the floor as he heads toward the door. “But we’re not at a dead end yet. I’ll get Alex on this and see what she comes up with.”

My mind spins with my choices. Sure, Gabe and Ryder have decided they’re going to help me, but they never considered what I want. With my heart racing and fear drowning me, I need to find my brother, and I need to do that now with professional help.

I grab my phone from my pocket and press my finger against the 9 button, when Gabe asks with a frown, “What are you doing?”

I press 1. “I’m going to call the police so they can help me find my brother.”

“I can’t let you do that,” Gabe says, hastily striding forward and plucking the phone from my hand.

Hand still extended, I raise my eyebrows. “And why is that exactly?”

“Believe me, McKenna, I’m doing this to protect Evan, not hurt him. You’re emotional right now.” His eyes are soft, looking a lot like the Gabe I know. Gentle, sweet, all types of warm and charming. “We need to get a better understanding of what’s going on here before you involve the police. You say that your brother is often in trouble. Well, darlin’, bringing in the police might backfire entirely.”

“As if I care about that,” I retort, waving my hand. “Right now, the last thing I’m worried about is him getting arrested for gambling or whatever.”

Regardless of what I’ve said, Gabe tucks my phone into his pocket, then steps closer to me; those warm eyes of his are so easy to get lost in. I put up my guard, protecting the heart he’s already shattered once today. “I’m not concerned about Evan,” he says, voice soft. “I’m concerned that whoever did this”—he waves around the apartment—“will not be happy that we’ve involved the police. I’m concerned about you.”

My heart wants to tug a little. I force it not to. “Then what do you suggest we do?”

“I suggest we let Ryder do what Ryder and his team do best.” Gabe turns to Ryder, who’s watching us quietly and closely. “Your team can start on this?”

Ryder nods. “We’ve already started.”

The rest of what he says drifts away because I can’t even make sense out of what I’m feeling. It’s like I’m falling, drowning in a sea of all the things I can’t control. So much has happened in . . . what, a couple hours. So much has changed. Emotion tightens my throat, and I need to get away from it all and into some fresh air. I hear Gabe’s curse follow my quick exit. I run out the door and down the staircase, going as fast as I can toward the front door of the complex.

The second I reach outside, “McKenna, stop,” blasts through the air I desperately need to inhale.

I freeze on the sidewalk, staring at the cars whizzing by, my chest rising and falling quickly, my eyes struggling to stop the tears from spilling over.

“Look at me.”

When I don’t turn, Gabe adds, even softer now, “Please. Look at me.”