Burned Hearts (Burned 3)

“Of a six-hundred-million-dollar catastrophe? Wayne Horton?”

Not to be deterred or undermined by his lack of confidence in my reasoning, I said, “Might I remind you that Asshole Horton hijacked the Lux Web site at the most crucial time, deactivated my access badge at the most crucial time, so I faced a diamondback with no escape, set fire to a media room I was trapped in, helped Vale kidnap me, destroyed the entire security system at the Lux—and, oh, let’s not forget that he was the one to devise the whole wouldn’t it be fun if Ari was stung by scorpions? campaign.” I stared unwaveringly at my friend. “Trust me, not so fun.”

Kyle clearly tried very hard to keep up with me but fell short. “We already know he’s a problem.”

“No, he is the root of all evil. And he’s not on anyone’s radar! That’s how fucking brilliant he is at covering his tracks.” Fear rippled down my spine, but I maintained my steady footing.

“So let’s sic Amano on him—he’ll find Horton,” Kyle assured me. “That lowlife piece of shit keeps coming back here, after all.”

“Since Vale’s dead, likely the reason for Wayne’s return would be because if he’s spotted in Vegas the hotel owners might want to have a dangerous word or two with him. Or … maybe his work here isn’t done.”

Kyle’s strong jaw set in a hard line. “That’s not exactly a comforting thought.”

“Tell me about it.” I snatched a fat, black marker and wrote Vegas on the wall.

He grimaced. “You are so playing with fire here, messing up the King of Everything’s walls.”

“We can repaint. I need to see all of this, mull it over.” I climbed onto the sofa and drew a curving arrow from Vegas to Wayne’s piece of paper. “There’s something about him being involved in that tower debacle that’s eating at me. Like, the guy knows too much. Has too much power for someone who worked at the Lux as a valet, grounds crew, gofer type.”

“Those roles did allow him to have access to all critical touch points at the resort.” Kyle offered his hand to me and helped me off the sofa.

“Exactly.” Returning the marker to the desk, I added, “Now, if only I could figure out who he really is and what he’s really up to—because it seems like it’s much more than just being Vale’s henchman. In fact, like Dane, I’m starting to think that maybe it was the other way around and Vale was the minion to Wayne’s master—” My mouth fell open as a slight tug occurred between my legs and then a splash hit the floor. And my shoes.

“Ari,” Kyle complained. “That’s gross.”

I glared at him, a hint of panic besieging me. “It’s not pee, Kyle. I think—” I shook my head. “No. I know my water just broke.”

“Your what?”

“Oh. Shit.” The panic morphed into full-blown horror. “I’m not at full term yet!”

While Kyle’s blue eyes turned as large as saucers, I felt a kick. Then another. Not contractions. I was certain I could discern the difference.

I wrapped my arms around my belly. “It’s like he’s on the move.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Kyle started his own freak-out. “You’re a month and half early, Ari.”

“No kidding. Call Macy.”

As he reached for the landline—designated for emergency purposes only—to phone his aunt, I shuffled to the doorway and yelled out for Rosa. She appeared almost instantly. “Water broke.” I indicated my shoes.

A hint of concern flitted over her face. Then she said in a matter-of-fact voice, “You could have an infection. Or you could be going into labor.”

A third swift kick had me saying in a strained tone, “Doesn’t feel like labor. More like he’s run out of room or something. Trying to stretch.”

Amano joined us, just as Kyle did.

Rosa said, “Dr. Preston might be able to stall the birth. I’ll pack your clothes.” Rosa rushed down the hallway.

“I’ll drive,” Amano said as he reached for his cell.

I grabbed his arm. “Don’t you dare call Dane!”

“Ari.” Amano gave me his warning look, reminding me of whom his loyalty ultimately rested with—my husband. For once, I was one step ahead of him. Maybe two.

“You’ll only worry Dane and make him completely crazed. Plus, this could be nothing. And, let’s face it—” I hated to do this, but I couldn’t have Dane tormented even more because he wasn’t here during a potential baby crisis. “You owe me.”

Amano glared at me, taken aback. I’d pushed the boundary with that one, but he clearly couldn’t dispute my logic. He’d been the one to rescue Dane from the explosion at the Lux—and had not told me that Dane had survived. For good reason, but still. Amano had perpetuated the lie that Dane was dead in order for him to work undercover with the FBI. Amano had known it’d ruin me, but he’d also seen the prime opportunity for what it was.