Wildcard: Volume Three

“Can you have her call me please? As soon as possible. It's imperative I speak to her. She can call me on 555-632-4141.”

“Sure,” I say. “I'll have her call you back as soon as she can.” I hesitate before adding, “Is she in trouble?”

“Not if she hasn't done anything wrong.”

I hang up the phone, unsure what to do next. I need to find Scarlett. I have no doubt that I’ll be in the shit, because it won't take much for the police to discover that I paid him off.

Which means it won't be long before Scarlett knows it too.

Shit.

“Are you okay?”

I jump, my heart pounding. I’d completely forgotten Cally was there. She’s eyeing me strangely, as though she's trying to figure out what's going on.

“Something's come up. I have to go. Keep practicing your swings. I'll see you tomorrow morning. Call me if you need me, okay?”

“Sure,” she mutters, not looking convinced. She stares at me for a moment longer before returning to training.

I shove my things back into my bag and sling it over my shoulder. I need to find Scarlett, and I need to do it now.

***

I walk into Jake's room at the hospital. He's asleep, and Scarlett is sitting by his bed, her eyes closed. She's asleep, too. I almost don't want to wake her, but this is important. I need to let her know what I know.

And it’s time I come clean about paying him off.

Chapter Sixteen

Scarlett

“Hey, Scar.”

I stir, opening my eyes. My neck is killing me. I've been contorted in this chair all day, and it's beginning to take its toll on my body. I glance over at Jake, who is fast asleep. Finally I focus on Ryder, who is crouched in front of me.

He reaches for my hand and squeezes it. “How is he?” he asks.

“Good. Tired from all the testing, but he's handled it well.”

“And you? How are you?” he asks gently. I smile as he reaches up his thumb and strokes my cheek.

“I'm holding it together.” I shrug. “What else can I do?”

That's a lie. I'm on the verge of falling apart, and the only thing stopping me right now is Jake.

I so badly want to tell Ryder everything, but I know that there is only so much the guy can take. How many more secrets can he handle before he decides it's too much and walks out?

“Do you want to go and grab a coffee? There's something I need to tell you.”

I nod and stand up. I don't like his tone. Whatever he has to tell me, it isn't good. I'm thinking the worst, and at the moment the worst is maybe the police have somehow gotten onto him. I can't think about it too much because I'm so scared, and the moment that fear takes over there’s no going back.

He takes my hand—which is a good sign—and walks me out of the room. There is a small coffee shop located on the same floor as Jake's ward. I sit down while Ryder orders our coffees.

“Wow, this is really hard,” he says.

He's fidgety, and he can't look at me. Every second that passes leaves me more anxious about what is coming. I'm already thinking the worst. I'm running scenario after scenario in my head.

“Please,” I beg. “You're freaking me out.”