4
Reid
I plunked down in my leather chair and stared at the papers on my desk. My phone buzzed. Rock.
“Hey,” I said.
“She’s out. Arraignment is over. Bail was five fucking million.”
I shook my head. “Unreal. How is she?”
“Shaken. Really shaken. I’ve got to tell you, bro. I don’t think she can take much more of this.”
“I feel that.”
“I suppose I should say congratulations.”
“What for?”
“I got a text from Hayes. He told me about your nuptials.”
I sighed. “Yeah. Fuck it all, right?”
“She’s easy on the eyes, at least.”
“She’s…a lot of things.”
“No way…” Rock said.
“What?”
“You’ve fallen for her. For Zee.”
“She’s a victim. Of our father.”
“So? Doesn’t mean you can’t fall for her.”
I could lie as well as anyone. It came in handy during business negotiations. But I didn’t have the heart to lie to my big brother. I was just too damned tired. “I guess I have.”
“That’s great!”
“Except she doesn’t feel the same way.”
“Then woo the hell out of her, man. You’re the Wolfe of Wall Street.”
“Manhattan,” I said, more rigidly than I meant to. “The Wolfe of Manhattan. I swear you get that wrong on purpose.”
He didn’t laugh. “Yeah, whatever. Babes fall all over you.”
“Because of my money. Zee doesn’t care about any of that. My money is why she was kidnapped and hunted. Because our fucked-up father had the money to do anything he wanted.”
“You’re more than your money, Reid. We all are.”
God, I was being self-absorbed. Whining to my big brother who’d just had his wife taken away in cuffs right in front of him this morning. “Go take care of Lacey. She needs you. I’m fine.”
“I will. But first let me give you a piece of advice.”
I sighed. “Okay.”
“Don’t let her get away. Take care of her. She’s been through hell. Show her you can be the husband she needs.”
“Yeah.” I didn’t know what any of that meant. The husband she needs? I didn’t know how to be any kind of husband. But I wasn’t about to make Rock elaborate, not when his own wife needed him right now.
“I’ve got to go,” Rock said. “I’ll check in with you tomorrow. You coming in?”
“I have to. The Vegas thing is still hanging over our heads. Plus I have to take care of Zee’s employment and rent for her roommates. Then, of course, there’s this stupid-ass case. Fuck…”
“Do me, and yourself, a favor, will you?”
“What’s that?”
“Don’t think about work tonight. Don’t think about the case. Just think about Zee.”
Zee and I were in this marriage sham because of the case, but I appreciated what Rock was trying to do. “I’ll try, bro. Bye.”
I set my phone down on my desk.
Just think about Zee.
All I did was think about Zee. She was a distraction, and I couldn’t afford to be distracted right now, for her sake as well as my own.
But Zee was always there in my mind, since the night I’d first laid eyes on her a mere week ago.
Damn.
My phone buzzed again. “For God’s sake,” I said out loud without bothering to look at who was calling. “What the hell do you want?”
“It’s me, Reid. Nieves.”
Fuck. Nieves Romero. Another thing I didn’t want to deal with right now. But we needed her cooperation. “Yeah? How’s your sister?”
“She’ll make it. She had surgery to remove her spleen. They kicked her all over, even broke one of her teeth.”
Jesus. “Who did it?”
“I was hoping you could help me find out.”
“Nieves, I have my own problems. Rock’s wife was just arrested for murdering my father, I’m still a suspect, and oh, I’m married.”
“What?”
“Yeah, so no getting back into my bed.”
She huffed so hard I almost felt her breath through the phone. “You really think I’m after that when my sister’s lying in a hospital bed?”
I sighed. Again. “Sorry. I’ll look into it.” After all, whoever beat up Leta Romero could have ties to whoever was behind my father’s murder. Nieves knew more than she was letting on.
Wait! Man, I was tired. I could use that.
“I’ll take care of it. I’ll find out who did this to Leta, but in return, you have to tell me everything, Nieves. Every last thing.”
“I will. I’ve been scared straight. No more games. I can’t lose my little sister.”
“All right,” I said. “Now start talking.”
5
Lacey
My God, I was sick to death of living in Rock’s hotel suite. We couldn’t move into the penthouse until the investigation was over, and though I itched to get out of the hotel, did I really want to live in a penthouse where a man had died? Been murdered? And I was going on trial for said murder?
Absolutely too much to think about.
I sat in the bathroom now, on top of the toilet seat, my head in my hands. Rock was wonderful. None of this was his fault, but I didn’t want to talk. Didn’t want to face him.