Deep (The Deep Duet 1)
She snapped another picture of the guy she didn’t know and then frowned when she zoomed in on the image. He had dots, a series of them on the back of his neck. Just like Rafe did.
What the hell?
She photographed Rafe as usual. She photographed Lucia, but no such dots. But Noah Blake had them too.
What in the ever-loving hell?
“Hello, earth to Diana.”
“Sorry, I just—”
“Diana, you said you were following Rafe. Where exactly are you?”
Diana sank in the seat of her car as if Charisse could see her. “Well, about that—”
“Where are you?” Her bestie was not to be fooled.
“I’m across the street from Blake Security.”
“Oh my God, are you insane?”
“Relax. It’s fine. They can’t see me.”
“They could have cameras.”
“Maybe. But (a) I’m wearing a wig, (b) I’m a tourist taking photos, (c) I keep changing out my rental cars so they don’t notice. I’m fine. I got this handled.”
“I sure hope you know what you’re doing.”
So did Diana. Because if she didn’t, she might end up dead.
Like your father.
Diana started down over the edge of the ravine and swallowed hard as saliva filled her mouth. She hated heights. Heights meant she could fall to her death. But hey, details, right? Besides, the whole plan was for it to look like she’d nearly tumbled to her death. It was times like this that she needed a rational friend to tell her that her plan was crazy. Note to self, make more rational friends. Or hell, any friends. Funny how there wasn’t time for friends when you had revenge on the brain.
Ovary up, bitch. This is the plan.
If she wanted her plan to work, it was going to require sacrifice, which meant getting this car down the fucking ravine and then climbing down herself. Time to put on her big-girl thong.
She gathered up her long blond hair and secured it with a ponytail holder. Time to get to work. She only had a couple of hours. She’d been following Rafe DeMarco every Tuesday for months. This was the path he’d take. It was too late for another plan. Besides she’s been setting this up for months.
She had selected the perfect spot for this. Right before the guardrail began. As an added bonus, there was a path she could use to initially climb down and a rock outcropping she could stand on to wait for him.
She’d scattered broken glass to make it look like an accident. Once the car was in neutral, she jogged around to the trunk and started to push.
Her ribs throbbed. That asshole in krav maga class had forgotten they were training and had gotten in a brutal hit. She’d have bruises for days. But it wasn’t like she could wait to heal up.
Even as the sweat popped on her brow and her body screamed, inch by inch she pushed until she finally started to get some momentum. And then managed to get the car right up to the edge. With one more deep breath, she rolled the car over the edge.
The crash, boom, thud sounds echoed all through the ravine as the car tumbled front-over-end down the jagged edges of rocks. A quick glance at her watch told her she needed to haul ass. DeMarco was likely turning on to the road by now, so she didn’t have time to waste.
It was a stupid thing, but she felt a pang of hurt looking at th
e shiny blue paint she’d picked out, all crumpled and cracked. That was the first car she’d ever bought for herself.
She’d never had her own car before. Her father had preferred for her to be chauffeured, and her brothers had felt the same way. So she’d been excited to pick out a car on her own. And look at it now… a martyr for the cause.
“Your sacrifice will not be for nothing, young Toyota.”