“Where is she?” Tension stiffens Nash’s shoulders as he shuts the door and locks it behind us.
He must feel the wrongness too.
“Upstairs. I told her to hide when we heard the gunshot.”
He glances at me as we walk through the dining room toward the entryway. “Do you think someone is here to hurt her?”
“Why else would someone be here with a gun?”
“Nance said a guy was looking for his wife,” he says.
I know. Nance told me. Her words prompted me to check on Byrdie. I’d told Nance to go to her room and stay there, not wanting her to get hurt in case someone was prepared to go through Nance to get to Byrdie.
Out of the corner of my eye, Nash is looking at me, waiting for an answer I can’t give him. Byrdie is that wife. She was secretive before, so quiet about her past, but right from the start I knew she was running from something. No one has shadows that dark in their eyes if they aren’t afraid. She trusted me withthe secret of her real name. I can’t give that up. Not even to Nash, who I trust like a brother.
As we continue through the entryway, Nash’s office door flies open. My gun jumps into my hand. That’s how fast I reach for it.
Makhi scowls at me from the doorway, eyes flicking from the gun in my hand to my face. “What the fuck?”
Glaring at him, I tuck my gun away. “You’re lucky I didn’t blow your head off. Didn’t you hear the gunshots outside? What the fuck are you doing flinging doors open like that?”
Nash steps around me while I’m talking to Makhi, and I turn my attention to him. “Where are you going?”
He continues toward the staircase. “Checking on Jessica.”
With a snort, Nash turns back to the office. “Wasting your time, bro. Whatever trouble you had out there, you won’t be having anymore. Bitch is a fucking liar.”
My back stiffens as the curse falls from his lips. “What the fuck did you say?”
Makhi raises his voice as he looks me in the eye. “Isaidthat thebitchis a fucking?—”
Five steps close the distance between us, and I have my hand wrapped around his throat before he can say anything else.
Nash appears on my right, grasping my shoulder and tugging me. “Let him go.”
I don’t let Makhi go, and I’m too big for Nash to move.
I keep my eyes fixed on Makhi, and even though I have my hand loose around his throat, he smirks at me as if wanting to provoke me.
“Don’t talk about her like that,” I warn him.
“She was playing you, Vonn,” Makhi says, dropping his smirk. “She was playing all of us.”
“What happened?” Nash asks Makhi and turns to me. “Let him go.”
Makhi knocks my hand aside, and even though it’s not hard enough to move me, I release him. He’s a friend, and I don’t want to hurt him. But my protective instincts for Byrdie are strong.
“I found Nash’s mom’s necklace in her bag. The one she was wearing in that picture,” Makhi says, pointing his chin at the massive painting hanging in the entryway opposite the staircase. “She had her friends or boyfriend or whatever out there causing trouble so she could snatch up the loot and make her escape.”
“Mymom’snecklace?” Nash glances up at the gold-framed portrait of a blonde woman with amber eyes identical to his. “But that’s?—”
Makhi bends to retrieve something from just inside the office—a tote bag—and tosses it toward Nash, who catches it. “Wherever it was, it’s not there any longer.”
Nash peers into the bag and pulls out the emerald and gold necklace. From his expression, a mix of confusion and shock, it’s the same necklace. “How…”
I frown. “Byrdie wouldn’t take it. She had no reason to.”
“Who the fuck isByrdie?” Makhi demands.
