Shit.
I made a big mistake. I promised to keep a secret, and I just spilled it.
“Why do you think she lied?” I ask Makhi instead.
He glares at me. “Because I caught her stealing Nash’s mom’s necklace, and her name is fake. If she lied about her name, she lied about everything else.”
I struggle to understand how he can be so fucking dense sometimes. “She is here running from someone who hurt her,” I bite out. “You saw the way she flinched away from you. She spent her days doing everything humanly possible to be invisible. Of course she would make up a fucking name.”
He furrows his brow. “You knew she was using a fake name.”
“Yes, I knew. Why would she run from someone and keep her real name if she didn’t want to be found?”
Swallowing, Makhi looks at Nash. “And you knew?”
“Yes, I knew.” Nash sets the bag down on the floor. “Since her interview.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Makhi demands, scowling.
“Because it should have been obvious. She dyed her fucking hair. Why wouldn’t she change her name? What else happened when we were outside? And if you’re certain that she’s gone, why is her bag still here?”
“All the money she earned as our maid is still here,” Nash says.
Makhi’s shoulders draw inward, and he avoids my gaze. “I thought she was here to rob the place, so I fired her.”
I step into him. “The person who hurt her before tracked her down. She was crying in my arms before I went out to look for Nash. And you fucking kicked her out!”
Breathing hard, he stares down at the floor. “She lied about her name.”
“Because she didn’ttrustyou with her name!” I snap. “And she was fucking right not too, wasn’t she?”
Spinning around, pissed I wasted all this time pulling answers from Makhi when I could have been going after Byrdie, I stride to the front door. I twist the doorknob, shove it open, and step into a torrential downpour. The rain was bad before. Now it comes down like heavy sheets, making me feel cold just looking at it.
Needing more answers, I turn around. Nash is following me. Makhi hasn’t moved from beside the office door.
“Did she have a coat on? Could she have come back and you missed her?” I ask him.
Makhi darts his eyes from the torrential rain to the tote bag on the floor.
“Makhi!” I snap. “I don’t have time for this shit. Could she have come back?”
He takes a breath and releases it quietly. His face is white as he stares out at the rain. “She didn’t have anything. No coat.” He swallows and whispers, “I slammed the door in her face. Even if she’d wanted to come back, she couldn’t have.”
I turn away from his last whisper and step into the rain. If I don’t walk away from Makhi, I’ll draw my weapon and do something I regret.
Byrdie left with less than she had when she came here. Worse. It looks like whoever was hunting her might have found her.
Chapter 2
Byrdie
Ididn’t see him coming.
A punch drives me to my knees.
My head is ringing as hands grip me and toss me over a hard shoulder. The rain is cold and relentless, soaking my hair and freezing the skin beneath my clothes. I don’t have to look to know who has a hold of me: one of Jeremiah’s acolytes.
Every step he takes makes my stomach twist. I gag, and my throat burns with bitter bile, but nothing comes out.
