“Nah. Well, kind of.” His head lolls back, gaze directed at the ceiling. “It was part of some deal with KORT. Fucking complicated.”
KORT. On one of the transfer documents that Axel shared with me, that name was listed. He was very clear it was for my eyes only and said he’d explain more as we got further into the process of revamping the other resorts. Other than learning the ropes my first week, all I really did was take a brief look at each of the properties.
So many questions bombard me that I’m not sure which to pick. They whip by me in a shaky blur. I told Jax he could talk to me, but I doubt Ryker would sanction this conversation. I suspect that Jax thinks he’s filled me in, so I use what I know. It’s wrong, but no more so than all the stuff they do.
“How did Ty’s family get involved with KORT?” I’m not sure if that makes sense, but I can rephrase and blame the weed if I need to. I’m already feeling it, which is why I draw in one last hit and set the joint in the ashtray.
“Fuck knows,” he sighs, arms flying off the couch. “My guess is, the same way Axel did, through fucking mind-numbing, twisted shit.”
I’m so lost. “Does Rena like it?”
“She loves Ty and the whole family. Not really interested in the whole secret society thing, but that’s not surprising. She’s pissed she can’t visit, but wants to get pregnant and knows it’s best if she doesn’t get shot at again.”
Secret society? Shot at?
My head is spinning. Veins blistering. “She’s okay though?”
“Yeah. Just not here.”
It sounds like our rooftop date was to spy on another cabal because Axel is involved in one that apparently nearly got Rena killed. Not information Ryker should be sitting on after bringing Remy and me here.
I’m panicked and pissed and a host of other emotions that seem as perplexing as my rapid pulse. I whip out my phone and send Ryker a text.
Me: Hey, if Axel is okay with watching Remy for another hour, are you still interested in getting dinner with me?
Ryker: Always.
Me: I want Creole. Café L’Ambroisie?
Ryker: Perfect. Are you high?
Me: As a vulture.
Me: Are you watching me? That’s fucked up.
Ryker: No. You’re with Jax. It was an educated guess.
Me: Touché.
Ryker: There are no cameras in his lounge anyway.
That makes me laugh. So, he watched me come here. If it were anyone else, I’d be infuriated, but Ryker has always made me feel safe. And something about him watching me is … exciting.
Ryker: Finishing up my walk-through. Axel’s good. I’ll be there to grab you in fifteen minutes.
Me: I’d like to talk.
Ryker: About?
I make him wait through a full minute of prancing dots, knowing it will absolutely kill him, before finally swiping out my response.
Me: The farm.
My teeth sink into my lip as I wait the three seconds it takes him to reply.
Ryker: See you in five.
That is some addictive power.
