“That the guy would follow me there. I did my best to cover my tracks…I didn’t use my email or anything to make the reservation for the flight. I just went to the airport and got a ticket for the flight to Montana. My assistant put the rental car in her name, stuff like that.”
“Were there any other emails referencing Brody?”
“A couple, but just more of the same stuff. Warnings about me being on the wrong path and that it was Brody’s fault.”
“Was it ever more than just the emails?” I asked.
I only knew about the vandalized car, but when Nathan paled, I knew there was more.
“Tell me,” I murmured as I put my hand on his again. I was stunned when he wrapped his fingers around mine briefly before moving his hand away.
“I’m not sure about some of the stuff,” he hedged.
“Tell me anyway. Every little bit helps.”
“Um, I started noticing little things around the house every now and then. A book on the bookshelf pulled out just a little bit farther than the rest, a glass left out on the counter on days when my housekeeper wasn’t scheduled to stop by, a favorite tie clip or cufflinks going missing…I just thought it was me being forgetful.”
“What else?”
“A flat tire now and again, missing mail and packages…all things that could be explained away.”
“When did you know something had changed?”
Nathan hesitated before saying, “I came home one night and found...I found the body of this stray cat I used to sometimes feed just outside my patio door. Its neck had been broken.”
I stiffened at that.
“Did you tell someone?” I asked.
He shook his head. “No.”
“Why the fuck not?” I snapped. When he didn’t answer me, I said, “Did the cat happen before or after you went to Dare?”
“Before…I left the very next day. The second email about the guy going after Brody had come that morning.”
“You didn’t tell Brody about the cat, did you? Or the other stuff?”
Nathan shook his head.
“Why not?”
“Because I knew what he would have done if I had. As much as he hated me, I knew he’d still have my back. He was always a better man than me.”
“And you didn’t want to risk putting him in further danger,” I murmured.
“Of course not. I don’t…I don’t get a pass on what I did to him because of all this,” Nathan snapped as he motioned between us. “I could see it in his eyes when I left,” he murmured.
“See what?”
“That he was going to forgive me.”
“And that’s so bad why?” I asked.
“Because what I did was unforgivable.” His voice was so thick with regret I felt my own throat tighten in response.
“Nate-”
“It’s Nathan!” Nathan snapped, his voice raw. “Are we done?” he asked as his pain-filled eyes turned to meet mine.
