“Bullshit!” Lincoln booms. “We’rebothon Aster’s payroll. I know who you are, man. I know what you are.”
“You know only what I allow you to know, and hear only the reputation I spread.” He brings his dark brown stare down to mine. “Ryan wrote you a letter. A story of Aster’s daughter’s death. He would have told you about Bastion Conroy and Paul Jameson.”
“How do you?—”
“Arabella Aster was in love with a soldier,” he drones, his tone barely more than bored. “Star-crossed lovers. She wanted to be with Jameson, and Conroy wanted money and power.”
“Yes, I…” I shakily step out from behind Lincoln. His grip grows tighter, his fingers, bruising. “You read the letter after searching my home?”
“No. But I looked for it. I wasn’t sure if Nichols had told you, and I needed to know how deep in you were. But you talk a fuckin’ lot while you’re delirious and unconscious, and we had a thirteen-hour drive where my only entertainment was listening to your ramblings.”
“You lie?—”
“You spoke her name. You cried in your sleep and raged at Conroy and Aster and even Jameson. You wept for your brother and dreamed of the crash.”
“No—”
“I fuckin’ heard you, Nova! But you spokehisname, too.” He tips his chin toward Lincoln. “And those ramblings were less clear. Was your love a result of his trickery? Or did I have a comrade behind enemy lines?”
“A-a comrade…?”
“The story Ry told you isn’t exactly how things went down.” Leaning away from the door, he drags it open just an inch and peeks into the hall before closing it again and resuming his position. “It’s the version he believed to be true, so he didn’t lie. But the key traveled with a false story, in case its keeper was captured and tortured for information.”
“Torture.” Hope makes way for reality. For hopelessness. “Youare the man who tortures those people. That’syou.”
“I’ve collected the codes,” he concedes. “On Aster’s orders, I’ve hunted men down and reported back with partial coordinates.”
“Exactly! You?—”
“But Inevergave Aster accurate numbers, and the keepers I supposedly killed are currently chillin’ in Florida or some shit. Aster possesses what hethinksare four of the five codes, and you have the fifth. In reality, Aster has nothing, while I have it all.”
“So, you double-cross your boss and think we should trust you?” Lincoln takes a step forward, shielding me with his stance. “You found out about the money and wanted it for yourself?”
“WITSEC, stupid. Three of the five code keepers are in protective custody. Ryan Nichols wasn’t so lucky, because Aster sent someone else before I could get there. And the fifth code keeper, Jameson’s son, remains hidden behind a secret identity. You, being the final, makes you a high-profile trace. But Aster insisted he’d send—” He tips his chin toward Lincoln. “A fuckin’ bogey.”
“So, you… you…” My concussion is too severe. My brain, too slow. I blink once, twice, a third time, to clear the gray haze blurring my vision, but all I manage is a groan, because a headache pounds at the back of my skull. “I don’t understand. You’re a cop or something?”
“Or somethin’.” He shrugs. “I already know the fifth code, Nova. I just need to be sure no one else does.”
I memorized it. A million times over, I branded it in the recesses of my mind. “If you already know them, then why don’t you just go there?”
“Idogo there. Often.” He twists and inches the door open again, peeking into the hall. Closing it again, he glances back. “My job is to make sure no one else can get there without an invitation.”
“You don’t care that Conroy stole all that money? Or that he disposed of Arabella’s body?” I take another step forward, only for Lincoln to jerk me to a stop and pull me back. “You say you know where it all is, and you’renotkilling the keepers of the codes… So you’re hoarding the money for yourself?”
“I’m saying I’m a keeper of something far more precious.” He grins. “Something legions more valuable than a soldier’s supposed buried remains.”
“Supposed—”
“Arabella’s alive, Nova. The money was stolen, but not by Conroy.Shesiphoned his accounts.Sheset her father up to fail.Shefaked her own death, andsheran away with her soldier to live a long, happy, abuse-free life, far from the clutches of a man who would have sold her to the highest bidder. The coordinates were never about hiding money and the body of a traitor.”
“They were a protective detail,” I whisper. “Shielding Arabella from the life she never wanted…”
“Ding-ding, kiddo.” He clicks his tongue and smiles, despite Lincoln’s rumbling snarl. “And it was working just fine at first. Aster was ruined, and the secret was safe. But then someone blabbed, and his hunt restarted. Call me a fuckin’ cynic, but I’m at the point where I’d rather be the sole keeper of the codes instead of sharing the load amongst five men. For her safety. For Jameson’s.”
“But why?” I take a step forward. “Why do you care?”
“Jameson’s son,” Lincoln growls, dragging me behind his back and lowering his gun. “You’re Arabella and Jameson’s son. The fifth keeper of the secret.”
