She flashed a knowing, sardonic smile, arching her back, aware of her ability to wield her body like a weapon.“Oh, that. Well… perhaps,” she replied.“But I did nothing else, I swear. I didn’t tell him where I was, so I don’t know how he found us.”
I shook my head.“He tracked your phone, Betty.”
Realization dawned on her face.“Oh… well, shit.”
It was careless of me not to keep a closer eye on that purse of hers. Still, there was a bigger reason to worry. If Nash could find us, anyone could. Crap, I had to talk to Ethan. How easy was it to track a cell phone? Did the mafia even know her number—that was a stupid question.
Betty threw on her robe, rushing to the door and slipping her bare feet into muddy boots. She looked completely disheveled and thoroughly fucked, and her brother was going to notice.
I ran my hand down my face. I was a dead man.
She flung the door open, and a cacophony of screaming, crying, and excited canine yelps filled the air. The black and white dog soon bounded in, and to my shock, Mr. Beans darted out from beneath the bed to greet him. A continuous, drawn-out meow escaped Mr. Beans as he trotted right up to Bill, rubbing up into his chest and leg, circling him in companionable joy.
I retreated to the kitchen, finding it to be the last sanctuary I had left. Leaning my palms on the counter, I waited. Soon, bodies filed through the door, coats were shed, and eyes avoided mine—all except Betty’s, which held a wary, apologetic glimmer.
Sybil placed a hand on Betty’s arm.“Are you alright?” She scrutinized her face.
Betty beamed.“Wait until you see Gray’s greenhouse. Sybil, you’re going to love it here. It’s amazing, like heaven.”
Okay, well. That felt good. She was showing the place off with pride.
Nash stood at the door, hands in his pockets and legs spread wide. He looked like a security guard or a club bouncer.
Our eyes met.“Beer?” I asked.
“Whiskey,” he replied.
He’d be a tough nut to crack, but we’d get there. I nodded, taking the whiskey from the top of the fridge and two tumblers from the cabinet. I poured him a generous glass and slid it over.
Betty was so feminine and bubbly right now, and it was beautiful to see.“Sybil, come out to the shed so I can get cleaned up in the tub. I have so much to tell you,” she gushed.
Was she really going to leave me alone with this guy?
I wasn’t afraid of Nash. When it came down to it, I was a far better fighter. I just didn’t want to deal with the awkward aftermath. He’d ask the tough questions; I was sure of it. But I might as well get it over with. I had questions of my own, like, how the hell did they get here, anyway?
“Want to sit?” I gestured to the two armchairs.
He grunted his agreement and sat down while I tossed a few logs into the stove. Taking the opportunity, I hurried to the cabinet where I kept the satellite phone. Sure enough, there was a missed call from Ethan, time-stamped late last night. I could have easily missed it, as Betty’s every curve and soft angle had me captivated.
From the corner of my eye, I saw him surveying the room, looking at the ceiling, leaning forward to examine the molding and the floor, grunting each time. Grunt of approval? It was yet to be known.
The dog was doing much the same, sniffing all around the baseboards and inspecting every inch of the room. I felt wildly scrutinized, as if I were about to be caught hiding something.
Mr. Beans leaped into Nash’s lap, purring and rubbing against him before vigorously settling down to knead his arm. It was clear that they knew each other well. Villainy approached him slowly, settling at his feet and looking up with a blink. I watched Nash extend a hand for Villy to sniff.
Alright, maybe not a complete sociopath. If the cats liked him, that boded well.
I sat opposite Nash.
Nash gave me a placid stare.
I returned it.
He took a long sip of the whiskey, eyeing me over the rim of the glass before resting it on the arm of the chair and crossing his hands over Mr. Beans.“So…” he began.“You gonna tell me what happened?”
Chapter 28
Betty
