Page 83 of Wicked Heat

Twenty-Five

Since I’d taken a taxi to the track, I make the half-hour drive back to the hotel with Ash in the McLaren, my skin still tingling from the way he’d touched me. Held me. Made me his.

I sigh, letting my mind linger on the memory of the kisses he’d skimmed over my body. And from the words that had flooded through my soul with his touch. Want. Need. Mine.

Love?

Maybe, but I can’t let that one into my head. It’s too soon.

And far too scary.

“Tell me about your code,” he says as soon as we’re on the way. He’s holding my hand, removing it only when he needs to shift gears. I don’t have to ask for an explanation. I know he’s referring to the QR code I’d pulled from my phone case earlier that evening.

That evening. Had it really only been hours since he’d seen those horrible images with me? Those vile “Greatest Hits?” I hug myself, hating that Ash knows what he now knows… but also glad that I have Ash to help me shoulder the burden.

I draw a deep breath to bolster myself. “I told you it was in the goodie basket from the book signing, right? Well, I’d just watched it when you knocked on my car window outside the coffee shop.”

He turns long enough to meet my eyes, his own haunted. “No wonder you looked so spooked.”

“We thought it might be you,” I admit. “Aria and me. Mostly Aria. Like a criminal returning to the scene of the crime.”

“And I came to your car because I wanted to see your reaction?”

“That was her theory.”

“What do you think now?” he asks, turning to face me.

“I think you need to watch the road. And I think you’re one of the most honorable men I’ve ever met. You wouldn’t hurt me,” I say, though some silent, inner part of me amends that statement to say that he’d never hurt me like that.” I’m not sure about emotionally. I think about how haunted he’d looked when the image of that woman — Delia—had popped onto the screen. I don’t know the whole story, of course, but I don’t think either one of us has a decent track record where relationships are concerned.

“I would never hurt you.” His words are as solid as the man himself, and if nothing else, I know that he believes them. But where hurt is concerned, intent isn’t always what matters. Like smoke, hurt can sneak into crevices and wind through weak spots. Most of my life has been an object lesson in that particular theorem.

“Do you have any idea who sent these QR codes?”

His question pulls me from my dark thoughts about his dead ex to dark thoughts about my kidnapping and our suspect list. With a sigh, I hug myself and shake my head. “Everyone involved in the kidnapping is dead now.”

“Everyone that you know of who was involved.”

“True.” I don’t like it, but since someone got their hands on those videos, it’s a fair guess there was someone else involved. Or someone who knew Rory or one of the other players behind the whole, horrific scheme.

“Involved at the time, or became aware later,” Ash says, when I share my thoughts. “Also, maybe they weren’t involved back then, but they were aware. Maybe someone who was personally involved with Rory or one of the other players. They knew about the kidnapping but wanted nothing to do with it.”

“And now they’re hard up for cash?” I suggest. “Found the old footage and decided to take advantage?”

“Could be,” he says.

“The problem is we don’t have anything solid to go on.”

“Yet,” he says. “We don’t have anything to go on yet.” His hands tighten on the steering wheel, his knuckles going white. “I swear,” he adds, his voice as sharp as a blade, “I will figure out who’s behind this.”

I want to bask in his certainty, but I know better than to blithely believe. “How?”

“I don’t know,” he admits. “But I will. You can count on it.”

I let his words wash over me, expecting frustration. Instead, I feel hope. Because something in his tone tells me that he won’t rest until he figures it out, and through it all, he’s determined to protect me.

“We’ll start with the QR codes,” he says. “We have two, and presumably they go to different URLs. That’s a lead.”

“I saved the link to the first URL my code sent me to. I’m not sure if that will help, though.”