Page 88 of Savage Little Lies

“My fucking world is crumbling all around me,” I tell her, my chest tightening. “I don’t have room in my life for a liar.”

“I won’t lie to you again,” Cara says as she takes another step closer. “It doesn’t matter what my name is, Dmitri. I’m still the person you can trust.”

I hold her gaze, my heart racing. I’m still wary, but I think she’s being honest with me. At least, I hope. “You’ve been going by Cara Reynolds for years now?”

“Yes,” she replies. “That’s who I am now that the past is behind me.”

I take a deep breath and exhale slowly. “Okay, Cara. I’ll trust you.”

Mostly. But not all the way.

I can’t do that for anyone.

Besides, how much can I actually trust a woman I paid $100,000 to have sex with for the first time last night?

I was so certain Cara cared about me, that she wasn’t a gold-digger like Annika, but I never gave Annika a dime of my money.

Cara’s face softens a fraction. “Thank you. And just so you know…I feel safe with you. I never felt that with him.”

My racing heart wavers for a second. I do want her to feel safe around me, but am I safe around her?

Even if she lied to protect herself for a good reason, it’s still a lie. It makes me wonder what else she might be hiding from me, and that’s not a comforting thought.

“I should go. I need to talk to Gabe’s family,” I tell her as I pocket her passport rather than give it back. All those background checks will have to be redone now. I just hope they come back the same.

Cara frowns a little at the move, but she nods in understanding.

“See you at the office on Monday?” I ask.

There’s the briefest second of hesitation before she nods. “Of course.”

“I’m putting a few guys on your building, for your protection.” I do want to protect her. But now that she’s got a bag full of my money, I don’t want her trying to leave town. She certainly won’t be able to leave the country since I’m keeping hold of her passport. “Don’t leave here without them,” I warn her.

“I won’t,” she agrees.

My gaze lingers on her for a moment before I walk past her, my shoulders feeling heavier and heavier with each step I take.

This morning when I woke up, I wasn’t alone.

Now I am.

33

Dmitri

Two nights after finding Cara’s passport, after assigning men to her building, my phone rings at midnight.

My head spins from exhaustion as I roll over in bed half-asleep, blindly reaching for my phone through the darkness as it rings. I manage to find it and answer, my eyes heavy and half-lidded.

“What?” I answer.

“Tonight’s shipment was hit! We didn’t make it ten miles before three vans boxed us in and opened fire!” Mark shouts into the phone.

I jolt upright in bed, my pulse spiking. “Again?”

“Our guys are hurt, but they’ll recover. The truck is fucked, though,” Mark tells me. “I’m at the scene now with some of the others.”

“Any sign of who attacked? Was it the Irish again?” I question him as I throw the sheets off me.