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His hand flexed on my knee, then loosened again. “Honest answer? Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

He shrugged. “Nothing confirmable. Switch ran everything. There’s no social security number tied to that name. No birth certificate. No school records, no passport, nothing.” He shook his head but kept his eyes on the road. “On paper, Carla Price barely exists.”

A person with no past at all, quietly drawing my family’s money out of the dark for years. I wondered about her secrets and her connection to Rex. “Do you think she knows she’s stealing money from a dead woman?”

He blew out a heavy breath and shook his head. “I have no idea. Maybe she doesn’t know and just gets her monthly payout from Rex? But she’s not stealing from a dead woman. She’s stealing from you, the rightful heir.”

I shook my head, immediately rejecting his words because they sounded too fanciful for someone like me. “What if Carla Price is just a fake person, one who only exists to allow Rex to funnel money out of the main account?”

Knox nodded. “It’s a good thought, but the money is being taken out on the other end in Nevada. It’s a real person, but we have no fucking clue who Carla Price is.” His jaw clenched tight. I was learning to read those small tells he thought he was so good at hiding. Knox was stressed, not that he’d ever say as much out loud.

“But you have some guesses?”

He turned his head to give me a long look before he flicked his eyes back on the road. “A few.”

I waited. He didn’t go on, because of course he didn’t. I sighed heavily. “Are you going to tell me or should I just guess?”

His lips twisted into a crooked grin. “Guess if you want to.”

I glared at him, and he laughed, low and unbothered, the bastard. It was a beautifully masculine sound, and I soaked up every second of it through my glaring. “A girlfriend or maybe a dirty cop. A family member.” I hadn’t really given it much thought. “Does it matter? Whoever it is, lives off money that was meant for my mom.”

“And for you too,” he added with a sigh. He looked at me again, this time expectation was heavy in his gaze. “She was your mother, Ivy. That’s how shit like this works.”

My breath hitched. I hadn’t thought of it like that, and once I did I couldn’t un-think it. That money could have been my escape from Rex years ago. An apartment in a city he would never have though to search. A plane ticket to the other side of the country. A version of my life where I got to pick which doors I walked through. I shook my head. “Another way he stole years of my life from me.” Was there no end to the damage he would cause in my life? “I hate him. So fucking much.”

“We all do.” He lifted my hand off my knee and folded it into his, big and rough and warm, and squeezed once. He held on. “Hungry?”

I shook my head and placed one hand over my stomach. “I think I’m still full on gas station snacks.” I laughed. “I ate way too many donut holes.”

His lips twitched as if he was amused by me, but it was slightly softer than amusement. “You didn’t eat that many.”

I gasped. “I ate almost the entire bag,” I protested. “When I’m nervous I snack too much.”

“You don’t need to be nervous,” he insisted, grabbing my hand and pressing our palms together, a move that instantly soothed me. “We’re just gathering intel.”

I nodded, desperate to believe that even though this road trip felt so much bigger than simple research. “Yeah, okay.” If I looked at it just as that, my nerves might settle.

“Want to stop for sleep?” He glanced over and wiggled his brows, such a playful move from a man who’d killed two people for threatening my safety, that I laughed so hard my shoulders shook. The laughter loosened the knot in my chest for the first time in a hundred miles.

“I’m not tired,” I told him, my voice shakier than I wanted it to sound. “But yes.”

The heat that moved into his eyes could have stripped paint. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. He just wrapped his fingers around the steering wheel and pressed his foot on the gas like the speed limit was merely a suggestion.

Ten minutes later we found a family friendly roadside motel with a cheerful sign free breakfast. “Is this a good idea?” I asked, looking around at all the people milling about.

“It’s perfect,” Knox insisted as he maneuvered us into a parking spot. “Lots of people means lots of witnesses, and we look like a young couple enjoying a weekend alone together.” His voice pitched low on those last two words, so low it started a hard, thumping pulse between my thighs.

“Okay,” I answered easily, breaking free of my seatbelt while Knox eased from the car to get us checked in. I watched him through the office window, the way he filled the doorway, the way the clerk straightened up at the sight of him.

He returned with a key attached to an orange plastic diamond and a look on his face so hot my thighs press together to stop the ache. “We got the honeymoon suite.”

I laughed, unsure if he was joking and if he wasn’t, what kind of room warranted honeymoon suite status in a place like this?

“Come on, babe,” he called.

I followed him down the corridor as he opened the door. I stepped inside and stopped at the heart-shaped bed. Then my eyes went to the mini hot tub and minibar. “There’s nothing about this place that’s family friendly.”