I don’t know Hana very well. I haven't made up my mind how I feel about this girl who’s normal one minute then high as a kite or mixed up in a gambling-porn-blackmail racket the next. I know she’s important to Blake, and while I disagree with her reasons, it makes me want to try.

  “I’m sorry.” Clearing my throat, I take a step back to where she’s standing. “I’m sure that was hard for you.”

  “Our past makes us who we are today, right?”

  “And the choices we make.” She doesn’t respond, so I put it out there. “I don’t want Pepper around things that could hurt her.”

  She doesn’t meet my eyes, but she nods. “Blake is like that.”

  “You could be a little more like that yourself.”

  “I don’t want to hurt anyone.” Her brow furrows, and she looks up at me. “I want to have experiences. I’m an artist.”

  “Art isn’t about gambling debts and porn films.”

  The color drains from her face. “What do you know about that?”

  It’s enough to draw me closer. For the first time, she might choose to remember. “What do you know about someone named Ivanov?”

  Her body is tense, and her eyes flutter away. She seems to be closing in on herself. “Nothing. I don’t know him.”

  “But you know it’s a him?” Her chin lowers, and she starts chewing her thumb. I’ve seen her shut down this way before. It’s annoying as fuck, and I don’t have time for it. “Where’s Blake?”

  “She’s not here.”

  “Did she go into town? I need to speak to her.”

  “She left with Trip and his friend. They went back to New York.”

  “New York?” Cold filters through my veins. “Did she say why?”

  “Trip said they were going to the gala, but Blake said I had to stay here.” Hana turns her back and walks to the window. “We always go to the gala together.”

  Knowing what I know now, I’m pretty confident the gala is not why Blake went to the city.

  “Listen to me,” I catch Hana by the arm and turn her to face me. “I need you to think. Who would Blake go to see in New York?”

  Her brow furrows, and she shakes her head. “I don’t know.”

  For once it’s possible she’s telling the truth. “When is the gala?”

  “Tonight at nine. Are you going?” She studies my face. “Can I go with you?”

  “I think your sister’s right. You’d better stay here. I’ll have Scar and Dirk keep an eye on you. Spend the night at my place if you don’t want to stay here alone.”

  She pulls her arm out of my grip and walks away, but I don’t have time to waste.

  19

  Blake

  Camera flashes strobe in our faces as I step out of the small limo on the royal blue carpet leading into the convention center. For a split second, I’m plunged into the last time I stepped out of a limo into a rainbow of flashing lights.

  Debbie.

  My heart seizes, but Trip catches my hand, helping me out of the vehicle. I exhale slowly, holding the side of my sheer, red Versace gown. I chose it in memory of her. The annual Belmont gala was one of Debbie’s favorite events of the year, and according to Hana, she’d already chosen the Versace dress she wanted to wear.

  I never saw it.

  Grief swells in my chest, but I hold it back. I’m here to get to the bottom of all the bullshit. On my way into the city with Greg and Trip, I got the final text from Papi-O, Welcome home. Time’s up.

  I haven’t responded to any of the threats, but my suspicions are confirmed. They’re tracking my movements. Only three people knew I was coming here, and after my encounter with Greg, I’m convinced he’s involved somehow.

  He doesn’t know that I know about my uncle’s ledger. I also know Dirk came to the city to investigate the names in that book. More importantly, my uncle wanted us out of here, which all adds up to one thing: Returning to the city is the only way to get the rats to come out and play.

  I’m the cheese.

  I have the money, but I know paying a blackmailer never stops the blackmail. It only encourages him or her. I have to find out who it is.

  Trip pulls my hand into the crook of his arm as I scan the room of familiar and unfamiliar faces. “You’re very J-Lo in that dress, B. You make me look good.”

  Glancing up, I give him a tight smile. “You’re welcome. I’m sure you could’ve found any number of attractive debs to hold your arm. Natasha or Rainey, for example.”

  “Natasha is so boring, and Rainey’s a child.”

  “She’s eighteen last I checked.”

  He lifts two flutes of champagne off a passing tray, handing one to me and finishing his in a single gulp before grabbing another. “And yet I chose you.”

  “You’re supposed to sip it, not shoot it.”

  The gala hall is breathtaking as it is every year. The black and beige marble floors are polished to a high shine, and massive jeweled chandeliers are lit in a row down the center of the high ceiling. Windows soar to the roof, covered in long sheer curtains, and a dance floor is in the center of the enormous space with a full jazz band playing standards accompanied by a Kenny G type on the tenor sax.

  It’s a black-tie affair, and the pedigreed class loves to take this opportunity to show off their Fashion Week finds. The ache in my chest fuels my desire for answers.

  “I’m not surprised you changed your mind about being here. One can only stand so much of that corny, Hamiltown snoozefest. Poor Hana. I’m sure she’s climbing the walls.”

  My eyes narrow, and I study his face. “She was doing very well until you showed up. I heard you took her out and got her high your first night in town.”

  “You were misinformed. I did no such thing.”

  “You’re saying Hutch didn’t find my sister high with you two nights ago?”

  “Oh, he found her high.” He’s already on his third glass of champagne, and I’ve only taken two sips. “I had nothing to do with it.”

  “Why did you take her out?” I watch him as I sip from my glass.

  “As I said, Hamiltown is as boring as being alive. Even that attempt at frivolity was a bust.”

  “Are you blackmailing me?”

  I catch him mid-guzzle, and he almost does a spit take. “Are you high? Why the fuck would I want to blackmail you?”

  “Is Greg?”

  Shaking his head, he finishes his drink. “Greg has more money than God–and in cash.”

  “Why was he digging around in my uncle’s study?”

  Trip’s lips pucker, and he glances around the room. “He has his reasons.”

  “Which you know?”

  “Maybe.”

  We walk farther into the crowd, closer to the dance floor, when I stop and pull his arm, forcing him to face me. “I’ve been generous with you. Now it’s your turn. What do you know?”

  His jaw sets, and his eyes level on mine. “I know you’re a target because you won’t lose. Hana is at rock bottom and still digging, but the honey all comes from the same pot.”

  “You know who’s behind this?”

  “I don’t know for certain, but I can guess. Ask yourself who needs the money, and you’ll find him.”

  “So it’s a him?”

  He shrugs, answering me with that annoying smirk.

  “What does Greg Peters need?”

  All signs of mirth fade, and he glances over his shoulder before leaning closer. “Answers, and he’s determined to find them. You’d better keep your sister on ice if you care about her safety.”

  My throat tightens, and I take a sip of champagne, doing my best to act indifferent. “What does he care about Hana? They barely know each other.”

  “His uncle is missing, presumed dead, and he believes either Hana did it or she knows who did.”

  “Hana isn’t capable of murder.”

  “Have you seen her high?”

  Chewing my lip, I don’t like to think about it. “Even if it’s possible, you have to have a motive. I’ve never even seen her angry at anyone.”

  “Just because you haven’t seen it doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. You can’t see the wind, can you? But it’s blowing some bad shit your way.”

  Shaking my head, I try to make this make sense. “Who the hell is Greg’s uncle?”

  “Your mother’s old accountant.” Victor. Now I am sick, but I hold my expression steady as he continues. “According to Debbie, Hana had a motive. According to Greg, Debbie said Hana got her revenge. He was going to confront her, but that tattooed freak was always hanging around blocking. He even blocked my attempts.”

  Debbie told Greg? Could it be true? Inside I’m spiraling, but I force a laugh, rolling my eyes like he’s lost his mind. The truth is, I’m scared as shit.

  “Whatever Greg thinks Debbie said, it won’t matter. Hana never remembers anything.”

  “What did she forget about Victor Petrova?”

  A large hand slides around my lower back, and I jump forward with a little yelp. Trip catches my drink, and when I turn, my eyes fly wide.

  “Hutch… What are you doing here?”

  “And why am I not surprised?” Trip exhales heavily.

  “I was going to ask you the same thing.” Hutch’s brow is lowered over his intense green eyes. His dark hair is perfectly messy, and he’s gorgeous in the requisite black tie and tux. “If you’ll excuse us, Trip.”

  “Take her. I’ve got my own business to manage.” Trip waves me away with a flick of his wrist, and I know he’s hooking up with his gambling connections. “Goodnight, Blake.”

  Hutch takes my hand and pulls me tight against his side. The band is playing George Gershwin’s “Someone to Watch Over Me,” and I don’t even go there with the coincidence.

  We’re at the dance floor, and he turns to face me, still not smiling. Merging with the other dancers, his palm is flat against my lower back, and our hands are clasped. I hold his shoulder, lowering my face to his broad chest as sage and citrus and sexy man-scent flood my senses.

  I’m frustrated and still angry at him, but I’m relieved to see him–and I’m pissed that I’m so relieved.

  “You left town without telling me.” His stern voice is at my ear, and I lift my chin, meeting his arrogance head-on.

  “I didn’t know I had to check with you before I did anything.”

  “I promised your uncle I’d keep you safe. How am I supposed to do that if you leave without telling me?”

  “Perhaps it’s time I paid your bill. I don’t like being a prisoner.”

  “You’re not a prisoner, and you’re not my client.” His warm breath tingles against my bare shoulder. “Your uncle hired me to protect you, and I never charge him for my services.”

  My lips press together. He’s so fucking infuriating. Our eyes meet, and mild amusement is in his. Exhaling, I decide to make the most of his presence. After what I’ve learned from Trip, I need all the help I can get.

  “How much did my uncle tell you about why he wanted us out of New York?”

  “Not much. He said it was for your safety, and he made me promise to come and get you if his letter didn’t do the trick.”

  That makes me laugh. “He thought I would go with you?”

  “I told him you wouldn’t, but he insisted I convince you.”

  “Why would he do that?” I scan the room.

  “He trusted me, Blake. Don’t you think it’s time you did the same?”

  My fingers tighten on the expensive fabric of his Armani suit. It’s the first time I’ve been in the city since Debbie died, and I feel like I’m clinging to the only lifeboat in a sea of sharks.

  His arms are around me and the power of him seeps into me with the lyrics of the song. Lifting my face to meet his, I slowly nod my head.

  Soft as butterfly wings, his lips brush the silver scar above my eyebrow, and he murmurs, “Good girl.”

  Those words falling from his lips heat my blood, but it’s killed by a shrill voice calling my name.

  “Blake!” My mother sways up beside us on the arm of a man I don’t recognize. “I didn’t think you were coming. Where have you been?”

  “I was visiting Uncle Hugh in Hamiltown.” I hold steady as she kisses my cheek.

  “Why on Earth would you go to that odd little hamlet? I’ve never understood Hugh’s fascination with it.”

  “It’s our family place. It’s part of who we are.”

  “Darling, I have family in the hills of West Virginia, but you don’t see me running off there.”

  I swallow my annoyance, and Hutch cuts in. “I don’t know about West Virginia, but most people find Hamiltown relaxing. It’s definitely more real than New York.”

  Mama’s eyes narrow at Hutch. “Hoyt's son.” She holds out her hand. “I see you’re as arrogant as ever. Are you here to tell us all what to do again?”

  “I’m simply stating my opinion.” He shakes her hand briefly.

  Her eyes move from him to me and back again. “You’ve always been so interested in my daughter. Are you two together?”

  “We just bumped into each other,” I answer quickly.

  Her gaze turns to me. “Where is your sister? Is she also in Hamiltown? Her birthday is right around the corner, and I–”

  “I think we’ll spend her birthday at Uncle Hugh’s. She’s doing well there, taking pictures, staying clean. It’s a better environment for her.”

  “Well, I just don’t know what to make of this.” Mama places a hand on her chest as if she’s astonished. “You girls always hated the country. You said the sound of crickets gave you the itch.”

  Blinking down, I exhale a laugh. “I guess I’ve grown up since then.”

  Hutch clears his throat, and my mother’s eyebrow arches. “Well, I understand grown-up feelings. Whatever makes you happy, darling. I’m leaving for Cannes in a few days. Let me know if you need anything.”

  “It was nice to see you, Mrs. van Hamilton.”

  “Good heavens, call me India. You’re over twenty-one.”

  A flurry of air kisses, and she swirls away, leaving me as alone as I’ve ever been. For years my mother’s indifference bothered me. I longed for her approval, yet I only received criticism and dismissal for my efforts. She’s never been any help to me or any kind of role model for Hana. It’s exhausting.

  Hutch takes my hand firmly in his, and I look up at my designated protector. “We have things to discuss.”

  I nod slowly, allowing him to lead me away from the crowd. Maybe I’m still angry with him, and maybe we don’t see eye to eye, but it looks like trusting him is my only choice if I’m going to save us.

  20

  Hutch

  “Where did you leave it with them?” We’re on the balcony just off the grand ballroom, and I’m listening as Blake fills in the missing details of the blackmail story.

  She’s gorgeous in a sheer red floral dress with her dark hair hanging loose down her back. Two narrow strips of fabric barely cover her full breasts, and her back is completely bare to the waist. The long skirt has a high slit that shows off her shapely legs, and her beauty is intoxicating.

  Her arms are crossed, and she faces the water, while I lean beside her against the railing. I want to be angry with her for skipping town, but the story she’s unfolding and what I know of my brother’s work shoves all my feelings aside.

  “I haven’t replied to his texts. The number is blocked, but he’s following me. He knew I was here tonight.”

  “You know it’s a male?”

  “Trip seems to think it’s a man. He says it’s about Hana’s gambling debts. He said they’re after me because all our money comes from the same ‘honey pot.’”

  She makes a face like she’s quoting him, and my ears perk up. It’s the same language Dirk found in the intercepted texts.

  Anger tightens my jaw, and I’m ready to kick Trip’s punk ass into next week. “He knows who it is?”

  “Not exactly.” Her arms drop as she exhales. “He said he can guess based on who needs money. Knowing my sister, it could be any number of people.”

  “You’ll have to make a payment. How much do you have?”

  “I can send twenty-five thousand.”

  Nodding, I check my phone. “Dirk can trace it once you make the transfer, and he thinks this guy’s sloppy enough it’ll lead us right to him.”

  “I don’t want to give them any money. I don’t believe Hana would make a porn film. My sister does a lot of things, but she wouldn’t do that.”

  Her eyes flash defensively, and I look down. I won’t say what I'm thinking, since it only leads to more fighting. I don’t know what her sister might or might not do, and I’m not willing to put anything past her, especially not after all I’ve seen.

  “It’s the best chance we have of finding the guy. We can get your money back.”

  “I need you to give me some space for a few days.”

  That pulls me up short. “Give you space? We’re just about to bust this guy.”

  “There’s something worse than blackmail going on, but I’m not going to be able to find out what it is if you’re always hanging around me.”

  “Out of control gambling debts and porn films aren’t bad enough?”

  Silver-blue eyes meet mine, and she’s determined. “I’ll send the payment tonight. That’ll get you what you need. I need you to give me what I need. Will you do that for me?”

  My jaw grinds, and I’m ready to fight. “Space?”

  “Please.”

  Standing straighter, I rise to my full height. “I don’t like this. You’re not strong enough to handle these guys.”

  “And you’re not always right.”

  My body is tense. “I’m not leaving the city.”

  “As long as you keep your distance.” Blinking towards the ballroom, she nods. “If I’m right and they’re watching me, I need to send a strong signal that we’ve parted ways. For good.”

  Everything in me says this is a bad idea. I’m tense, ready to argue, but she looks up at me again, pleading.

  My shoulders drop, and I take a beat. “How are you going to make it look like we’re not working together?”