Right?

  Right …

  That had to be it.

  Two worlds. Colliding.

  Why was I getting that feeling?

  A bad sense of déjà vu, again. It was washing over me, giving me chills.

  Was that why I wasn’t saying anything? Fitz was here. He had a gun. I’m sure he could overpower him easily. But I knew this guy.

  I couldn’t shake this nagging voice in my head.

  How did I know him? Was that just the likeness to Kash?

  Was it?

  That didn’t feel right.

  It felt like there was more, something else here. Something I wasn’t remembering—and I remembered everything!

  Then we were at the bottom, and the elevator was opening.

  I had to alert Fitz. I had to say something. Only Kash knew about raccoons.

  Not Kash tightened his hold on me and walked forward.

  Kash would not do that. He had carried me. He had led me places. He had guided me. But he never dragged me somewhere, not in the state he had left me.

  “The street exit?” Fitz’s question was directed to Not Kash.

  “Yeah.”

  God. Even his bark was like Kash, the perfect pitch.

  I tried to eye him better, to pick up any differences in the face, but he kept his face turned down and away. He was keeping it at an angle on purpose, but it was good. He was good at this, and a chill went down my spine, adding to my alarms.

  I had to say something.

  How did I know him? And why was that bothering me so much?

  But Fitz was going to the exit door. He was opening it. There was a vehicle parked out there. I could see the red brake lights on. Someone was in there and waiting, and this was a setup.

  I couldn’t wait any longer, so I spoke, my voice coming out calm. “I know you’re not Kash.”

  He froze.

  I saw Fitz freeze, and then bam! Both sprang into action.

  It took a second for me to comprehend what happened, because I expected Fitz to take him down. That didn’t happen. In fact, pretty much the opposite.

  Fitz’s hand went up, but he went to his radio. He had the transmitter button pressed and was raising the unit to his mouth when Not Kash took Fitz down. Not the other way. Not the way I thought, because I fully expected it to be a done deal. I’d say the words and wham!, Not Kash would be unconscious at my feet.

  Not what happened.

  I was still processing that when he looked at me.

  Oh.

  Crappers.

  Now it was just me, him, that door, and whoever was on the other side of it.

  “Ahhh!” A bloodcurdling scream came from me, followed by, “Helllpmeee!”

  His face twisted in fury and he began reaching for me.

  I dove, and in the back of my mind, I now understood why Fitz went to radio for help—because he needed help! Because I needed help. I dove for his radio; there was a gun in his holster—Fitz’s jacket had opened in his fall—and I reached for that, too.

  In my head, I was going to dive, grab both, duck my head. I’d complete a full roll, like I’ve seen volleyball players do in their matches. Why I was remembering volleyball matches from high school, I had no clue, but anyway, that’s not what happened.

  First, Not Kash slammed his foot down on the radio.

  Okay. I’d work with that, because it took him a second away from where he could’ve used that kick to knock me unconscious. Instead, he stepped on the radio and kicked it away.

  And two, the gun was still in his holster. I grabbed it, tried to yank it free. It didn’t come free. It remained in the holster.

  How did these get free?

  But then Not Kash was reaching for me, and that’s when he messed up.

  His touch was gentle. That told me he didn’t want to hurt me. I could work with that. So when he went gentle, I became a snarling dirty street fighter. Or I was doing my best impression, because then I finally did finish my roll (just not with the gun or radio), and the movement yanked me out of his hold. But instead of scrambling and running, I twisted around and went for his ankle.

  I was the personification of an ankle biter.

  I bit his ankle. Literally.

  “Fuck,” he growled, then he grabbed my hair and I was being yanked away.

  He was fast losing the whole “gentle” approach, but he didn’t pull me to my feet, and I used that to my advantage, too. I kicked out at his legs, and the movement helped propel me out of his hold again. But then I was on my butt and he was looming over me.

  I was out of options.

  Our eyes met, and I opened my mouth.

  Another scream was coming out of me.

  He knew it. I knew it. We were both about to hear it.

  But then he lunged, grabbed me, dragged me up, and I was pushed against the wall.

  Déjà vu. For the third freaking time.

  His hand slammed over my mouth, and he bent low, whispering into my ear, “Shut up!”

  Except I wasn’t hearing that. I was hearing, “In two minutes, men will break into your home and take you hostage.”

  It was his height.

  It was his eyes.

  It was his voice, now that it was more rough and he wasn’t trying to disguise it.

  There was a sixth sense where you shouldn’t know but you just do. You just know it, and that feeling was inside of me. I knew this guy.

  My lungs stopped working.

  Everything stopped working.

  Recognition crashed into me, overloading my everything, and I swear I heard the circuit breakers in my brain frizz and snap as they stopped working, too.

  I knew this guy. I so knew him, and I had known I knew him, and I stopped thinking about what I was doing. I slapped his hand away, grabbed his shirt, and hissed, “I know you!”

  Articulate genius, I never claimed to be.

  His eyes widened, but I was still going. “It was you! You’re Chase.”

  “You got the upstairs, right, Chase?”

  Arcane team member Chase. Chase who broke into my house, told me he was supposed to rape me and I was about to be kidnapped. That Chase!

  “He better have, or was the two pumps not long enough?”

  Their sick laughter. I was hearing it all over again.

  I was back in my house.

  I was arching my back and screaming, “Aahhh!” A breath. “Heeelp me!”

  He went still, staring at me. It was like I had captured him and he was being held hostage. Then, “Shit” slipped from him.

  Shit?

  Shit!

  Shit?

  I frowned. “What do you mean, ‘shit’?”

  A door opened down the hallway. The nightclub’s music blared loud, and someone said “Hey!”

  Not Kash/Definitely Chase cursed again, but the door was pushed wider and we heard more shouting, then a stampede was happening, and all the hallway lights were switched on, and he was gone.

  I mean, it didn’t happen just like that. He didn’t vanish.

  His whole face pinched in on itself. He took two steps back, grabbed the door, opened the door, and was out the door. The SUV’s back door was shoved open and I surged forward.

  I had to see. I had to see.

  I saw—and my lungs seized.

  They stopped working, too, because there was no way.

  I was seeing a ghost.

  Chrissy Hayes was staring right at me, and there wasn’t a flicker of recognition on her face.

  My mother was alive.

  THIRTY-EIGHT

  Bailey

  “Bailey!”

  Kash was there and his arms were around me, and he was carrying me back inside the club.

  It was pandemonium all around me. Guards were running outside. Kash’s arms were tight around me, but he was barking orders at the same time. Guards were sent to every exit. Every floor. Every room. They were checking the entire club, and then checking the perimeter around the club. I knew all this, heard all this, because Kash refused to let me go.

  We were in the stairwell.

  Kash was bounding up them, two at a time, still with me in his arms. He was carrying me like I was a baby, and then we were in his office. He laid me back down right where the imposter had woken me. I kept that to myself, knowing Kash would further lose it.

  So I sat, and I waited.

  Fitz ran in, took Kash aside.

  “What the fuck happened out there?” Kash growled.

  Fitz’s head went down and he was talking, but in a rushed, panicked way. I knew he was giving Kash a report on what happened, and with a searching look at me, Fitz nodded when Kash told him to go. I didn’t hear his instructions for him, but I knew there were some. The rest of the arrivals started.

  Torie first. Melissa was right after.

  Tamara came with them; she started fixing my hair. Her eyes were worried. She was biting down on her lip in a fierce way, but she couldn’t sit. And she couldn’t stop touching me, so my hair was fixed one way and then another. My shirt was righted. She swept over my top, making sure the creases were all smooth. When she went to my ears, to fix my earrings, she had to pause. I didn’t have earrings, and she shot me a wry look.

  “Oh God, girl.”

  I held my arms up and she crumbled. She buried her head into my shoulder, her arms wound around me tight, and I held her as she cried.

  Torie came over, reaching around her roommate and took my hand. She was blinking back tears, giving me a shaky smile, and I saw the concern from her, too.

  I mouthed to her, “I’m fine.” I patted Tamara’s back. “Help her?”

  Torie blinked away more tears, clearing her face before she patted Tamara’s back. “Hon. Tam. We gotta go.”

  Tamara let go of me, reluctantly, but she was nodding as Torie grew more insistent. “Yeah. Okay.” Tamara eased up from the couch but looked back at me. “If you need anything—anything—you’ll call us?”

  I nodded, my throat swelling.

  I think I’d been in shock, but now emotions were starting to swarm up.

  I rasped out, “I will.”

  Melissa came in, but she just gave me a quick hug. She cupped the back of my neck and whispered, “I’ll see you later in class, but hang in there. I’m here if you need anything. Call me. Promise, please?”

  Again, my throat was damn near choking me. I whispered, “I promise.”

  Matt was next.

  He pushed inside, Chester, Guy, and Tony behind him.

  At the sight of the last three, a growl came from Kash, who was standing halfway between me and the door. He was surrounded by guards. Matt and the guys all stopped short. Everyone stopped short.

  The growl was primal sounding. Savage.

  Matt’s eyebrows went up, but he indicated for them to hold back. He went to Kash first. Their heads bent together. After a nod from Kash, Matt headed over to me.

  “Hey.” He sat next to me, pulling me into his arms.

  Okay. It hit me then.

  Not the emotions. Those were there, but I was stuffing them down.

  All these people coming up here, they were the emotional ones. They were the ones needing to be reassured I was okay. They were coming over, hugging me, and that was all for them. Kash was ready to rip someone’s head off, but I knew he was handling business until it was just him and me. As if he could sense I was thinking of him, I felt his eyes on me. Looking over Matt’s head, I met Kash’s gaze, and whoa.

  Pinned. Down.

  His eyes were smoldering.

  He swallowed to get control of himself.

  “Oh, Bailey.” Matt pulled me closer and shoved my head into the crook of his shoulder and chest. He started petting me. “I’m here for you. I’m here for my sister. I’m so sorry. That’s so scary.”

  Yeah. It was. But my hands started shaking.

  It was building in me. Fury.

  I was pissed.

  My mom was alive, and I hadn’t said one word to anyone. Kash caught me up, whisked me here, and I’d been too stunned to start talking. Everything happened at a whirlwind pace, but now thoughts and emotions were catching up together. They were syncing, and I was livid.

  I tore out of Matt’s hold. “I need my computer.”

  I swung around.

  The room had gone quiet.

  I said to Kash, “Raccoon.”

  His eyebrows snapped down together. He took one step, made one bark. “Out! Everyone out.”

  Everyone scrambled.

  In two seconds, we were alone, except for Matt.

  He lingered, standing slowly. “Uh, guys—”

  “You, too.” Kash nodded toward the door.

  “But—”

  “Matt.”

  My brother pointed between me and him. “We’re Team Ba—”

  “Not the fucking time!” Another one of those growls.

  “Okay.” He turned for the door. “I’m going, but honestly.” He whirled one last time, his hand on the doorknob. “Are you okay?”

  I was already standing, but I felt myself rising inside.

  I tipped my chin up. “I’m good.”

  He paused, then nodded. “Alright. I’ll leave it at that.” He pounded the door with his palm before leaving, then the door was shut.

  Kash moved to lock it. “What’s going on?”

  I felt alive.

  My body was trembling with the feel of it, and I was fighting to stop from pouncing on him. We didn’t have time for that.

  “Remember that guy that tried to kidnap me with Arcane? The one who was in on the first attempt but not the second?”

  His frown was fierce. “Chase, right? That’s the name you told the police.”

  “Well,” I locked eyes with him, “your twin brother is Chase, and my mom is alive.”

  THIRTY-NINE

  Kash

  This was the moment I had feared.

  I couldn’t shake it, and hearing that my twin had come in, that he had touched Bailey, gotten near her, this was my fear. Calhoun had taken everything from me. Both my parents. He had taken my own brother. I didn’t know of him before now, but it didn’t matter. He was stripped from me. And now that same brother had impersonated me, tricked my own men, got through to one of my buildings, and I heard Victoria’s warning.

  It was a fucking premonition of sorts.

  He wanted to replace me.

  This was it. This was what my grandfather always wanted. This was why he had allowed me to live so long, because it never made sense to me. He had allowed me to live.

  “How are you handling all this?”

  Detectives Bright and Wilson came as soon as they were called. My guards were all debriefed on my twin brother, who to look for, and since then we’d been sequestered inside my office while Bailey gave the FBI a formal report. This wasn’t a local kidnapping attempt, not anymore. This was so much more, and I wanted answers.

  I would fucking get answers.

  Instead of answering Bright’s question, I pivoted with one of my own. “How was an entire body taken into evidence and processed and no one reported that it wasn’t Chrissy Fucking Hayes?” I ground out, my teeth grinding against each other. “How is it that Bailey witnessed her own mother get shot in the head and now she’s seen alive and well?”

  And in the backseat with my goddamn enemy?

  “Well…” Bright’s eyes flashed before she got ahold of herself. She ducked her head, glancing back to where Wilson was writing on his notepad, sitting on the couch beside Bailey. “Are we sure she actually saw her mother?”

  I nodded my head. “She saw her.”

  “How do you know?” She edged closer, lowering her voice. “M.E.’s report was solid. DNA matched Chrissy Hayes, along with her own daughter’s eyewitness testimony of seeing her mother executed.”

  Jesus.

  I ground my teeth again.

  If Bailey had heard that word. Executed.

  “You’ll watch how you talk about Chrissy Hayes’s supposed murder when you’re in the presence of her own daughter.” My tone was scathing, and her head whipped back. Her eyes widened.

  She got the message. Respect or get out.

  “We’re running road cams, all the typical stuff we’d be doing. We need to verify what Bailey saw is who she actually saw and not a play of shadows or something.”

  “It wasn’t.”

  I knew it in my bones, just like that other feeling. The end was coming.

  “We have to make sure—”

  “It wasn’t.”

  “Your girlfriend’s been in mourning. It makes more sense that she wanted to see her mother and so her subconscious produced what she wanted.”

  “She didn’t and it didn’t. She saw her mother.”

  “How do you know, Kash?”

  I heard the inflection in her tone.

  I rounded on her. “Because I know Bailey. That’s not a daughter in mourning anymore. If there was doubt, she wouldn’t be looking like that. Look at her, Bright.” I nodded toward Bailey.

  Bright turned.

  I kept talking. “She’s ready to set fire to the earth and burn with it. If there was any chance she didn’t see Chrissy or she doubted herself, none of that would be there. She’d be curled up in a ball, because trust me, it’s been a long process to get her uncurled from that ball. No.” A decisive shake of my head. “She’s itching for you and Wilson to get out of here, and then I know she’s going to launch herself into whatever and however she can help to find her mom.”

  And we were wasting her time.

  I cursed again.

  Bailey wanted to hack. Hell, that wasn’t even it anymore. She needed to hack. I could see it pulling at her. She wanted to fuck or fight. It was the most human part of us, and taking her to bed wasn’t prudent right now. That meant fighting.

  Which meant hacking for Bailey.

  I needed to get these FBI agents out of here.

  “Are you sure?” Wilson was repeating some question to Bailey, whose eyes were flashing from annoyance.

  “I’m sure!” Her tone was snapping.

  That was enough.

  I started for them.

  Bright’s hand touched my arm, stopping me.

  I looked at it, looked at her. “Get your hand off of me. Now.”

  She did, jerking backward from the severity of my tone. She tucked her own phone into her pocket and her lips parted, glaring at me. “We will handle this, Kash.”