Текст книги "Wanted"

Автор книги: J. Kenner

Соавторы: J. Kenner
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Текущая страница: 17 (всего у книги 20 страниц)

He continued to face forward, but his voice had the same edge that I was feeling. “Answer the question.”

“I—yes,” I snapped. “You know I have a job. And in a few days, I’ll even have a place to live.”

He put the car back into gear and pulled out onto the street. I sat frozen, certain that we’d just crossed some line in the sand that I hadn’t even realized he’d drawn. When we reached my condo, he passed the valet stand and pulled to the curb. He sat silently, and it took me a second to realize he was waiting for me to get out.

“What the fuck, Evan?”

“You’re not being true to yourself, Lina,” he said, turning to face me. “Don’t expect more from me than you’re willing to give yourself.”

eighteen

You’re not being true to yourself.

For the rest of the night and into the next day, his words ran through my head over and over, like some horrible children’s ditty that had turned into a pernicious earworm.

You’re not being true to yourself.

At first I was pissed. I paced and I drank and I managed not to throw things, but only because I liked all the things that were in Jahn’s condo, and I’d already sacrificed one coffee cup to Evan Black.

So I worked off my anger by burning calories, stalking wildly around the condo, muttering to myself like a madwoman and making up some pretty damn fine curses in the process.

You’re not being true to yourself.

Then I sat. And I tried to watch television in order to drown out the annoying little voice that kept popping into my head, telling me that he was right.

But the voice was too loud and I couldn’t concentrate. Not on CNN, not on streaming episodes of Buffy. Not even on the fine figure of Gordon Ramsay cursing out all those little chef wannabes.

You’re not being true to yourself.

Goddamn Evan Black.

He was right.

He was right, but I was scared to change. I’d been living my life under someone else’s terms for so long that I wasn’t sure I knew how to do anything else. For that matter, I wasn’t sure I knew how to be me.

Dear god, I’d made a mess of it. My parents hadn’t lost just one daughter, they’d lost two. Because they didn’t even know Angelina, not anymore. I’d been trying so hard to be Gracie for them that I’d completely buried their youngest daughter.

You’re not being true to yourself.

Yeah, wasn’t that the understatement of the year? And it had only taken falling in love to make me finally see it.

“Ms. Raine?”

I was on the patio, standing by the glass barrier, looking out over the lake, though I wasn’t really seeing it. Now I turned in response to Peterson’s voice. “Yes?”

“Can I bring you anything? You should eat some lunch.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You didn’t have breakfast.” He paused. “Is there something I can help you with, perhaps?”

“No.” He couldn’t help me, and I was having one hell of a time helping myself. For that matter, I was having a hell of a time getting my head on straight.

I knew what I wanted—I wanted to stay. I wanted Evan. I wanted to work for the foundation.

I wanted to be true to myself. But I was scared of stepping off the path I’d paved for myself. And I was terrified of disappointing my parents.

There was only one person I knew who could help me. Only one person who could hold me tight and keep me firmly safe while I took the kind of risk that I was thinking about taking.

I needed to jump—and I knew with absolute certainty that I could only do that if Evan was beside me.

“Peterson,” I called, turning around and catching him before he moved efficiently back inside. “Wait. There is something you can do for me.”

“Whatever you need, Ms. Raine.”

“I need a car.”

The driver took me to Evan’s downtown office first, but unless his secretary was covering for him, he wasn’t there.

I tried the boat next, and didn’t find him there, either.

“Shall I take you back home, miss?”

“No,” I said sharply. I pulled out my cell phone and almost dialed. But I didn’t want to give him the opportunity to tell me to stay away. “We’re going to Destiny,” I said, then settled back for the ride.

I hoped like hell he was there, because if he wasn’t, I was all out of ideas. And while I had reached the point of begging Cole for help, I really didn’t want to go that route unless it was absolutely necessary.

I didn’t see Evan’s car as we drove up, but I also didn’t have a full view of the rear parking lot. I thanked the driver and, since I was all about the power of positive thinking, I told him not to wait. Then I stepped inside, paid my cover—this time to a petite brunette—and pushed through the doors into the main room.

It looked just the same as it had before. The girls were still dancing. The men were still watching. Everything seemed exactly the same as it had been the last time I’d been here. The only thing that had changed was me.

“I know you.”

I glanced up to see a familiar blonde in a tiny miniskirt and nothing else.

It took me a second, but I finally recognized her as the girl who’d worked the entrance my last time here. “Hi,” I said. “I’m looking for Evan.”

“Again?”

“Excuse me?”

She shrugged. “He’s in a meeting right now,” the girl said, and I silently cheered. At least he was somewhere on the premises.

“I’ll just wait at the bar.” I took a step in that direction, and the girl fell in beside me.

“Um, is that okay?”

Instead of answering, she looked me up and down. “So you’re the flavor of the month.”

I blinked at her. “Excuse me?”

“It’s just that he fucks a lot of women. None of us, of course. Rules and all that shit. But he brings them here. Gets them all hot, you know?”

I didn’t say a word.

“Anyway, the point is it never lasts. I mean, I’m not telling you anything you didn’t already know, am I? He was up front, right? About the fact that you’re just a temporary thing.”

I swear there were giant rocks just sitting in my stomach. “Is there some reason we’re having this conversation?” It was surreal. I was sitting at a barstool talking about sleeping with Evan to a woman whose breasts were only inches from my face. What the fuck was wrong with that picture?

She shrugged. “Consider me a walking, talking public service announcement. Because if he didn’t tell you, then you should know. Because there’s only one woman for Evan. He may burn through a dozen pussies, but in the end, she’s the one he goes back to, every goddamn time. I mean, hell, he’s even got her tattooed on his arm.”

“He’s got—wait. What?”

“Ivy,” the blonde said. “That tattoo on his arm. It’s for his girl. What? You didn’t know?”

“I knew,” I said, sliding off the stool. “And I know that I need to go talk to him now.”

She didn’t try to stop me as I went through the same door that Evan had taken me through the last time I was here. I remembered seeing offices back there, and since I didn’t have a better idea, I assumed that he was in one of them.

I pushed through, found no one on the other side to stop me, and kept on going.

Ivy. What the hell? I thought of the tattoo on his arm. I’d even asked him about it, and he hadn’t told me that it referred to a woman.

Shit.

And did that mean that Evan was lying to me—or was the blond bitch the liar?

I knew the answer I wanted. I even knew the answer I believed.

I just wasn’t sure if what I believed was true.

I heard voices from behind the closed conference room door, and I paused, my head cocked as I tried to discern if Evan’s voice was among them.

Then the door jerked open—Evan was right there—and I jumped so high I almost bumped my head on the ceiling.

“Lina?”

“Holy fucking crap, Evan,” I shouted, more because I was embarrassed at getting caught than because I was actually scared.

Behind him, I saw Tyler and Cole at a conference table that was covered with blueprints and technical drawings and all sorts of sketches.

They all three looked frazzled. And none of them looked happy to see me.

“What are you doing here?” Evan said.

I swallowed, feeling like I’d been tossed into the middle of the school play, but no one had told me my lines. This wasn’t the way I’d imagined this. In the story in my head, I’d gone to him, confessed that he was right, and then folded myself into his arms.

Now I wondered if he’d even missed me at all.

Now I wondered about Ivy.

“I made a mistake,” I said, forcing the word out past the tears in my throat. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come.”

I caught a flash of worry in his eyes, but I didn’t have time to think about it. I turned and ran toward the back door, then pushed through it and out into the bright afternoon sun.

Immediately, I knew I’d screwed up. The building was huge, and if I was going to get to the street, I had to go all the way around it. “Shit,” I snapped, even though I was the only one to hear it. I dug into my purse for my phone as I started to circle the building. I’d call a taxi. I’d call Peterson. I’d do something to get the fuck out of there, because I couldn’t stay. But I also couldn’t really move, because the tears had started to flow, and the world was blurry, and all I wanted to do was sit down on the asphalt and cry until everything stopped hurting.

“Baby.”

Evan’s arms went around me, strong and firm, and though I wanted to shake them off, I let him hold me as I made my way down to the curb where the sidewalk met the parking lot.

“Sweetheart, what are you doing here?”

I pulled away from him, but then I had to hug myself, because as soon as his arms were no longer around me, I felt lost again.

“Lina? Jesus, Angie, talk to me. You’re starting to scare me.”

I sucked in a deep, stuttering breath, pushed my hair off my face, and turned to face him. “Who is she?” I demanded, forcing my voice to stay steady. “Who is Ivy?”

His eyes widened, and he said very slowly and very carefully—as if I was a bomb that might go off at any moment—“Why do you want to know?”

I told myself I wasn’t going to scream. That I was going to be rational. That I trusted him and I wasn’t going to be one of those women who flew off the handle in a fit of jealous rage.

I told myself that, but I was having one hell of a hard time implementing it.

I reached out and touched his arm. It was hidden by his shirt sleeve, but I almost felt as if I could feel the tattoo burning into me. “I need to know that you weren’t just playing me, Evan. I mean—I guess if you were then it was my own damn fault. I’m the one who said I wanted this to be temporary, right? I’m the one who said three weeks.”

I pushed up off the curb and turned to look at him. I felt the tears trickle down my face, but I wasn’t sobbing anymore. I was a wreck, but at least I was a wreck with some semblance of control.

“But then you asked if I was staying, and I guess I thought—I mean, maybe I hoped—”

“What?” he asked.

It was just one word, but he said it with such soft hope that it gave me courage.

“I came here because you’re right. Because I’m not being true to myself. I want art, not politics. Beauty, not bills and bartering. And so I came here to tell you that. Because, because—” I shook my head, not yet ready to put everything into words. “But maybe I presumed too much. Because I didn’t know about her. I didn’t know about—”

“Ivy,” he said, and I had to close my eyes to block the pain of that one simple word.

His hands closed over my shoulders. “Look at me,” he said.

I hesitated, then slowly opened my eyes. I saw warmth in his face. Warmth and desire and what looked remarkably like happiness. I think I may have even seen love.

And then, without warning or pretense, he leaned in and kissed me so gently it almost made me cry again.

“Come on,” he said after he pulled away. He twined his fingers in mine and started to walk toward his car.

“Where are we going?”

“I have a few things to tell you,” he said. “I think we’ll start with Ivy.”

The car ride was quiet, primarily because Evan wasn’t saying a damn thing and neither was I. He seemed content to wait. I was afraid to break the silence in case I was wrong and it hadn’t been happiness I’d seen in his eyes. And if he was taking me to meet the girlfriend he had secreted away in a tower, then I didn’t want to know about it until the last possible second.

Mostly, though, I was willing to just surrender. I’d worked myself into a frenzy over something I was beginning to believe was a misunderstanding. And I’d twisted my own life and future around because of guilt and fear. I needed to learn to step back—and Evan was the only one I trusted.

I hoped like hell I wasn’t wrong.

But when we reached Evanston, I couldn’t stand it any longer. “How much farther?”

“Five minutes.”

I swallowed, then nodded. “Okay,” I said, and was irritated by the way my voice broke. I glanced sideways at him. “Don’t break my heart.”

“Never,” he said, with such firm certainty that an errant tear escaped down my cheek.

I brushed it away, annoyed at myself for being an emotional mess.

We were in a neighborhood near Northwestern now, and he pulled onto a side street and then up to the gate of a stunning mansion with a beautiful manicured lawn. “We’re here,” he said, as he keyed in a gate code. The gate swung open and he pulled up toward the house, and as the driveway angled around, I caught sight of a pool, a tennis court, and a guesthouse on the property.

“Where are we?” I asked.

“My house,” he said, and then killed the engine.

“Yours?” I wasn’t expecting that. “But the houseboat …?”

“I prefer to stay there.” He opened his door and got out of the car. “Come on.”

I took a deep breath and followed him, not at all sure what to expect but certain of only one thing. If I tried to guess, I would undoubtedly be wrong.

The front door had a keypad lock and he punched in the code and then stepped inside. I followed, then looked around in silent awe at the beautiful interior. I’d grown up in a fabulous home, and the condo I now lived in was stunning. But the interior of Evan’s home was an absolutely perfect mix of beauty and comfort. It reflected money and taste along with an ultimate sense of home. It felt cozy and inviting. And that just made it more odd to me that he didn’t want to actually live there full-time.

“It’s me,” he called, his volume surprising me. “Who’s home?”

A moment later, a large woman in black drawstring pants and a scrub-style top came in from an adjoining room with a dishtowel in her hands. “Mr. Evan! Why didn’t you call? I would have held dinner for you.”

“Don’t worry, Ava. I’ll fix us something later.” He indicated me. “This is Angelina Raine. She’ll be staying the night.”

Before I could react to that news, Ava took my hand and was clutching it warmly. “How wonderful! We’ve heard so much about you.”

I glanced at Evan in surprise. “Thank you. I appreciate you putting up with us on such short notice.”

She waved the words away, and I thought she was going to say something else, but the pounding of feet on the floor above us caught all of our attention. The pounding was followed by a woman’s voice calling, “Evan! Evan!”

Ivy, I assumed, but there was something odd about the voice that I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

And then there she was hurrying down the stairs with the same excitement as a child expecting presents. Her hair was long and unkempt, and it was hanging in such a way as to cover her face. She wore a pink sweatshirt with a giant purple heart on it and Converse tennis shoes. She skidded to a stop in front of us and pushed her hair back out of her face—and when she did, I had to force myself not to gasp.

The woman’s face was so scarred that it was almost unrecognizable as female. She had only half of her nose, her eyebrows were completely missing, and her mouth was twisted now in a strange contortion of a smile. That contortion, however, was filled with so much joy at the sight of Evan that it seemed to light her up from the inside, and made tears sting my eyes. After stopping for just a second, she launched herself into his arms crying, “I missed you! What did you bring me? What did you bring me?”

“Something very cool,” he said, reaching into his pocket. He pulled out his wallet, opened it, and took out a two dollar bill. “Do you know what this is?” he asked, handing it to her?

She studied it intently. “Money.”

He laughed. “Well, yeah. But how much?”

Her scarred eyes widened just a little. “Two! Wow! I’ve never seen that before! Is it real? Will it buy Twizzlers?”

“It is and it will.”

“Thank you!” She threw her arms around his neck. “I love you! I miss you!”

“I love you and miss you, too. And guess what else I brought you?” he asked as she released her grip. He nodded toward me. “A new friend.”

She turned to me and smiled wide, revealing remarkably perfect teeth. “Hi! You’re pretty!”

I had to laugh. “Thank you,” I said. “So are you,” I added, and was rewarded with her vibrant smile. “And I love Twizzlers, too.”

“Really? Wow! How old are you?” she asked.

“Almost twenty-four,” I said.

“No kidding?” she asked, as if that was the most amazing thing in the world. “I’m twenty! That’s a two and a zero because it’s two groups of ten, right Evan?”

“Absolutely perfect. This is Angelina,” he added, indicating me. “Lina, I’d like to introduce you to my sister. This is Melissa Ivy Black.”

nineteen

We spent the next few hours in the backyard with Ivy alternating between tossing a Frisbee, playing in a sandbox, and answering knock-knock jokes. I didn’t ask Evan any more questions—I wouldn’t have known where to start. And I knew now that he’d tell me in his own way in his own time.

“Ivy!” Ava called from the kitchen. “Time for your medicine and bed.”

“Can I watch SpongeBob?” she asked Evan.

“If Ava says so,” he answered, standing. “Come on, we’ll walk you in.” He took her hand, and when she reached out her other one for me, I took it, as well. It was as scarred as the rest of her, and I had the horrible feeling that if we peeled off that layer of clothes, her whole body would be scar tissue. The thought made me unbelievably sad.

Ivy, however, was as happy and bouncy as a child. “Will you be here tomorrow?” she asked me.

I glanced at Evan.

“We’ll be here for breakfast,” he said. “Then I have to get back to work.”

“You work too much,” she said.

He laughed. “I’m trying to fix that. As soon as I do, I’ll have more time to spend with you.”

“Yay!” She clapped her hands and then ran ahead into the kitchen after Ava.

“She’s wonderful,” I said when she was gone.

“She’s basically six,” he said with affection. “Which means that although she was wonderful tonight, tomorrow morning when we leave we’ll probably see a full-blown tantrum.”

He reached out for my hand, then smiled when I took it. “Nobody knows about her,” he said. “Nobody except Tyler and Cole.”

“And Jahn?”

Evan nodded.

I remembered what he’d said about not trusting easily, and I understood in that moment the extent of the gift he was giving me. Not just his trust, but the chance to fully see this man.

“I thought your mom and sister lived in another state.”

“And I worked damn hard to make sure the entire world thought that.”

“Why?”

We’d reached the back porch steps and he sat down, then scooted over to make room for me. “To keep her safe,” he said. “There are risks to what I do. And sometimes the blowback is on your family.”

“You’re talking the criminal stuff,” I said boldly.

“I am,” he said. “And yes, I’ll tell you. But first I want to know how you found out about Ivy. Not Kevin?”

“No,” I said quickly, understanding his fear. “It was one of the girls at work. A blonde. She was working the front that first time I came.”

“Donna,” he said. “She’s something of a bitch, and she’s been trying to get into my bed for over a year.”

“I thought you didn’t sleep with the girls.”

“I don’t,” he said. “And neither do Cole or Tyler. Tyler had a thing once with one of the waitresses right after we bought the place. It didn’t end well.” He turned to face me. “Just so we’re crystal clear on this, I’ve gone out with a lot of women, and I’ve fucked a lot of women. But it never meant anything more than a good time and someone to have a meal with. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

I licked my lips, trying to slow the rapid patter of my heartbeat. “I’m not sure. I don’t want to guess and be wrong.”

His smile was warm. “I mean that there’s never been another woman. It’s always been you, Lina. Even before I realized it, you were always there inside me.”

I closed my eyes and drew in a breath, realizing that I felt relaxed now for the first time since Cole had come into the pub and dragged Evan to the parking lot. “I’ve missed you,” I said. “You’ve been right beside me for hours now, but I’ve missed you all the same.”

“I’ve missed you, too.” He stood and then tugged me to my feet.

“Will you tell me what happened to her?”

“Yeah,” he said as he led me inside and upstairs. “I’ll tell you everything.”

The bedroom that he took me to was small, with a double bed, a desk, and very little else. “This was my room growing up,” he said. “I never bothered to do much to it, but I crash here when I visit.”

“Who has the master?”

“No one right now. My mother passed away about a year ago, and Ivy and I haven’t spent much time in there.”

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“Thanks.” He stretched out on the bed, propped up on his elbow. I sat beside him, cross-legged, with my elbows propped on my knees. “The story starts and ends with Ivy, which is why I wanted you to meet her. You’ve read about the fire?”

“Sure. Every article talks about it. I’m sorry about your father.”

“You don’t need to be sorry for him,” Evan said harshly. “But Ivy …” He trailed off, then drew in a deep breath as if gathering his thoughts. Or maybe his courage.

“It’s okay,” I said. “If you don’t want to talk about it, I understand.”

He reached out and put his hand on my knee, and that one simple touch felt as intimate as all the times we’d made love. “I want you to know,” he said. “She was six, and because she has an autoimmune disease, they were limited in the amount of reconstructive surgery they could do—her body kept rejecting it. She inhaled a lot of smoke, too. For that matter, she was clinically dead for well over a minute before they revived her. The result was brain damage, and the manifestation is that she’s going to stay six for a very long time. She may grow a little bit more mentally, but nine is about the best case scenario. To be honest, I’m not seeing it, and neither are her tutors. But I love her, and no matter what happens, I’ll take care of her.”

“It was an electrical fire, right?”

“That’s the story my mother and I spread.”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that my fucking father decided to kill himself and almost took Ivy along with him.”

I stared at him, horrified.

He sat up, then scooted back so that he was leaning against the headboard. He was no longer touching me. One hand was above his head, clutching tight to one of the brass bars that made up the bed frame. The other was idly twisting the spread into a knot. I don’t think he was aware of either.

“He was in banking. Made a fortune and then when he lost it all he was too much of a coward to try to dig himself back out. So he killed himself. Went to the guesthouse and took a bottle of sleeping pills. But he had a cigarette and managed to set the bedspread on fire. Ivy used to sneak into the guesthouse to play, and she was in there.”

“My god.” I couldn’t even imagine how scared that poor little girl had been. “Does she remember?”

“Not much, thank god.”

“And your mother?”

“She was a mess. She’d never worked a day in her life, and it turned out that my brilliant father had borrowed against his life insurance so that we were left with absolutely nothing except a bunch of debt and a shit-ton of medical bills.”

“The articles hinted that your mom had a trust fund, and that helped keep you guys afloat.” I looked at his face. “Oh, crap. You made that part up, too.”

“He didn’t leave us shit, but I needed a story. I didn’t want people looking too hard at what I was doing.”

“So what were you doing?” I asked, though I was pretty sure I could guess. Maybe not the specifics, but enough to know he wasn’t working minimum wage in fast food.

“My sister pretty much lived in the hospital, and my mom fell into an alcoholic haze. I was fifteen, and I’d been your typical, spoiled, rich kid asshole. I had too much money, bought alcohol illegally, and smoked pot behind the school with my friends. I could either stay a disconnected asshole or I could get my shit together and become the man of the family. I chose the second.”

“But most fifteen-year-olds work at McDonalds. And that wasn’t going to pay the bills.”

“No,” he said. “It wasn’t.”

“And since the universe doesn’t play fair,” I began, remembering what he’d told me.

“I didn’t have to play fair, either.”

“Go on.” I scooted closer to him and rested my palm gently on his leg. “I want to know how you survived.”

“Need and adrenaline,” he said, then grinned. “And every time I did something dangerous and came out okay on the other side, I felt like I’d put one over on the universe and was that much stronger for it. I started taking chances to get a thrill and to get money. I did everything imaginable. Jacking cars, dealing drugs. Hell, I even got a bit of a reputation as a cat burglar—not that anyone ever found out it was me doing the sneaking around.”

“It didn’t scare you?”

“Just the opposite.” His grin was boyish. “I like the rush, too.”

He told me more and more. About how high school turned out to be the best possible place, because he could research anything and everything and taught himself how to boost cars and disable alarm systems. He even dabbled in counterfeiting. And all the while he was keeping detailed records, figuring out which endeavors brought in the most money so that he could most efficiently take care of his mom and sister.

“I screwed up senior year, though. I got hooked up with the wrong crowd—folks who weren’t nearly as careful as I was.”

“Did you get arrested?”

“And convicted.”

“Really?” I grabbed a pillow and hugged it to my chest. Heart was pounding against my rib cage in memory of my own arrest, and I couldn’t believe he was talking so calmly about a conviction. “You weren’t scared to death?”

“It wasn’t a pleasure ride if that’s what you mean. But it did change my life.”

He had ended up in a juvenile pilot program and was shipped off to a scared straight camp where he met Cole and Tyler. “The lessons of the camp didn’t really stick,” he said. “But the friendship did.”

“In other words, three of the most upstanding businessmen in Chicago aren’t that upstanding, after all.”

“I’d say that was accurate,” he acknowledged with a grin. “Not as much for me anymore. I’ve been selling off my share of our more shady enterprises to Cole and Tyler. And I’ve been legitimizing my own operations. To be honest, I’ve reached the point where I get just as much of a rush from negotiating a hard bargain with a competitor as I do from stealing his assets when he’s not looking. Maybe more.”

“Why?”

“Why is there a rush?”

“Why are you going straight?”

“You met her,” he said. “Ivy.”

I nodded, but I still didn’t understand. “Why now?”

“Because my mother died. When she was alive, I knew that Ivy would always have family. But now that she’s gone, I want to guarantee that I’m not going to be serving time in a minimum security cell when she needs me.”

“But even if you get clean, they can still arrest you.”

He laughed. “Thanks for the reality check.”

I cringed. “Sorry. It’s just that I remember what it was like when they put me in that cell. And the idea of having you arrested—freaks me out.”

He reached for my hand. “It freaks me out, too. That’s the point. That’s why I want out.”

“Evan—” His name felt delicious. The world felt delicious. And, yeah, I was still a little bit scared for him, but so long as he was really getting out …

“What are you thinking?” he asked, and I realized my brow was furrowed.

“Just that if you’re getting out, then you probably are safe. I mean, if everything you’ve done was white collar, they probably don’t care about stuff that’s old news, right? And eventually the statute of limitations will run out. Won’t it? I mean that’s all we’re talking about, right? White collar stuff?”

He nodded.

“So what do you do? Or, I guess I should ask, what did you do?”

“We started out with petty stuff, but we expanded into everything from smuggling to money laundering to backroom gambling. No drugs—that’s our line in the sand. And, once we hooked up with your uncle, we went a bit more high class. He introduced us to the world of art. Including the underworld of art.”

“Wait. Wait, back up. What? Uncle Jahn?” I couldn’t quite believe what he was saying. “Uncle Jahn was tied up with you three?”

“The other way around, baby. Your uncle was our mentor, and pretty much the smartest man I know. That class he taught? He used it as a front. It was a legit class, but if he was working with someone, he’d slide them into the class to establish a reason to be seen together. It worked beautifully, and no one was ever the wiser.”

“How long was he doing it?” I asked. I realized that I’d slid off the bed and was pacing the length of the small room.

“About eight years on the classes, but decades with the smuggling and forgeries and everything else. From what he told us, he started dabbling in art theft when he was about thirteen.”

“Holy shit.” There was a chair tucked in under a small desk. I pulled it out and flopped down onto it.

How could I have not known this man that I’d loved so well? Then I remembered what he’d said about his wives leaving him. Secrets. “Holy shit,” I repeated. My uncle had lived a shadow life that even the people who were seemingly the closest to him knew nothing about. The thought made me sad. Especially since I’d kept so many secrets, too.

“So how close are you to getting out from under all this?” I asked. I wanted him out. I wanted him done. And I’m not sure if it made me a bad person, but I didn’t want him out because of any moral qualms against his criminal past. No, I wanted him out because I knew that Kevin had painted a bull’s-eye on him, and I wanted to deflect that attention.

“Close,” he said, and I breathed a little easier. “You’ve already heard a bit about the problems at Destiny.”