Live Wire (Ramsey Security #2)

Patting her hand, I smile drunkenly. "You're good at reading people."

"Yes, I am. You are too. You're nicer than you let on too. Like when you lied to Darla that day at the aquarium about your lost love. Why do that, if you're not secretly a sweetie pie?"

Recalling that single act of kindness, I explain, "Darla knew what she wanted, but Troy scared her. I simply scared her back in his direction." I pause while studying my chip. "I guess I am a sweetie pie."

Minka watches me for a long time while I lean back and rest my head on the back of the booth. My gaze focuses on the crowd of happy people. Forever watching, rather than participating, I'm always the outsider.

"If I was you," Minka says finally, "I'd play this thing out with Brad. Don't think about his mom or if he can handle the real you. No, instead you ought to enjoy every damn minute because you've faced death a bunch of times, and this could be your only reward. If I met a guy that I wanted like you want Brad, I'd hold onto him. I deserve good shit in life, and so does Little Maven. Leave your sins in the past where they belong."

Watching her through my alcohol haze, I smile. "Having a girlfriend is fun."

"Yeah, but I'm planning on having only a select few. Too many vaginas would likely make me go homicidal."

"You, me, Harlow, and Darla."

Minka thinks about Rafael's wife and Troy's woman. She nods at the idea of them making the grade. I keep smiling because I'm too drunk to control my mouth. If Brad were here right now, I'd likely tell him how beautiful he is and how much I like him. After saying all sorts of stupid stuff, I'd suck on his lips until we were naked. Even enticed by the naked part, I plan to keep my distance until the trip is complete and he's safely back in Houston.





17


Brad

Fiercely Mine

The Ramsey Security team offers a private jet for the flight to New York City. They claim it belongs to a friend. I don't ask questions, though Nell does. She worries about the favors we're calling in, and what they'll cost her. Marx only laughs and says she watches too many movies. He loves the idea of these badass people with their killer contacts.

I hate flying, and take pills for airsickness and nerves. Imagining Saskia traveling the world, I can't have her see me freaking out over turbulence or a busy airport. Lawrence warned me not to play a part, but the real Brad is a chickenshit too often. The Brad needing to woo Saskia fears nothing. I'll lie if it means I get the girl in the end.

We arrive in the city hours later and check into the hotel. My first concern is how closely Saskia's and my rooms are situated. During the flight and arrival at the hotel, she refuses to make eye contact and keeps her distance. I'm not fooled though.

The interviews take place in one of the hotel's conference rooms. The publicist and Mom organize everything. All I have to do is sit next to Marx and answer the same questions from each reporter.

Saskia catches my eye. Wearing a white sweater, beige leggings, and knee-high brown boots, she's the picture of elegance. I can't look away, even when the first reporter enters. I only want to watch Saskia own the room.

The questions are pretty standard.

"What have you done the last ten years?"

I keep my answer short and to the point, just as Mom instructed. She doesn't trust reporters, and Marx is dying to do most of the talking anyway. After I tell the reporters how I've been writing songs for country musicians, they immediately want to know if I'll return to acting.

"I have no interest in being in front of the camera."

"What do you hope to gain with your book?"

"I wanted to confront what happened, and Marx helped me put it all together."

Hearing his name, Marx takes over by explaining how he researched the police records and learned all he could about the cult's possible origins. While he talks out of his ass, my thoughts linger on Saskia.

The day moves slowly but surely as one reporter after another arrives, sets up, asks their questions, and leaves. I'm on autopilot by the third interview. Mostly, I'm wondering if I can talk Saskia into having dinner with me. The city scares the shit out of me, but this place has a romantic element that I'd be a fool not to capitalize on.

So lost in my head, I don't know many interviews we've done when I hear a name that knocks the wind out of me.

"Let me ask you about Dennis Stein," Jackie says, and I truly focus on the reporter for the first time.

Dennis's face flashes before me. I remember him showing me the blade he intended to use to cut symbols into my back and chest. I also replay the moment when I used a lamp to smash in his head.

"What about him?" I ask, swallowing hard.