Carter Reed 2 (Carter Reed #2)

More and more people turned to look at us, and out came the phones. Flashes lit up the night.

The guards beside us held their hands up, trying to block the views. Carter lifted his arm as well, over my shoulder, and I ducked underneath, hurrying forward through the opened door. Once we were inside, Carter issued the order: “Get rid of them.” A waitress came down a hallway to the right and he added, “Get rid of the staff, too. I want this building empty.”

He touched the small of my back and ushered me down a hallway. We moved quickly, going all the way through the building to the back exit.

When I saw it, I started to slow down. “Carter, what—”

His hand was firm on my back. “Trust me.” He guided me out the door to where another car waited for us, and as we exited, I saw Michael. He opened the back door to the car, and we got inside. One of the guards pushed in behind us. Before I could settle into my seat, the car was already shooting ahead.

“What…” The question died in my throat.

Sitting across from me was my sister.

“Oh.”

She lifted a hand and ducked her head. “Hi, Emma.” Then she managed to look me in the eye.

I’d been right. She had my eyes, my nose, my lips, even my chin, but her face was more round than mine. She studied me as well, lingering on my bruises with her lips pinched together. Even somewhat concerned, I could tell how lovely she was. Her hair was a lighter color than mine and pulled back into a tight bun behind her head. She had makeup on, but it wasn’t much. She went the natural beauty way, but I could understand why. She was beautiful.

Realizing we were just staring at each other, her cheeks grew pink, and she looked down at her lap. Her hands fidgeted until she crossed one leg over the other and stuffed her hands between them. She glanced back up, jerked away when she saw I was still watching her, but then swallowed and looked back up once more.

Then I realized it, too. I was staring. I was rude.

I didn’t care.

I couldn’t stop taking in all the details of her. Her clothes were expensive. Carter had money, and even though I tried to buy my own clothes, he had someone buy clothes for me, but my style was more understated. I didn’t enjoy letting people know my clothes were tailor made. My sister didn’t shout money with her clothes, but I recognized a lot of the brands. They were high-end and not bought off the shelf. The toes of a black boot peeked out from her sleek, gray pants and her light cashmere sweater had zippers going from side to side. A scarf around her neck completed the look.

Whatever had happened to her, it had blessed her in the end.

She cleared her throat and nudged the guy next to her. My gaze turned to him. It was the same man I’d seen with her after the bombing.

“Miss Nathans?” I said to him.

My sister’s cheeks flared bright red. She looked down at her lap.

He leaned forward in his seat, tugging his jacket’s collar away from his throat. “Uh, yes.”

“My name is Emma Martins.”

“Uh, yes,” he repeated, glancing at Carter. “I don’t know why I called you that. I knew, I mean—the media referenced you as Emma Martins. I had hoped, no—I had thought…” He quieted as my sister placed her hand over his.

She leaned forward. Her chin lifted. Her shoulders went back. The red had faded quickly and, somehow, I now stared back at an elegant, sophisticated woman. “What Kevin is trying to say is that he’d hoped the name Nathans might’ve triggered a memory with you. You were taken so young.”

Taken. Young. Triggered.

None of those words sat right with me, and I tensed, but Carter took over. He must have felt my distress and, much like she had, he now commanded the attention. “Let’s keep the pleasantries to a minimum until we get to our destination.”

“About that—” The man coughed into his hand, then did it again. “We had asked to meet Emma at your club. After searching us, your men didn’t allow us to voice our feelings about moving the location—”

Carter spoke over him. “Because it was my call. Not yours.”

Red spread up the man’s neck, but he didn’t respond.

My sister patted his hand. “It’s okay. He’s…I mean—” She gestured to Carter and myself. “We don’t know you…at all…”

We were mafia. That was the meaning behind her words. They were scared of us. As soon as I realized that, laughter bubbled up my throat. But I kept my mouth shut and shoved it back down. Laughing, at this moment, wouldn’t be appropriate. And if I started, I didn’t think I could stop. There’d been too much tension over the last few weeks.

Instead, I sighed. “This is awkward.”

My sister sputtered out a sound that was half a laugh and half a cough. She tried to cover, touching her chest. “Oh. I’m sorry. I—” But the corners of her lips curled up, and so did mine. When she saw my smile, she looked back down, her shoulders shaking as she laughed softly.