“He says he’s your ex-husband.”
I frown, not entirely sure how Bill got this address—probably my father—but absolutely certain I don’t want to talk to him. I’m positive that the press about Dallas and me has both confused and hurt him, but I’m not in the mood to talk about it. Soon, but not yet. “I’m sorry. Tell him it’s not a good time.”
“He says it’s important. That it’s about Colin.”
Colin?
I start to ask what he means, but instead I tell the doorman to just send him up.
“What’s going on?” I ask, the moment I open the door for him.
“You’re not going to like it,” he says. “Not any of it.”
I cross my arms over my chest, feeling suddenly vulnerable. “Just say it.”
“You know how we’ve been investigating your brother’s kidnapping?” He stumbles slightly over the word “brother.”
My throat is so dry I can barely speak. Somehow, I manage to say, “Yes.”
“Well, first of all, we weren’t the only ones investigating.”
I look at him sharply. “What do you mean?”
“Someone else was trying to find Dallas’s kidnapper, too.”
“Who?” I walk to the couch, because my knees are so weak now I’m afraid I’ll fall if I don’t sit. It’s Deliverance of course. It’s Dallas and Liam and Quince and the rest of the team. I know that.
What I’m wondering is if Bill knows it as well. But he, thank goodness, is shaking his head. “No idea. I wish we did because—well, I’ll get to that. The point is, we suspected someone else was poking around. We’re certain now.”
I don’t want to ask. I’m positive the answer will be bad. But I have to know. “Why? Why are you sure now?”
He meets my eyes. “Because when we made the move to bring Colin in for questioning earlier today, someone else had gotten to him first.”
Questioning?
I try to move, but I’m glued to the seat. I try to speak, but my hand is glued to my mouth. Seriously? They think Colin had something to do with the kidnapping?
Oh, god.
The room starts to turn gray, and I realize that I’m not breathing and that Bill is by my side, his hand on my back telling me to just inhale. To take it slow and breathe deep.
“Colin?” I say. “You’re really telling me that Colin was behind the kidnapping? Are you sure?”
“It’s looking bad for him. I’m sorry,” he says. “God, Jane, I’m so sorry.”
I swallow, trying to make sense of what he’s saying.
“And he’s gone?”
Bill nods.
“And—and someone took him.”
“They did.”
I stand. I have to move. I have to—oh, god. Oh, god.
“How long have you suspected him?”
He looks away. “A while.”
“And you didn’t tell me?”
He turns back to face me. “Come on, Jane. It was an official investigation—”
“That’s bullshit.”
“—and I didn’t want to hurt you unnecessarily. What if we’d been wrong?”
“You shouldn’t have kept it from me,” I insist.
His expression turns ice cold. “Seems like you’ve kept a lot of things from me.”
I start to lash back at him, but I bite my tongue. Instead, I look straight into his eyes and very calmly ask, “So why are you telling me now?”
He shoves his hands into his pockets. “Christ, Jane. I still love you, you know that. Even with … everything else, do you really think I’d let you hear about this through a news leak? From someone in the FBI coming to investigate? From anyone other than me?”
I cringe, thinking of the way he heard about me and Dallas. Not from me, that’s for sure.
“It’s classified,” he continues, “but no way in hell am I keeping this from you.”
I open my mouth to answer and taste the salt of my tears. “Thank you. Really. But I—I need you to go now. I need to be alone.”
“Jane—please. We need to talk. About this. And—and the rest of it, too.”
I shake my head violently. “No, no, please. I’m sorry about—well, everything. But not now. I can’t—I—” I draw a breath and try again. “Thank you for coming. I mean that. But right now, I need to be alone.”
Right now, I’m falling apart, even more than he realizes.
Because I know something Bill doesn’t. I know who has Colin.
Deliverance.
Deliverance has been investigating my birth father. Dallas has.
And he never once told me.
He lied to me. He shut me out.
And right now, I think that he’s broken my heart.
I’ve reamed Dallas out in my head at least five times before he even walks through the door. Finally he comes home, and I’m so well-practiced that it’s almost anti-climactic when I cross the room in five strides, lash out, and slap his handsome face.
“What the hell?”