Secrets Never Die by Jessica Sorensen

Author:Jessica Sorensen [Sorensen, Jessica]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Borrowed Hearts Publishing LLC
Published: 2020-05-21T20:00:00+00:00

Eight

Everette

It was completely accidental that I ran into Wynter tonight. I shouldn’t have even approached her, but when I saw her wandering around the parking lot, looking utterly lost, I decided to make sure she was okay.

And then she punched me in the face.

Something was definitely wrong, but the more I pressed, the more she pushed away. Then I got caught up in the bantering and that bet, and suddenly, she’s walking into the club with me.

Talk about fucking up.

I figure, when we get into the club, I’ll find an excuse to part ways with her, even if I really want to make her follow through with her end. Then the moment she steps foot into the club, her face drains of color and she takes off running toward the bathrooms.

For a faltering moment, I consider letting her go. I’m not even technically supposed to be here with her. But I’m worried about her, which I know sounds crazy. I only observed her from afar and read her files. We’ve barely exchanged more than a handful of words to each other. Still, I can’t shake that goddamn feeling something terrible happened to her. And that feeling expands every time I’m around her.

She’s so nervous and uneasy. So sad. So jumpy. Hell, she punched me in the face simply because I called out her name and touched her shoulder. That level of jumpiness usually stems from someplace deep or traumatic. I would know.

Back before I was accepted to the agency training program, I spent a lot of time swinging my fists and asking questions later. I may have kept it up if I wasn’t forced to refocus my anxious energy elsewhere. In a way, training saved me from a lot of fights and possibly even jail time.

The scars on my chest throb.

That doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten, though, what fear and being out of control feels like. Only, I was also carrying around a bunch of guilt. Still am, in a way.

Fuck, I think I need to go check on her.

I push my way through the mob of sweaty, drunken people, and hurry to the restrooms. Then I lean back against the wall and scope out the people wandering and stumbling around while I wait for Wynter to come out.

From first glance, this place appears to be an ordinary club full of rich, spoiled brats who are spending way too much money on drinks. I question what draws people here. Is it simply a place for the rich to hang out? Or is something else going on? Clubs can sometimes be a front business for illegal activities, like money laundering or drug trafficking. Could this be how the guys are smuggling their drugs around?

I make a mental note to look into who owns the place and do a little research on them. I might be creating theories out of nothing, but my dad did always say that some of his best theories were those that didn’t always have a straightforward reason.

“You think it’s going to work?” Travis Marilellie suddenly turns down the hallway with a drink in his hand.

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