The Princess (Filthy Trilogy 2) - Page 74

The man’s words come back to me: Everything is not what it seems and if you don’t open your eyes, and see with them, your stepfather won’t be the only one in the hospital.

Open my eyes and see with them. As if there’s something staring me in the face that I’m ignoring. I flip the card over and my eyes go wide. There’s another code on the back, another message. He obviously meant for me to have it, but why not just tell me what it means? Why not just tell me what I need to open my eyes and see?

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

Harper

I don’t move. I sit there in the SUV, the heater cranked, the soft leather hugging my body, all signaling warmth and comfort, but the card in my hands sends a chill down my spin. No matter what the message on the back of the card means, it spells danger. I stare down at it and read the numbers and letter sequence, trying to find an answer there. The first clue was given to Eric at my house. Now this one was given directly to me. Even I, who am not a savant, can see myself as the common denominator. And that man, the FBI consultant, or whoever he was, told me to open my eyes, as if the answer to some big question is right in front of me. As if I should understand the message. Frustrated, I’m impatient for Eric to return to the vehicle.

I open the door to my right and shove the card into my jacket pocket, aware that we are likely being watched and I don’t want anyone to know that I’ve already discovered the message on the card. The minute I step outside, I find Eric standing a few feet away, not with Savage as I expect, but with Blake, who I didn’t even know was here, but the two of them together are exactly the pair I need right now.

Blake to hack the code with a computer.

Eric to hack the code with his mind.

The instant I step onto the curb, the attention of both men shifts to me, their attention sharp, disapproving. They want to shove me back in the SUV. Eric even sways my direction, but I hold up a hand and start walking toward them.

“The card the man gave me,” I say without preamble as I join them. “I grabbed it from your pocket and I was looking at it.” I shift my gaze between both men. “It had another message on the back. The same kind of message we received back in Denver. Just numbers and letters. I don’t want to show you here and risk someone knowing that we’ve seen the message. It seems like it buys us time to figure it out before they expect some sort of action.”

They, I think.

Who are they?

We need to find out.

“Good decision,” Blake approves, “because while we have to assume the man who gave you that card was an enemy, with this new development, is there a chance that he’s actually an informant or friend?”

“The man grabbed her and threatened her,” Eric snaps, and apparently just the idea requires that his hand slide around my waist as he pulls me to him. “He’s an enemy. The end.”

“I guess that means he wasn’t FBI?” I ask.

“You guessed right,” Blake confirms. “No one at the FBI knows him.”

“And on that note,” Eric says. “I’m taking her back to the vehicle. I don’t want her out in the open until we figure out what the hell is going on.”

He doesn’t wait for Blake’s approval. He starts to turn. “I need a copy of the message,” Blake calls out. Eric doesn’t stop moving. He simply lifts an agreeable hand and leads me back to the vehicle, his actions protective, possessive. He places me between him and the SUV and then opens the door, his body once again sheltering mine, but I fear for him, not me. That’s just it. I’m not scared and maybe that’s some mental coping mechanism, a way to block out my warehouse attack. Mia wasn’t wrong. Eventually, I’m certain I’ll have to face that trauma, but that time isn’t now.

I settle into the soft leather of the backseat again and this time when Eric enters, we aren’t left alone. Savage joins us almost immediately. “Home?” he asks over his shoulder.

“Yes,” Eric replies. “The sooner the better.”

Savage places us in motion. “Where’s the card?” Eric asks, but before I can respond his cellphone buzzes with a text.

He snakes it from his pocket, eyes the screen as another message pings, and then glances at me. “Adam had to get a doctor in to calm your mother down. She’s worried about my father. They gave her Xanax and she’s sleeping.”

It’s then that I step back and realize the hell my mother must be going through. “She lost my father,” I say, my hand settling on my knotted belly, “and I’ve forgotten that to her, this is her worst nightmare. She’s preparing to lose the man who became her second partner in life. I’ve forgotten how much your father means to her.” I look at Eric. “She needs me and I’ve let the poison of this family allow me to forget that.”

E

ric squeezes my knee. “You’re protecting her. We’re protecting her. Every time you get the chance, you remind me how important protecting her is to you.”

“But I wasn’t there for her today. I didn’t—”

“You were attacked and almost killed. That was less than twenty-four hours ago and even then, you were worried about her. You have not thought of yourself at all. She’s safe. The medication will help her cope and as a bonus, the sedation keeps her there with Adam.”

“Adam’s a badass,” Savage chimes in. “This isn’t a bad thing. It’s good. He’ll keep her safe and cozy. They’re going to be so safe and cozy they’ll have cookies and cocoa when she wakes up. You can bet on it.”

I know he’s trying to make me laugh. I do and I appreciate it, but it’s not going to work. Not when the magnitude of being hunted and forced into hiding has set in. Eric squeezes my knee again and when I don’t look at him, he leans into me, his cheek pressing to my cheek, his lips at my ear. “We’re going to get through this. We’re going to protect your mother.”

Tags: Lisa Renee Jones Filthy Trilogy Romance
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