I lift the card, waving it from side to side. “So, you’re giving me this because you want me to go to the police to file a restraining order?” I ask to clarify.
He shrugs. “That’s your decision, but at least I’m placing the contact in your hand.”
I shake my head in frustration. Somehow he makes it my decision, even though it wasn’t my decision to begin with. “Just because I’m taking the card doesn’t mean I’m going to the police station. You know that, right?”
“Of course.”
I tuck the card into my pocket, pretty sure I’ll never use it. But taking it feels right, too. I’m not an idiot. I am worried that Shawn is here, even if I don’t believe he’s a threat to me. It’d be foolish to think otherwise.
Besides, I can’t hate Darius for wanting to protect me. The thing I don’t like is that he finds that gray area to get what he wants. Hell, I’m sure that’s why he’s a billionaire. But I’m not a business deal, and I want him to respect the boundaries I create in my life.
“No more digging into things you shouldn’t,” I tell him sternly.
“Understood.” He grins.
I ignore the sexiness of that grin and add, “You’re not going to follow Shawn around, are you?”
“Let’s not talk about that.” His grin widens.
Fine. Because even I know it’s a fight I won’t win. “I really hope you’re not going to do business with your father.”
“Let’s not talk about that either.”
I huff, folding my arms. “I’m still mad at you.”
He grasps my arms, pulling me against the hard planes of his body. “Then be mad.” He kisses my nose. “At least you’ll be safe.”
Chapter 10
Darius
Later that night, high on the hilltop near the Twin Peaks and overlooking the Golden Gate Bridge, I watch Taylor take a seat on the hood of my cherry-red F-Type Jaguar, as I lift my ringing phone to my ear. “Darius.”
“Hey, it’s Ryder. Got time to talk?”
“Yeah.” I turn away and approach the edge of the cliff, keeping the conversation private. “Go ahead.”
“All right, so”—Ryder’s voice is tight, edged with concern—“I doubt the leak is coming from anyone who works for you. We couldn’t find a single person who’s going through financial trouble. And without money as the motive, I can’t see why anyone would do this.”
I agree with him, but I’m not ready to let this go just yet. “Did you look deep enough?”
“I went as deep as I possibly could,” Ryder confirms. “But even their close family members aren’t experiencing financial trouble. We can’t see any signs of anyone being blackmailed or any other reason someone would need to come into money fast.”
I glance down at my feet, noticing nothing but the dark shadows of the hazardous rocks below. “How about illnesses? Does anyone have a dying family member or close friend?”
“No. We checked on that, too. Believe me, Darius, there’s nothing there. Every person we vetted is clean.”
Good news, I suppose. Still, I want answers to clean up this mess. Round and round we go. I run my hand over my face, my palm scratching against my scruffy cheeks. “Where does that leave us?”
“At a dead end.” Ryder’s strained voice mirrors my frustrations. “Tomorrow, I’ll check back at Gabe’s bar and see what I can find out there. I’ll let you know what comes of that.”
“Please do.” I hesitate. Then, “Thank you for your help on this.”
“It involves us all,” is all Ryder says before the line goes dead.
Fuck screams in my mind. All I want to do is stop this person from hunting us down, and I’m no closer to ensuring that happens than I was after the first tabloid article. I push the deep-rooted worry sitting in the center of my chest down into my gut and shove my phone back into my pocket.