I hate seeing her this worried, and promise, “It will be.” I shut the door, making my way around the hood, feeling her watching me, and my skin flushes hot with each step I take. Regardless of what my mind tells me, my body wholeheartedly disagrees. Take her, roars within.
I shake the thought from my mind, and when I enter the pub, I’m immediately struck by the volume of the crowd and the loud folk music coming from the live band at the back near the pool tables. But the strangers are not why I’m here. Nor is the good food or the crisp stout.
The reason for my visit is standing behind the bar looking like a thirty-four-year-old carefree guy without a worry in the world. But I know that’s so far from the truth. Gabe has a lot of worries lately, even if he is a multi-millionaire. Because that fame brought the attention of the tabloids. And we all know that as of late the tabloids have been a serious pain in our asses.
When Gabe’s eyes connect with mine, he gestures toward the end of the bar. I move there and when I reach him, I say, “We need to talk.”
He nods, his hazel eyes wrought with concern, as he knows we can’t talk here. Right where I’m standing beneath the bar’s counter is a bug recording our conversations. I also know there’s another at our regular table at the back near the pool tables. Deep down, it grates on my last nerve that I have no idea who put them there and why someone is selling us out.
Gabe understands and glances over his shoulder and calls, “Kenna.” The dirty-blonde with eyes a mix of green and yellow serves her customer a beer, then when she looks in Gabe’s direction, he adds, “I’ll be back in ten.”
She nods and moves quickly to serve the next customer waiting with his twenty-dollar bill in hand.
Not long ago, Gabe lusted after that woman. I’d seen it, many times. But the fact that he barely acknowledges her now only shows me the weight of worry pressing down on him.
Out of all my friends, he’s always been the most carefree. Which makes what I have to tell him that much harder.
Gabe leaves his cloth behind the bar, lifts the wooden gate, and exits, quickly moving forward. I silently follow behind him as we weave our way through the crowd to the side door that leads to the kitchen. The clanging of dishes and the loud voice of the chef echoes in the small space as we move to the back and up the stairs.
There, Gabe uses the fingerprint scanner I installed for him when he renovated this building, originally built in the 1950s. Once we’re inside his apartment, I don’t bother moving to his living room. The conversation will be short. “Listen, I have news—”
Gabe raises his hand, stopping me. “I can only imagine whatever you have to say isn’t good so let me show you this first.” He moves to his coffee table and returns with the tabloid magazine Gotcha!
After he flips a couple pages, he hands me the magazine and I read the article.
Is Micah Holt dirty? Our sources tell us he’s under investigation for electronic money laundering and tax ev
asion.
I glance at Gabe. “So the plan finally worked?”
He nods. “It did.”
Relieved and hoping this means Hadley will stay out of the tabloids now, I hand Gabe the magazine. “Is Micah handling the heat okay?”
“Yeah,” says Gabe, returning the magazine to the coffee table. “Right now, he’s keeping silent about it all to draw this story line out as long as possible.”
Which seems insane, but these are insane times. I need to find our spy, and I still believe that means finding the person behind the threat to Hadley. But the thought of using her to do it knots my gut.
“Soon,” Gabe adds grimly, “I’m sure the police will step forward and tell the city that Micah isn’t under investigation because they are likely being hounded and will need to make a statement. But the plan to keep the focus on him this week is working exactly like we planned.”
“Good.” The goddamn tabloid is the last thing on my mind. Hadley’s my only focus. And with the threat of the video being held over her head, I need to find this hacker and quick. “We need to keep feeding them stories to keep them under our thumb.”
Gabe gives a firm nod in agreement. “Totally agree there. All right. Lay it on me. What’s the news?”
“You’ve got a blackmailer in Afterglow.”
His already tense face twists with concern. “How do you know this?”
I feel for him, truly and honestly. “Two male members videotaped Hadley Winters having sex with them and are now blackmailing her with it.”
Gabe moves to the couch and drops down into it, like the world is pressing thousands of pounds against him. He lowers his head and runs his hands through his messy hair. “How sure are you that it’s members from my club?”
“Very sure,” I tell him, staying put at the door. “Hadley received an invitation in her locker at the club from someone she’d been with before.” And I knew for a fact nonmembers could never just walk in.
“Fucking hell.” Gabe lurches to his feet and moves to the windows on the far side of his studio apartment. He presses his hands against the red and black exposed brick on the wall. “When will this shit end?”
I stay silent and let him process this. His world is spinning out of control. I suspect his trust is wavering, and for a man who likes control and power as much as Gabe, I can see the ghosts beginning to surround him.