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Luca
This is bad.
I’m not sure how bad because people just freaking love leaving me in the dark, but I still know this is worse than I imagined it could be.
Stabbing the elevator call button repeatedly, I’m suddenly pissed off at how slow the damn car is. My toe is tapping a steady rhythm on the stone floor, my expression frantic where it stares back at me from the mirrored doors.
I hear the motor whir louder as the elevator finally begins its descent, and I blow out a breath, attempting to calm down even though it’s damn near impossible.
What did Everly do to piss them off so much?
I’d never been given the full story. All I know is that after my dad called me that last night at Yale and told me to come home, I’d returned to Georgia to a sick mother and concerned father.
Not even a day after arriving, Everly called me scared out of her mind and needing help. I’d handed the phone to my dad, only because he had co
But after helping her, he refused to tell me why she needed the help and where he sent her.
All I was told was that she needed a safe place and not to ask questions. After that, I heard from her once or twice, but she never filled me in on the story.
I’ll admit, I didn’t press too hard. I was too concerned with my mother’s health. Too wrapped up in getting married to a complete dick so that my mom could see my wedding before she died.
In short, I was losing my mind, and I’d allowed everything to slip past me without concern for the hows and whys of it.
And now I’m paying for that decision. In every way possible, a depraved, tantalizing demon, thoroughly enjoying the gauntlet I know he’s creating.
The elevator doors slide open, and I step in to stab the button for my floor. On my way up, I try to rationalize the situation.
It couldn’t have been that bad. We were in graduate school. It’s not like Everly was a thief. This isn’t international espionage.
Yes, she was scared, but the Inferno boys have that effect on people. I was scared. They’re a damn nightmare that’s difficult to escape.
So maybe it’s something stupid and I can get in touch with her first, figure out the problem, determine how to fix it and it’ll be over.
The only problem is, I need to find her first, and I have no idea how to access my father’s records. I was never given a phone number to contact Everly. Not that I’d asked for the information, which, now that I think about it, was seriously fucking stupid on my part.
But I’d figured I was away from the Inferno, no longer in their sight. I’d assumed I was safe.
Apparently not.
Thankfully, I know someone who might be able to help me.
The doors slide open with a sickly buzzing sound that is a testament to the rundown quality of the entire building. Unfortunately, this place is all I can afford with the measly pittance the court handed me from my former joint account with Clayton when we first split. An account that is dwindling down to mere pe
Ignoring the way my life seems to continue sliding further into the muck, I race over the threadbare carpet in the hall, my heel getting stuck in a fabric snag that launches me forward into my door. I land with a heavy thump, my purse falling from my fingers.
Snatching it from the floor, I open it to pull out my keys, somehow miss the lock three times with nervous shaking hands, and then eventually let myself in so I can race through the tiny living space, down another short hallway and into my bedroom.
Digging through the top shelf of my closet, I find the shoebox I’d filled with odds and ends from my father’s former office, scour through it for a business card, and then dial my phone.
After three rings, Jerry Thornton answers, my father’s former partner who trashed the business and caused us to lose everything. I’m not exactly in the mood to speak with the man. My father hated him after he destroyed his livelihood, but it’s not like I have much of a choice.
“This is Jerry.”
His voice reminds me of home, that thick Southern drawl I once had when I was younger but lost after leaving home for college.
Unfortunately, listening to him speak only brings the accent right back to my tongue. I use it to my advantage, though, play the i Voice syrupy sweet, I say, “Hi, Jerry, it’s Luca Bailey. It’s been a while since we’ve talked.” You can almost hear the smile in his response. “Well, I’ll be damned, Luca. It definitely has been a while. How are you doin’, baby girl? Are you lovin’ life in the big city? How’s the husband?” Talking to him feels like sunshine on a warm day. It reminds you of slow spi He reminds me of home, and it gives me a tiny glimmer of comfort despite what happened between him and dad. It’s too bad I have to destroy that. “Well, the city sucks, and my husband is a lying, cheating ass that dumped me. But that’s not why I’m calling.” Jerry doesn’t respond immediately, and I give him a few seconds to digest my lack of decorum in the answer I gave. “Sorry to hear that,” he says hesitantly, the sunshine in his smiling voice no longer brightly lit. Already, the storm clouds are moving in to this conversation. “What can I do for you?” Normally, I would feel bad about being so blunt, bad ma “I need to review my dad’s files. All of them. As in right now. So I’d like to know how I can access them.” Jerry goes quiet again. I can hear him scratch his fingers over a stubbled jaw, a long breath blowing against his phone that makes it sound like he’s standing in a wind tu “Why do you need access to the records, Luca? There’s nothing in there that would be of interest to you.” Little does he know that those records hold the key to my future. Without them, I’ll be homeless by next month. Marjorie had promised me the last hearing was all that was needed for me to get the money from Clayton. Now, Ta It’s taken effort on my part to hide just how perilous my situation is, and I’m surprised I haven’t broken down into a sobbing, weeping mess yet. I’m close to that point, though. Lying my ass off, I take a steadying breath and add fake sparkle to my voice. “Well, Dad told me the patents could be worth something when he was looking at selling them before he died, and it’s about time for me to unload everything that’s left from the business. I can’t hold on to this forever.” The business you destroyed, I leave out. “But before doing that, I’d like to know what’s on the servers. I’m sure it doesn’t matter, but I like to be thorough.” More silence, another jaw scratch, another long exhalation. “Listen, Luca, I’d like to help you on this, but your dad encrypted those records. Everything is on the servers that are in storage, but even if you access them, you won’t be able to see what’s there.” Panic drives down my spine like a bolt of lightning. “How do I decrypt them?” “You don’t. You know your father was a genius with computers. He developed his own programs and languages. I doubt there’s anybody smart enough to figure it out.”