The Insiders Read online

  Two different guards were there.

  “What? You guys aren’t superhuman? No twenty-four-hour shifts?”

  Jokes. Me. My way of distracting from the complete suckage happening.

  I was here all day, folks.

  I grunted. I missed the other guards.

  The ride down in the elevator was silent. It was eerie to walk across the just-as-silent lobby. The front desk staff had one person, the same clerk as last night, and he stared at me the entire time. No facial expression. None. A shiver went up my spine, raising the hairs on the back of my neck.

  Why did I feel like I was walking to my death?

  But then the front doors were opening. A black Denali SUV was parked, waiting for me. Two guards detached from the wall and moved ahead of me. One opened the back door. I approached, peeking in and not seeing anyone. A part of me sagged in relief; the other was … disappointed?

  What was wrong with me? But it was what it was. I’d be taking this ride to meet my father alone after all.

  Sliding in, I discovered I was wrong.

  In a seat that had been converted so it was facing me sat Kashton Colello.

  I ignored the spike in my pulse. That was still unwanted.

  His eyes were hooded.

  God. Why’d that make him look even better?

  We stared at each other a moment.

  “Team manager.”

  He grunted back, his eyes steady on me. “Outlier.”

  I deflated. Outlier. An academic word for “outcast.”

  Scooting to the far end, I hugged my bag on my lap and turned to watch out the window as the Denali pulled away from the hotel.

  “Did you say your good-byes to your mother?”

  “Was that my half brother last night?”

  He didn’t get to ask me about her. She was the last thing that would be taken from me, even if I was being taken from her. For those reasons, I clamped my mouth shut and pointedly turned to look out the windows.

  “Yes, that was him.”

  I was brimming with questions, but not at the same time. Everything was overwhelming.

  “He didn’t know who you were.”

  I looked back. “Huh?”

  “He asked who that ‘hot chick’ was last night.”

  “Oh.” That was … awkward. And gross.

  “I told him he’d meet you later.”

  “You did?”

  And just like that, any dark amusement that might’ve been in his eyes was gone. “All teasing aside, there’s a reason I’m riding with you today.” He pulled out a folder and a phone that were on the seat next to him and tossed them to me. Opening the folder, my father’s face stared back at me. It was the same photo that was used in a lot of the newspaper articles and outlets. Shifting to the next page, I skimmed, reading over a list of facts about him. The second sheet was an image of his wife, my—my heart squeezed—stepmother. The page after her was the same thing. A bulleted list of information that made no sense.

  “What is this?” I held up the phone.

  “You cannot use your old one. You can keep it, or just keep the SIM card, but it must remain off at all times.” He nodded to the one in my hand. “That’s your new one to use, and you will not be calling your mother on it. Flip to my page.”

  “Your page?” But there he was, right after my stepmother.

  I pulled out his picture. It wasn’t a professional head shot like the others. Kashton’s image had been taken with a long zoom lens, showed him leaving a building with a phone to his head.

  He looked hard and mean.

  COVER: family friend of Kashton Colello (called Kash by friends & family)

  Reason for visit: “Hard breakup.” If further questioned: emotionally and mentally abusive, relocation needed, “a new healthier environment.”

  When/how did they meet?: Knows Kash through his father’s family side. Neighbor to Aunt Judith. Were friends when Kash would visit 4–8 years old. Kept in contact.

  Names she should use: Aunt Judith, Cousin Stephanie, Uncle Martin.

  List of other names to memorize. Page 4

  List of events/dates to memorize. Page 5

  I was seething. “What is this?”

  “You are not going to be introduced to the Francis family as Peter’s bastard child.”

  Bastard child.

  I flinched, feeling slapped in the face by that one.

  “This is your cover while you stay at the Chesapeake estates.”

  “The Chesapeake.” I grinned at hearing it again. The Yorktown estate would be the name of Chrissy’s house.

  “Mr. Francis—”

  Another wince. Mr. Francis was no longer referred to as my father, not even Peter. Mr. Francis. Like he was—the cover clicked in place—like he was my family friend’s employer.

  Like I was beneath him.

  Like I was nothing to him.

  Kash was saying, “… named each of his estates, and you are going to be staying at his most secured estate.”

  If this was my cover, if I was going to be a lie, then I’d need to learn my part. “So I’m a family friend of yours?”

  I was reading through the list of events and dates I needed to memorize.

  I was expecting a response.

  I got none, and looked back up.

  For the first time since I had seen him walk into that room at Phoenix Tech—his presence commanding everyone’s submission in the hotel lobby, the slight amusement he showed in the elevator, and even now, with how professional he was being—he was uncomfortable. There was no outward reaction from him, but as he remained frozen a second, not looking at me, not moving a muscle, I knew that I’d thrown him off balance with that question.

  It was my cover.

  I didn’t understand why, but then he spoke, low. “There’s going to be a level of curiosity about you because of your cover.” He cleared his throat, returning back to his detached self. “Just remain vigilant in your responses. Since I’m a part of the Francis family, little is known about my past. I intend to keep it that way. Peter, myself, and others felt if we attached you to my family, you’d be questioned less.”

  One, I was not shocked. Two, the way he said “Peter” told me so much more. He spoke about my father as if Peter were his father.

  “What do they know?”

  “My parents died when I was young. I came to live with the Francis family after that. I’ve stayed in touch with family on my father’s side and this was how you and I met.” He added, “We thought this would give you an added layer of protection.”

  I frowned. “Protection? Isn’t me being at this estate enough?”

  “We’re hoping, yes. But you’ll be staying in my villa on the estates.”

  I—Huh? His villa?

  “As in…” Alone? Was that what he was saying? “You and me?”

  “You are coming to stay in my villa at the Francises’ personal and most secured estate. There will be people curious about you, but you will be asked to remain in the villa as much as possible. You are to keep a low profile. So yes, staying in the home I use when I’m at the Chesapeake estates is ensuring another boundary of privacy.” He paused, looking out the window. “For yourself and for the Francis family.”

  For the Francis family. I jerked back against the headrest.

  There it was again. I was not a part of this man’s family. He was making it clear.

  Anger and hurt were grinding against each other inside, flipping over, squeezing my heart. Pain sliced down the middle of my chest.

  I was there for my safety, nothing else. That was being made very clear, and I was starting to want to know my father less and less.

  Consider myself checked. I was put in my place.

  I was being brought to the estate for one reason only: so I wasn’t kidnapped, so Peter Francis didn’t have a child’s death on his conscience, but I was not one of his children. I was a lie. I was a cover. I was … I was someone that didn’t matter.

  “Wh
en we get to the estates, you’ll meet Marie. She’s the only other person besides myself and Peter who knows the truth about you. She runs the estate and she’ll be a helpful asset for you. If you need something, you are to go to her. Not myself. Not your father. Marie. Consider her your handler of sorts.”

  Kash and Marie, my babysitters, or hostage keepers.

  Kash added, pulling out his phone. “Memorize the information. Your cover is the most vital. Matthew is already curious about you.”

  My heart flickered. He was?

  Kash scrolled over his screen. “He’ll be convinced you and I are having a torrid affair.” His eyes lifted, those eyes pinning me in place again, searing me. “It’s important that you maintain that you and I only have a friendship.”

  My chest pinched together. He saw my reaction yesterday. He knew, and he was cementing it down. Got it. Nothing except business.

  “Why?” I asked. “You have a girlfriend or something?”

  I didn’t care.

  But …

  Did he?

  Kash looked back to his phone, dismissing me. “If you are introduced as a love interest of mine, Matthew’s curiosity will know no boundaries. As of right now, he keeps to his hotel with his own security team, but trust me when I say that we do not want your half brother wanting to know you. He has a tendency to expose anything he can, if the mood suits him.”

  I knew my place.

  I was elevator music: annoying and in the background.

  EIGHT

  The Chesapeake was really Holy Crap City. The place was huge, and I was getting the gist of why Peter Francis had to name his places.

  And yeah, I’m not using the d-word or the f-word.

  If I was supposed to hide as his illegitimate bastard, well then, so was he. A bastard. And illegitimate to me.

  After stopping at a huge security gate, we drove up a long winding driveway that went past two fountains. Not one but two. It was like we were in the middle of a golf course, with those types of fancy water fountains when you first pull up to the main lodge, except this place was bigger than a nine-hole golf course. And I knew that because I had to set up cyber security for Brookley’s golf course back home. Crap pay but they wouldn’t get hacked again. Not that they got hacked in the first place, because, small confession, that’d been me. I needed some quick cash. They needed better security. So I was really helping them out. See. Giver. Me. That was one characteristic they failed to add to my résumé—or so I was assuming. They only gave me a whole file on who I was supposed to be pretending to be.

  “Since pulling past the gates, you have sighed, laughed, growled, and now you’re glaring.” Kash raised an eyebrow, looking so cool and collected. “Are you planning someone’s murder?”

  “Maybe.” I gave him a meaningful look. “Yours?”

  He only grinned back, his eyes dropping to my lips. Lingering. Darkening. “Well, that’ll be fun.”

  The buzzing was back.

  I ignored it. “So you live here too?”

  He nodded. “I have a villa here, yes.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “And you’re still not going to tell me what you do for my fa—” Damn. “For Peter Francis?”

  His eyebrows dipped at my change. “You’ll find out. Eventually. Until then, just stick to the file. You’ve memorized it already?”

  I tapped my head. “Photographic memory up here, Jeeves.”

  I waited, but neither of us commented on where that came from. I loved my mom, but she had the opposite of a photographic memory. Show her something to remember and it’s the first thing she forgets.

  We were going past a smaller brick building, with three garage stalls on the side. It looked like the security headquarters. Two golf carts were parked outside of it. A sidewalk wove past it on the lawn, sweeping up to the larger and main house, which is where we were heading.

  And …

  We went right past it.

  It looked like a mausoleum, or a small medieval castle. It had brick and stone on the outside. A grandiose doorway that probably stretched up three floors just by itself. The steps going up to the doors put the steps at my last high school to shame. There were pointed arches on wings that were setting out from the house.

  Then we turned, driving around the main building and heading to the right of it. I glimpsed the backyard, which was just as impressive. A pool. A tennis court. A cobblestone patio that stretched out and had different levels to it. One section had a campfire section, swinging chairs set up around it. Another section had a large grill and kitchen area built into the rock. A third section was where the sidewalk met the back of the house. There was more back there, but we were too far away for me to see it.

  A whole line of trees blocked my view from seeing what else was back there.

  We parked and I turned around, and my mouth fell open once more.

  It should just stay there. I could start sweeping, get paid as a maid while I was here.

  Jokes aside, I wasn’t fully gaping. On the outside, I probably had wide and alert eyes as I was taking everything in, but the mouth was cleaning floor on my insides.

  The door opened, and I stepped out to see another mansion.

  Villa was a cute word for this home. This was huge, just not as huge as the other one.

  A cobblestone walkway led to the front, a whole white brick porch. A set of wrought iron doors opened to a front entryway, and there was another set of doors after them. And going through there, it was all man inside.

  Sleek, dark gray trim. Granite floor that covered the entire first floor. The main floor had an open layout. I could see the living room with the fireplace that ran all the way to the ceiling. The wall across from me was mostly made up of windows, floor to ceiling. The kitchen had European shelving and a waterfall kitchen island. The backsplash was white rock.

  Stairs went up to the next floor from my right. A walkway connected to another back section of the house.

  “Did you just have that one bag?” Kash touched the small of my back, just one touch before he passed by and went to his kitchen.

  I sucked in my breath.

  He went to a pile of mail on his counter, picking up an envelope. I still hadn’t answered, so he lifted his head. “Bailey.”

  “Hmm?” I jerked out of my trance.

  I was a mess inside. Seeing everything my sperm donor had, knowing I had left my mom behind, knowing they wouldn’t have let her come here—I was feeling some bitterness.

  She was my mom. I had been his kid. If he’d given her a little extra, she could’ve—no, no, no! I couldn’t do that. I wouldn’t. Thinking like that was toxic. Be glad for what you get in life. Be thankful and you never have to feel the pinch of “Why not me?” syndrome. That was poison if you let it take over.

  “You okay?”

  The back of my neck was getting warm, but I coughed. Why did he have to actually sound like he cared? All concerned and sympathetic. “Yeah. Yeah. So…” I was supposed to stay here? With him? I heard it before, but I hadn’t fully thought about it. Him. Me. This house. Plus the whole secrecy about who I was. I was getting the distinct impression I was in way over my head.

  “Will that be all, Mr. Colello?” The driver came in behind me, a suitcase in hand. “Would you like this brought to your room?”

  Kash gave him a nod. “Thank you, Edward. You can leave that right there.”

  I knew an Edward once. Edward Vance. He was my seventh-grade math teacher. He was supposed to teach me algebra and instead I offered to figure out how he could get a tax refund bonus for extra credit. At the end of that year, he asked my mom out and they dated through the summer. That’d been awkward. I didn’t need to hear how Edward Vance could take the van all the way home.

  “Bailey?”

  “Yes!” I checked back in. “Where’s my room here?”

  I was freaking.

  This was post kidnapping.

  This was post learning a huge fucking lie.

  This was not-know
ing-what-was-going-to-happen-in-my-future freaking.

  This was just plain freaking.

  Everything was hitting me all at once.

  My stomach twisted up inside.

  “Bailey.” Kash was frowning at me, the mail down on the counter.

  I clamped a hand over my mouth. “I don’t feel so good.”

  His eyebrows shot up, and he was at my side in a flash.

  Opening a door, he pushed me down to the floor. The toilet lid was shoved up, and then I let it rip.

  Worst. Day. Ever.

  Wait. Scratch that. I forgot about the kidnapping.

  Second worst. Day. Ever.

  NINE

  “Well.” I groaned, falling to rest against the wall behind me. “That was embarrassing.”

  Kash had stepped back.

  I gagged. I dry heaved. It was like a premature ejaculation experience.

  There was no follow-through, no meat to my girth.

  I didn’t perform. I underperformed. Air. That was all that came out of me—and a small little snot that fell from my nose.

  And, remembering it, I wiped it away, tucking my hand down. I was going to press it on the floor, but that was gross. Kash was here, watching me, and these were his floors.

  “Here.” He tore off a couple pieces of toilet paper and handed them over.

  I took them, feeling that heat all over my body now. Embarrassing.

  “Thanks,” I croaked, unable to meet his gaze.

  He leaned against the counter, folding his arms over his chest. “All of this must be a lot to take in.”

  I snorted. “A little?”

  And another thing of snot came out. Gah. So embarrassing. I wiped at it quick, praying he hadn’t seen that, but knowing he had. This guy had hawk eyes. He saw everything. I doubted there was much he didn’t notice.

  “Listen.” His voice gentled and he slid down to sit across from me, his feet on both sides of my legs.

  I should’ve scooted back, put some respectable distance between us, but I didn’t. His legs touched mine and I … couldn’t bring myself to move away. If anything, my leg sagged a little bit against his.