Scorch (Virtues & Lies Book 2)

by Alexandra Silva

  Studying the notes in Leo’s neat handwriting, I can’t seem to forget the conversation we had the other night. He genuinely believes Charles has a role to play in all this, but it doesn’t make sense. He has no reasons to sell himself out. Besides, Fleur would’ve picked up on something, and she would say something. Leo’s right about that for sure—Fleur is too loyal to Cassie to ever keep something like this from us. Especially after the whole kidnapping thing…

  You never thought she would keep secrets from you either. The voice in my head taunts me low and leading as my focus strays to the piano.

  It’s gone exceptionally quiet as Arabella stares out of the window, a grimace pinching her face.

  That was different, I bite back at my thoughts.

  Trust is becoming a luxury that’s fast becoming scarce. Even so, I would trust my wife one hundred percent with everything. Fleur on the other hand—

  “What’re you thinking?” Casper grumbles, standing beside me at the pool table, his stare darting to where mine is fixed.

  His dark eyes are glossy with questions, and as he leans over the side of the table, his lean bulk bulges sideways. Everything about him is stealthy. From his attention to detail to his calculated actions.

  Freddie likes to call him Deadshot because his skill set makes him kind of an anti-hero. But get on his wrong side and he’ll go supervillain on your arse without a second glance. He doesn’t disarm. When he shoots, he kills.

  “What’s eating at you?” he repeats, this time levelling me with his narrowed gaze.

  With a sigh, I drop my focus to the table and the papers. “Sometimes I don’t know who to trust anymore.”

  “No one.”

  “Not even you?” Looking up, I find him staring me out. Something about the way he doesn’t flinch or blink is really unsettling.

  “What the fuck, man?” Taking a step forward, I straighten to my full height. He’s only a couple of inches taller than my six foot four, but when he has that cold, intent glint in his eyes, it makes him seem a lot bigger. “You’re meant to assure me you have my back.”

  “I have your back,” he states plainly. “I’m not going to keep reassuring you of it. If you don’t trust me by now, then you never will. Same goes for them.” He nods at Leo and Freddie.

  “I do trust you.” It’s a snarl, but it’s true. I trust Casper with my life, and the lives of every person I care about.

  “Then who don’t you trust?”

  “I don’t know. Leo and I had this conversation about his thing with Charles, and since then…I don’t know, I can’t help but think that the only one of us who hasn’t been touched by any of this is…”

  “Is?”

  “It’s not that I don’t trust her.” The way he raises his brow gives me pause.

  “Her?” Glancing over at Arabella, his demeanour changes. Casper goes from impassive to ready to throttle, just like when I broached the subject of asking her out. He didn’t exactly make it easy for me. His death threats were serious.

  “I love her—”

  “You love her, but you don’t trust her?” The bite in his tone has me backing up as he turns to face me. “Like you love her, but you had Julian draw up divorce papers, huh?”

  Jesus, talk about getting the wrong end of the stick.

  “I burned those. They served their purpose. Arabella’s back, and that’s all that matters. Besides, I wasn’t talking about her. If you let me finish…fucking hell.”

  “Who the fuck are you talking about, then?” The rasp in his voice is low.

  “I love Fleur. She’s practically as much my sister as Cassie. But like her father, she’s never gotten caught up in any of the shit that’s happened. It’s like she has an invisible shield around her.”

  He visibly stiffens, and I can see him go into protective mode. Casper has no tolerance for rats or traitors. He’s far too loyal to hold back in those circumstances.

  “Her mother died, for fuck’s sake, and her father doesn’t give a fucking shit. She might as well be alone in this world, with the exception of us. Because she’s one of us, right?”

  I nod, ignoring the prick of doubt needling my head.

  “Fleur is as much of a Sinclair as you and Cassie, and I can tell you now that your mother would fucking make you eat your words if she heard this conversation. What the fuck has gotten into you?”

  “What’s gotten into you?”

  His features smooth over. “It’s not like you to go around making accusations like that without having proof. It makes things awkward and harder.”

  A low, huffy growl vibrates out of him as he shakes his head, staring straight into the fire behind Leo and Freddie.

  The two of them are going back and forth on a printed map in one of the corners. Pushing this conversation to the back of my mind, I focus on what they’re saying.

  “It doesn’t make sense. All the missing people are connected to someone that has some kind of pull. The senator’s son was the bargaining chip for that port.” He points at the image of the large multimillion-pound yacht moored in a small southern American port. It has a direct route to the Colombian coast. “Perfect for smuggling whatever shit’s on the agenda. I’m guessing it’s not just narcotics. In fact, I’d be more inclined to go with weapons and people.”

  “Well, duh…of course, if you have Northern Africa opened up to you for the drugs, why would you go the obvious route?” Freddie adds, dropping the pool balls on the table, over our spread of information, and arranging them for a game. “Quite frankly, if I was to smuggle anything, I would do narcotics from South America to Africa. Brazil on ship to Guinea, up through Mali, and tread the border of Niger and Algeria, up through Libya to Tunisia. You have access to all of Europe, urbanised and wealthy Middle East.”

  “And the States? Canada? Asia?” I take the cue from his hand and break the game.

  “Fucking hell, numb nuts!” Groaning, he follows me from across the table.

  “Once you’re in the Middle East and Central Europe, you get into Asia easily,” Leo adds, tracing the journey on the printed map. “Which makes perfect sense, seeing as the Japanese girl that went missing in Berlin is the Prime Minister’s niece.”

  “And the States?”

  “Get them into Asia and you’re in,” Freddie adds. “The US imports so much from them that it’s child’s play. Besides, from all this—” He signs at the photocopies spread in front of us. “—they must have some bigwigs in their pockets.”

  “But why would it work? They can’t possibly be holding all these people captive.” Smashing the white, I try to spread balls around the table. Freddie loves a tight game, and I’m not in a mood to lose.

  “Desperate people do stupid things,” Leo mutters. Looking up, he marks Arabella with his stare. “Ignorant people make stupid decisions.”

  “Wind it in.” Pressing the end of my cue to his shoulder, I move him along the edge of the table.

  “Look at his grandfather.” Freddie circles behind me. Stepping between Leo and me, he nudges my cue out of the way.

  “Once they’ve done one dodgy deed, they’re under the thumb. The fallout, if it became public, would be too fucking wide. You’re looking at career suicide, not to mention the fact that in some of these places it’s a treasonous act. They would be so fucked that the desperation alone would drive them to do whatever is asked.” Sitting back into the wingback love seat by the fire, Leo pours himself a glass of water.

  “It doesn’t make sense though.” Casper joins him. “Why take Lucy? The others were nobodies. Lucy was fucking everywhere. People noticed.”

  “We noticed.” The smack of the ball Freddie shoots reverberates around the room.

  “That’s where it went wrong.” It finally occurs to me. Looking at everything. Putting all the facts together. “She was too high-profile to do anything with. And Stanton was bound by our rules.”

  “That doesn’t make sense either.” Leo shakes his head. I can make out the movement in my p
eriphery as I take another shot and stupidly miss the fucking pocket with my half-arsed effort.

  “Make it easy for me, huh?” Teasing, Freddie chalks his cue. Even though his actions are playful, his tone is serious.

  “There’s nothing really stopping us from going our own way.”

  “So we thought.” I glance his way. Our conversation from the office plays between us.

  “Would they really put a bullet in someone’s head because they don’t want this?”

  Freddie laughs at Leo’s question. “Why the fuck not? Rules are rules are rules, right?”

  “You know better than to ask that when he’s around.” Shaking his head, Casper focuses on the doorway.

  A worried frown wrinkles his usually impassive features, and as Fleur draws nearer, he studies her intently.

  Looking at her fragile state, I feel like a bastard for the conversation Casper and I had. The guilt is even worse when she smiles up at me, that one small gesture seeming to zap all the energy from her.

  Fuck. He’s looking her over like he’s trying to see through every layer of clothing and skin, muscle, and bone.

  You’re a cunt. Berating myself, I wrap an arm around her shoulders and give her squeeze. Fleur is impossibly smaller than Arabella. She’s naturally slender and a good few inches shorter. Standing next to me like this, it’s kind of remarkable that she breaks the five-foot mark.

  “How’re you feeling?” Leo asks her with a small smile that’s far too soft even for him.

  “Like there’s a wet, angry gremlin inside me that’s clawing to get out.”

  “Hmm…” Leo laughs at the same time as Casper sighs, “Really?”

  “Yeah. Really, big man.” Pulling away from me, she trudges over to where Leo’s sitting. “Where’s Cassie? I thought she’d be here with you guys.”

  “She’s on a call with Mum. Party planning and all that.” Standing, he offers her his seat even though there are other chairs next to it. “Last-minute hustle, and I think one of the artists that helped out with the auction had an accident, so they’re trying to figure out how video him in or something like that.”

  “She said something about it; my head’s still not on properly. I need to go home.”

  “Why?” Casper asks brusquely.

  Again, I feel fucking terrible for saying anything to him. He’s looking at her like he might just tie her up and keep her hostage or something.

  “In case it’s escaped you, I’m still vomming like Vesuvius on a shit day. I want my space. I want my bed. I need to go home.”

  She shrugs after a quiet moment. Turning, she’s about to leave when she pauses, staring at the pool table with wide eyes.

  “You can’t just leave,” Casper says matter-of-factly from where he remains seated with a serious look on his face. His jaw is clenched as he leans forward, elbows on knees.

  “He’s right,” Freddie tells her. “You’re kind of stuck until we all go.”

  “Where did you get those?” Her hand shakes as she rests it on one of the printouts from the journals. “That’s my mum’s handwriting. It’s so perfectly continental.”

  Shuffling along the side of the pool table, her fingertips trace over every piece of paper with Grace’s notes.

  “The loops are all long and fluid, and even the numbers are all joined together. That was one of her things because my nan always told her off for it when she sent her cards.”

  Freddie makes to cover everything up, but I shake my head at him. It’ll be a sure way of telling whether or not she knows anything.

  “Where did you find these?”

  It’s funny—not one of us is sure how to answer her grief-stricken question. My instinct to comfort her niggles at me until I have to put effort into keeping my hands and limbs to myself.

  “My dad destroyed all her things. There’s nothing left, and she never left anything like this for people to find. She locked it all away in her office at home.”

  “Grace left these with someone,” Arabella murmurs from behind me.

  Stepping around me, she cradles Fleur, and a shudder wracks through Fleur’s tiny frame. It’s easy to forget that she’s only twenty-two with all her sass and bravado.

  “She wouldn’t leave any of her notebooks with anyone. Her bipolar made her paranoid, and she wouldn’t trust anyone with her work. Mum never trusted anyone with her things, that’s why she used code.” My heart breaks at her wispy sigh. “I don’t know where you got this from, but the fact that you have it is wrong.”

  Leo laughs dryly, the ire palpable enough that it has Arabella scowling at him.

  “She was working on something with Kit, and whatever it was…”

  “We don’t know what it was exactly because Freddie and Leo have only just managed to figure out her code,” I butt in before Arabella says more than she should. “We’re tracing their paths, but there’s this one thing that doesn’t make sense.” Pointing at the big squared numbers, I show her the one piece of the puzzle that neither Freddie nor Leo have been able to figure out.

  “Rose.” Scrunching with grief, her face pales with a wobble of her lips. “They were her favourite. So predictable and ordinary for someone like her.”

  Something happens in that moment, and although Arabella doesn’t let go of her, Casper stands over the two of them. Fleur looks up at him, and some kind of understanding flows between them.

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yes.” Nodding, she turns to face him.

  “How’d you work it out so quickly?” Freddie rounds the pool table to crowd our huddle, pushing himself between me and Arabella to stand right on top of Fleur.

  Boundaries aren’t something he’s good with at the best of times.

  “Back off.” It’s an order, and it’s not given lightly. Casper moves Fleur to his side, his scowl finding me before Freddie. “You get one warning…don’t be a dick.”

  “Yeah, all right. How about you get back in your flat pack and chill as usual?”

  “Fred.” Nudging him away from them a little, I pull Arabella closer, because if it kicks off with these two, shit will fly off the handle quickly.

  “Why are we fighting again?” Leo pulls one of the wingbacks closer to the love seat. “Right, you two sit there.” He gestures to Casper and Fleur with a tip of his head. “And you, pillock, sit here. Don’t be a twat. Be fucking cool.”

  Fleur takes a step back from all of us. Arms twisted together in front of her, she looks between each of us as though the walls are closing in on her.

  “How did you know what that meant without looking at it properly? You glanced…”

  Her spine steels. “It’s my grandmother’s cottage.”

  “Why would she have it in code?”

  “Because it was my mum’s way of coping with shit. Okay? It made it easier for her to have good days.” A lone tear sluices down her left cheek, softening the clench of her jaw. “Isn’t that what you do? You’re a dick to people so that it won’t feel as bad if they don’t stick around. Well, she thought she was protecting the people she cared about by keeping everything cryptic.”

  “Why?” Freddie presses loudly and brusque, his grimace looking down on her cold.

  In a blink, Casper is in his face. “Do you value your brain?” Barking at him, he sits the heel of his palm over the tip of his nose.

  A bored laugh hisses from Freddie. “What? You’re going to kill me?”

  Casper lowers his hand down his face, a dark, promising expression. Gripping his jaw, he pulls him up enough that Freddie’s neck looks like it might snap.

  In the quiet, their breaths are loud and angry. Any other person would try to free themselves from the vice hold, but not him. Freddie holds Casper’s gaze in challenge, urging him to follow through or back the fuck down. It’s all in the dead stare. Unmoving. Unflinching. Unfazed.

  “Bajalo.” Arabella’s frustrated growl cuts through the air.

  “Not until he learns some manners.” Casper gives him a shake.
“You need to learn how to talk to women.”

  “Just put him down, god-fucking-dammit. You’re making a scene.” Stepping back from them, Fleur turns to me. Bottomless black eyes drowning in tears, she takes a deep breath before she says, “You knew my mum. You know why she did it.”

  The truth is that yes, I remember Grace’s episodes. She used to disappear for days or weeks at a time, Mum would be worried sick, and Dad would send someone to find her. There were moments her manic episodes would verge on psychosis.

  Fleur would come stay with us, and we would all avoid the reason why she was there.

  Still, Grace was hyperintelligent and extraordinarily kind for someone that lived in a constant battle with her own shadow.

  Nodding, I shuffle closer to her. Sheepishness makes my heart swell uncomfortably in my chest when she shakes her head and backs away from me.

  “It’s my grandmother’s cottage. The number and the name. It was Mum’s favourite place,” she says quietly. The tip of her nose flares red like her cheeks and teary eyes.

  Before another tear falls, she walks around me to the door.

  Throwing Freddie back into his seat, Casper starts for her. “Wait.”

  Fleur doesn’t look back. She doesn’t stop, and his frustration is evident in the way his hands clench at his sides.

  “Will you stop? Please?”

  “I want to go home, Casper.” Turning in the doorway, she takes another deep breath. “I’m done, okay?”

  “No.” The grit in his tone has our conversation form earlier flitting through my mind. Every word changes context the longer I watch their exchange.

  What the fuck?

  My feet move before I can stop myself, but Arabella is quick to tug me back. She looks just as befuddled by the scenario in front of us. Leo looks indifferent, almost like he’s had time to adjust to whatever is going on.