Fool Me Once (First Wives Series Book 1)

by Catherine Bybee

  Sasha.

  I’m flattered. I’ll be in touch.

  He didn’t bother to see if she’d text him again.

  The cold space beside her when she expected something different woke her. Lori reached out, didn’t find Reed, and opened her eyes to see him sitting beyond the doors as the sun rose. He tapped his cell phone against his thigh in silence.

  She tucked her hand under her head and watched him without words.

  The weight of her stare turned his head.

  “You’re up early,” she told him.

  “Did I wake you?” His words were polite. His tone was off.

  “I think it was the silence.”

  He picked himself up off the chair and moved into the room. “I can order coffee.” He crossed to the phone on the small desk.

  “I’m okay right now.”

  His hand hesitated over the phone.

  “What’s wrong, Reed?” she finally asked.

  He hung his head between his shoulders. “I don’t want to do this,” he muttered.

  Lori repositioned her head. “Do what?”

  “This,” he looked at her. “Have this conversation.”

  “Whatever it is, we can talk about it.”

  He shook his head, looked out the door as he sat on the edge of the bed. “I can’t stand the thought of you hating me.”

  Air caught in her lungs, and she sat up in the bed, pulled the sheets up over her chest. “Why would I hate you?” Her mind scrambled for a reason. “Is there someone else? We never talked about being exclusive, if there is . . .”

  “No. No.” He still didn’t look at her.

  “Then what?”

  He pulled in a long slow breath. “I was a cop. Joined the academy as soon as I turned twenty-one.”

  “Okay. Why . . .” Her mind scrambled, trying to think why this was an issue. “Did you commit a crime and get thrown off the force?” And even if he had, he didn’t appear to be that man now.

  “Nothing like that. I left.” He rubbed his cheek. The scar she’d noticed when they first met came into view. She didn’t even see it anymore. Never had she asked about it.

  “What does this have to do with today?” She pulled her knees into her chest and wrapped her arms around them.

  He closed his eyes. “I didn’t meet you by accident.”

  Her pulse started a rapid tap, and the smile she’d been keeping on her face slowly faded.

  “I was on that ship in Barcelona to follow you and the women you were with.”

  Lori dropped her eyes from his back and looked everywhere but at him. “Why?”

  “I was hired by a private party to conduct an investigation.”

  “You’re a PI?”

  He nodded.

  She pushed her back up against the headboard. “Hired to follow me?”

  “Yes, kinda.”

  “Kinda? Who hired you?”

  He turned his head and winced. “That isn’t important.”

  “The hell it isn’t. Did Petrov—”

  “No! It wasn’t him.”

  Who? For what reason? Lori looked down at herself. Naked under the covers after one of the most romantic nights she’d ever had in her life. “You seduced me to gain information?”

  He reached for her, but she pulled away without him touching her.

  “I didn’t plan this.”

  Her jaw dropped. “You didn’t plan this. That makes it okay?”

  The hair on her head stood up, and her breath came in short pants as the dream she’d been living in crushed around her.

  “This isn’t anywhere close to okay.”

  Her nose flared. “Did you get the information you needed?”

  He didn’t answer her question with words, but his eyes betrayed him.

  “Oh, God . . .” Hysteria sat so close to the surface she felt it snapping her sanity. “What was so valuable that you had to screw me to get it?”

  “It was never like that.” He reached for her again.

  Taking the sheet with her, she scrambled out of bed, forcing him to move so she could wrap it around her.

  God, she was so stupid. There were no such things as coincidences. Wasn’t that her motto in court, in her life?

  “Why are you telling me this now? Why not just break it off and move on?”

  “Because I care about you.”

  She shook her head and forced her tears back. “Don’t say that. You have no right,” she yelled. “Who hired you, Reed?”

  “It’s safer if I don’t tell you.”

  She took one step toward him, hand in the air. “You no longer have the right to care about my safety.” She spun around, held the sheet up as she grabbed her clothes off the floor.

  “Listen to me,” he said as he moved around her.

  She backed away.

  “There is someone else following you.”

  “What?”

  “And I think she’s working for Petrov. You need a bodyguard, Lori.”

  Her chest rose and fell so fast she was seeing stars. “How long have you known this?”

  Guilt hit his face and stuck.

  “How long, Reed?” She asked in short, staccato words.

  “France.”

  She nearly dropped the sheet as she reached for her head. “France?” Tears started to fall.

  “I’m sorry, Lori. Just listen to me, I can explain—”

  She turned on him, marched into his space, and pulled her shoulders back. “Don’t.” Her finger poked him hard in the chest, and then she fisted her hand and pulled it to her mouth to keep from screaming.

  “You were a job, but you’ve turned into—”

  She pushed him away. “Fool me once . . .” She glared at him. “Once.”

  The sheet fell to the floor and she pulled on her clothes.

  Reed called her name as she scrambled around the room, collecting her things. “Lori.”

  Raw tears ran down her cheeks.

  “I’ll take you home.”

  She didn’t honor his suggestion with a response as she all but ran out the door.

  At the desk of the hotel, the smile on the woman’s face fell when Lori ran toward her. “I need the hotel car.”

  “Right away, Miss.”

  “To drive me to LA.”

  The woman looked around. “It’s for local—”

  Lori swung her purse on the counter. “It’s an emergency.” She opened her wallet, pulled five one-hundred-dollar bills from a hidden compartment, and put them on the desk. She looked behind her to see Reed running toward her with his bag.

  “Please.”

  Without words, the woman walked her outside and to the back of the town car.

  Once the car pulled away, she heard Reed yelling her name.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Reed’s first thought was to call Danny, but then he switched gears.

  He picked up speed on the freeway in an effort to catch up to the black sedan taking Lori home. The desk and valet at the hotel delayed him long enough to give Lori a fifteen-minute head start.

  The phone through the system in his Jeep rang several times before Cooper picked up.

  “Cooper.”

  “It’s Reed. I need you to be at Lori’s when she gets there.”

  “Is she okay?” The tone in Cooper’s voice said he was waking up.

  “No. I fucked up. She’s not thinking straight.”

  “What the—”

  “I’m sure you’ll hear the details, but what you need to know is she is still being watched. Petrov has a woman following her. Five seven, looks like a Russian movie star, complete with an accent, although she spoke at least two languages. Who knows how many more. So she might be able to disguise herself.”

  “How do you know all this?”

  “Not important. Just be there, Cooper. Lori should be back home within the hour. If she won’t let you in her place, park yourself in the hall.”

  Reed disconnected the call and weaved through the li
ght early Sunday traffic.

  Twenty minutes into his drive, he spotted the sedan and slowed down.

  He kept pace several cars behind, not that he cared if Lori knew he followed her home. Once they hit the city, he pulled in closer, running red lights to keep up.

  The driver pulled into the turnaround at Lori’s building and opened the door.

  She’d put on sunglasses, even though the sky was littered with low clouds and fog.

  He’d crushed her.

  Lori lifted her head and stared directly at his car, parked on the opposite side of the street. She paused, lifted her chin, and walked away.

  Reed’s grip on the steering wheel turned his knuckles white.

  He had no one to blame but himself, but the need to punch out his frustration overwhelmed him. It was times like this he wished he’d taken up boxing. He could throw himself into a ring and let someone beat the crap out of him, just because he deserved it.

  Tears overwhelmed her until she hit Ventura. That’s when she noticed Reed lagging behind. She had considered asking the driver to speed up, but to what end? Reed knew where she lived. He knew where she worked, and he knew her secrets.

  Once inside the safety of her home, she slammed the door, closed her eyes, and leaned against it. She slid down the door until she was sitting on the floor, her knees to her chest, and cried.

  How stupid. How could she be so stupid? They met at a bar on a cruise ship. She remembered their first look, the first flirt. He said he’d looked at the bill to capture her name and follow her around. Even joked that he was stalking her.

  She fisted her hair in her hands as she held her head. Everything felt so normal, completely by chance.

  But it was all fabricated.

  Everything.

  “Lori?”

  She lifted swollen eyes toward Danny. Cooper stood at his side.

  “What are you doing here?” she managed to ask.

  “Reed called me.”

  She forced her jaw to stay closed and squeezed her eyes shut, as if that alone would erase him from her mind. She scrambled to her feet, leaving her purse, which had spilled all over the floor, and her suitcase where she’d dropped them, and stormed to her bedroom.

  Inside, she wiped her tears away with the back of her hand and smelled him. The scent of Reed was still on her skin.

  “Damn it.”

  The blouse she wore was silk, one of her favorites. She yanked it from her back and marched into her bathroom. There, she filled her wastebasket with the clothes she wore. She stood under the hot stream of water until it turned cold, all the while thinking of everything that had happened since she met Reed. They’d made love in her shower, on the counter in the kitchen, against the damn front door. Never again. She vowed to herself that she’d never again allow a man to enter her personal space. Burning the clothes she’d been wearing when he used her for the last time was easy, cheap, but moving wasn’t an option.

  She tossed on an old shirt and panties and crawled under her sheets. Thankfully, her cleaning service had been there since Reed visited last. The thought had crossed her mind that she needed to make some calls, make sure Sam was aware that Alliance was compromised. She needed to order their private investigator to find out who Reed Barlow really was. If that was even his name. Had she ever seen anything with his identification on it? There were photo IDs on the ship, but she couldn’t say for sure she ever glanced at his. They charged things to their rooms, didn’t need credit cards. When they went out, he paid in cash. No ID needed. And no need for a waiter to thank a Mr. Barlow.

  A soft knock on the door stopped her stream of thoughts.

  “Go away.”

  “It’s Avery.”

  A tiny click and the door opened. Without asking, Avery walked in and crawled up on the bed beside her.

  Those damn tears returned. “He lied to me.”

  Without asking questions, Avery opened her arms and Lori crawled in. “Just cry,” Avery encouraged her. “We’ll figure out how to kick his ass later.”

  Lori hiccupped and sobbed.

  In a biometric safe under the back seat in Reed’s Jeep was his gun. He removed it and tucked it into his waistband before entering his apartment.

  He considered the lock on the door, one he had reinforced when he’d moved in but knew it wouldn’t take him a full minute to break into. A twist of the handle and sure enough, it was unlocked. No reason for Sasha to cover her tracks when she’d already admitted by photograph that she’d been inside.

  Still, he crept into his own place with his 9 mm poised. It was time to stop being a PI and start being a cop. He pushed the door open, waited, and swung in. No one pointed a gun back. Still, he moved slowly, room by room, closet by closet, under the bed.

  Nothing.

  He returned to the living room, closed the door with his foot, and set his weapon on his kitchen table. The room looked relatively normal with one exception.

  A bottle of champagne sat on the counter, open, with a wineglass carrying some of the contents of the bottle.

  Red lipstick stained the rim of the glass.

  Beside that was a burner cell phone.

  Sasha.

  Not only had the woman broken into his home, but she drank the champagne he’d forgotten to take with him up to Santa Barbara. And she’d sent him the message from his kitchen.

  He left the glass and phone alone with the intention of having them dusted for prints. He still had friends in the department who owed him a favor or two.

  In his office, the out of place element was his hidden wall. She’d left his camouflage wide open.

  He’d modeled his evidence wall after the one in the police station from when he was on the force. They’d post pictures, notes, evidence, and where it was collected like a road map. Every time he looked at it, another piece fell into place.

  It had worked for him then, and it worked now.

  Except now he was solo and only a Home Depot door lock and a grumpy next-door neighbor protected his place when Reed wasn’t there.

  He grabbed the metal trash can by his desk, turned it upside down on the floor, and started ripping apart his evidence.

  Lesson learned.

  One at a time, he fed the contents of the board into his shredder until it was nothing but a memory and a snapshot on his phone. He didn’t need anyone else happening upon what he’d learned.

  When finished, he looked around the room. She’d planted bugs. He would have.

  He moved to his bedroom, emptied his duffel bag, and proceeded to fill it with clothing to last a few days.

  Back in his office, he fished out cash, a new passport, new ID, and a new credit card from a hidden compartment in his filing cabinet. Outside of the slight felony of having identification that wasn’t truly his, he wasn’t a criminal, just pushing the legal envelope. Or so he justified to himself. He did understand the streets and what he needed to blend, however.

  And right now Reed Barlow needed to disappear to do everything he could to keep Lori safe.

  He placed a holster on his shoulder, shoved extra clips in his bag. He’d call Jenkins to come over and retrieve the wineglass and Sasha’s cell.

  He made it to the end of the hall when two men who looked like they lived at the gym stopped him.

  “Good morning, Reed.” The man who greeted him chewed gum and smiled.

  “Do I know you?” He calculated how fast he could draw his weapon and what the likelihood was that the men in front of him weren’t carrying.

  Slim to no way in hell.

  “You called my employee this morning.” The second man was all business.

  Cooper.

  His pulse slowed slightly. Lori’s people, not Petrov’s.

  “Going somewhere?” Mr. Smiles asked.

  “My place is compromised,” he said.

  Mr. Serious nodded toward the stairs.

  Without a choice, Reed followed. He wouldn’t be able to take them both, so he wasn’t going to try. If C
ooper was any indication of the kind of men these two were, he wasn’t at risk of ending up in cement shoes in the bottom of the ocean.

  Inside the parking garage, Mr. Smiles relieved Reed’s shoulder of his bag and shoved it into the back of a blacked out sedan. The second man lifted his hand, palm up.

  Reed hated being stripped.

  He slowly removed the gun at his side and handed it over.

  Mr. Serious dropped the clip and removed the round from the chamber before handing it to Mr. Smiles.

  Once again, he held out his hand.

  “Fuck.” Frustrated that he was being disarmed piece by piece, Reed shifted from one leg to another.

  Mr. Serious wiggled his fingers.

  Reed removed a smaller weapon from his left leg, one California didn’t like people to own.

  The process was repeated for all three of Reed’s guns and one pocketknife.

  Mr. Smiles winked before settling in the driver’s seat while Mr. Serious slid along the back seat beside Reed.

  “Where are we going?” Reed asked once they pulled onto the street.

  “Someplace less compromised.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Once Lori stopped crying, Avery made her get dressed so she could drag her away from her condo. Cooper shadowed them while a new set of men moved around her space, searching for more bugs.

  This time placed by Reed.

  Sam met them with bags of food from a local restaurant and several bottles of wine.

  Avery Ubered in ice cream and chocolate.

  With all the breakup food covered, the three of them sat around Avery’s living room with music playing in the background.

  Sam was the hardest to look at. Lori trusted the wrong man, and now everything the woman had worked for was at risk.

  “I’m so sorry, Sam.”

  Fit for the occasion in yoga pants and a big sweatshirt, Sam crossed her legs under her. “Okay . . . you’ve said that, now let that go. Whatever Reed did, or is doing, isn’t on you.”

  “I trusted him.”

  “We all trusted him,” Avery said from her kitchen, where she gathered dishes for their lunch/dinner/whatever meal it was when you only ate once in a day and planned to be pissing drunk by rush hour.