I haven't made a single sound, but as though he can sense me, Jason straightens and turns toward me. His honey eyes are black as night and his brows are intense slashes over them.
"This is no place for you, Olivia," he states quietly. His comment is full of care and concern for me, which is odd considering the situation I found him in. Even now, one hand is hidden from my view, but the way the rope-like muscles shift and strain under his skin, I know he's holding the man still. The sheer strength and skill in that single move boggles my mind and brings home the real dangerousness of what's happening here.
"Cash … I … He said he'd send Isabella," I mumble.
Jason's tight expression loosens ever so slightly. "Give me two minutes and I'll bring him to you, but right now you need to go back outside, sweetheart." As though he's dealing with a scared child, he nods encouragingly. Assuring me that all is well. Or at least that it will be. And for some crazy reason, I lean toward believing him. Why, I have no idea. Something about him just instills confidence.
"Okay." I turn to leave, but turn back before I step through the door. "I'm just gonna go back and check in the apartment. Make sure everything is all right."
"Please don't," he implores, his expression almost pained.
"Why?"
"You don't need to see things like that."
"Th-things like what?" My heart is back to hammering again.
"Things that will haunt your sleep until the day you die. Please, Olivia, just go back to the car."
This time, I don't speak. I simply nod, sliding out the door and letting it close behind me with a long, hushed squeak.
I start back toward the front doors and am halfway across the dance floor when something pulls me around. I turn and make my way quickly to the office door, slipping through before anyone sees me. I stare at the apart door, slightly ajar, for several tense seconds before I take a step forward. Then another. And another. I'm just pushing open the door, staring gape-mouthed at the scene before me, when Cash comes barreling around the corner with Isabella tucked securely against his chest.
His face is stony and sallow when he spots me. He simply reaches for my hand, spins me around and tugs me back out the door with him. But no matter how fast he walks, no matter how far we go, I can't unsee what was spread out before me-Sophie with a needle in her neck, another woman lying in a pool of blood. Both motionless. Both presumably dead. I'll probably never forget what I saw in there.
Jason King was right.
CHAPTERTHIRTEEN
Cash
I'll never forget the hours that followed finding Sophie dead in my club. I carried Isabella and practically dragged Olivia out to the car. I got them both inside, almost folding Olivia into the front seat and then having to sit with Isabella (glued to my chest) in the back seat. We sat in absolute silence for at least thirty minutes, maybe more. I think everyone was shaken after having seen what we saw. I wish Olivia had listened to me. I wish she'd never had to see it, but she did. And now she'll be stuck with it for the rest of her life. And Isabella … I have no idea how much she saw or heard before locking herself in the closet. She hasn't spoken a word to me, not even when I've asked her questions. She hasn't cried either, though. She just holds tight to me, like she's terrified I'll let her go.
So I'm not. I'm not going to let her go until she's ready.
When Gavin pulls up, my senses go on high alert. He walks by the car, all determined like, spares a single glance and nod at me where I sit inside, and keeps right on walking. A man on a mission.
He must've talked to Jason. I know that walk. I know that look. I know what they mean. I remember them all too well from when I almost lost Olivia.
I really need to go inside, but Isabella …
I reach into my pocket for my phone and I dial Gavin's number. He answers on the first ring.
"Don't ask questions you don't want the answers to, mate," he says preemptively.
"I do want answers."
"No. No, you don't. Trust me. You don't want that kind of responsibility. Leave it to me. I'm your friend. I've got this."
"I know, but … I can help. I need to know what's going to happen. We need to call the police-"
"No! Trust me, we do not need to do that. The worst has already happened. We'll talk about the rest later. I'll fill you in."
"But I can-"
"It's not me."
"What? What's that supposed to mean?" I ask.
"Jason. He's kind of a loner, man. I'm just here to lend a hand."