Sienna had no idea how she was going to control her runaway imagination, but she knew there was no arguing. “Okay, Ash. Give me a minute to use the bathroom and have a drink of water.” She turned on the water and stared at herself long and hard in the mirror once she’d locked herself behind the powder room door. She slowed her breathing, taking deep breaths in and holding them for a moment before slowly releasing them. Talking to herself softly, the water drowning out her words, she calmed her nerves and prepped for the worst.
Before long, Sienna and Asher were making the same trek down the driveway as earlier to their destination, but Sienna knew that guy would be back. She had lots of fans. Fans who watched her all the time, came to the club as much as possible, even tried to get their picture snapped with her.
But no one ever came to her house. Actually, no one knew where she lived because the property was legally titled to Asher. The only way this guy would know that she lived with Asher was if he tracked her down, and not because he was a fan. He was something else. Something sinister.
For the very first time, Sienna faced the prospect that she might have to give up the little slice of happiness she’d created for herself. She wouldn’t drag the few people she’d come to care for into her mess of a past. They didn’t deserve the wrath of her old life.
She’d go on this trip with Asher and as soon as she got back, she’d figure out a new and revised plan, and get out of town for good.
Wednesday
CARSON SHIFTED in his first-class seat, put on his noise-cancellation headphones, and motioned for the airline attendant. A good scotch was in order. It had been a long day, and it was time to block everything out and get straight back to work. He’d spent the last couple of nights in his place in Philly, exercised his very neglected motorcycle, allowing the engine to roar all the way to and from dinner with a buddy. This morning he woke up and took a long run along the Schuylkill to clear his head before traveling to meet with his client, then jumped on the last flight out for the day.
Now he needed to find this damn person and close the case. He wanted to be done with the job and those godforsaken clients even more. He never should have accepted the job, but it played on his heartstrings for some weird reason. He didn’t care if it meant he was a cocksucker; he hated this case. Those people rubbed him wrong every which way, and for fuck’s sake, he only wanted to be rubbed in one way, by one woman. One who was about five foot nine and curvy, with perky and voluptuous breasts, a brilliant smile, and scintillating eyes when she was on the pole, that turned caring when she was at home.
Stripper or not, I want her.
After meeting with his most recent clients, Carson had little more to go on in the case. He was heading back to the West Coast to do more of what he’d already been doing—looking for someone who had disappeared without a trace, who clearly didn’t want to be found, and who obviously was hugely misunderstood by their family.
The only additional information Carson gained on this trip was the victim was married.
Married?
Originally contracted by the immediate family, he thought he was looking for someone unconnected. The parents never brought up a spouse, and the victim was young enough for him not to assume there was one. He never would have guessed they would have left out such a pertinent detail. He didn’t ask because he assumed the family gave him all necessary personal information when he requested it, since they should want to give him everything possible to find their kin.
For a while, he considered childhood abuse of some sort, with the victim hitting the road in early adulthood, but this was something altogether different. A spouse who hadn’t been revealed at his initial meeting was now in the picture, and clearly played a larger role than anyone wanted to admit.
Why didn’t he learn about this earlier?
The spouse was “in denial,” the family said. After seven years? Really? Why didn’t the spouse initiate the case? All of them, the whole damn lot, were hiding something. He had to figure out what, and he wanted to do it fast.
Knocking back a bottle of water and two ibuprofen before ordering a mini bottle of scotch, Carson tried to unwind and clear his mind. If he wasn’t thinking about the case, he was fantasizing about Sienna. He wanted to bypass this little operation in Los Angeles this coming week and head straight to Vegas, but she wouldn’t be there.
That was the only thing stopping him. The only thing.
When he had texted Sienna the night before, she texted back that she left on her spa getaway. He didn’t want to disappear into thin air after the weekend they shared, so he thought a text or two was appropriate. Unfortunately, Sienna was short in her replies because she was with Asher, and he was working. He tried not to be resentful or question the whole scenario.