Total D*ck(57)

I glared at his retreating back. “She’s not doing this.”

“Yes. I am.” Scarlett followed Carey. I wanted to grab her, throw her over my shoulder, and lock her in a room. My stomach churned, and I couldn’t think of a way to win. I had to keep her safe, keep her away from Eric. But the set of her shoulders and the tone of her voice told me I’d be fighting a losing battle. She’d made up her mind.

Carey and Scarlett began talking about equipment as I walked over. The room they were in was lined with even more monitors, and server towers sat along the back wall, humming quietly.

“I’m going with you.” I leaned against the doorframe.

“That would be stupid. Eric wants me, not you.” She bent over as Carey explained how the little camera worked.

“We could hide it on your purse, attached to the outside. Or we could pin it to your clothes.”

“The clothes won’t do.”

Carey scratched his chin. “Why not?”

“I don’t plan to be wearing much for this plan to work.”

I tensed, every muscle in my body preparing to fight. “What?”

“The easiest way to get what I want is pillow talk.” Color rose in her cheeks as she said it, but she straightened and stared me down.

“You are not getting anywhere near Eric or a bed or a bed with Eric in it.” My jaw clenched so tightly that the words barely made it through my teeth.

“I’m doing this, Kennedy. Accept it.” She turned and began picking through the wires Carey had laid out on top of a black desk along the wall.

“May I have a word?” I tried to keep my tone even.

She stopped fiddling with the microphones. “Carey, can you get it all set up for tomorrow night? My phone is in my bag. I’ll be right back.”

“Sure. I’ll message Eric and reserve the hotel. Bedroom’s to your right. Good luck, man.” Carey shook his head at me, a tired smile on his face as he went back to sorting out the equipment.

Scarlett strode out ahead of me and turned into the bedroom. I followed and closed the door. Rope hung from some bamboo rods on the ceiling and a wide variety of differently hued twine decorated the walls. The bed looked comfortable with a crimson duvet, but the headboard was a specialty piece—an intricate latticework of industrial pipe. Some green rope was tied to it in a few spots.

“He’s taking that tie-her-up porn thing to the next level.” I surveyed the bondage-topia before turning back to Scarlett. “Look, I know you think this is the right thing to do—”

“Because it is.” She sighed and sat on Carey’s bed. “I’ve never been afraid like I have in the past two days. I can’t go my whole life feeling like this. If Rhone gets away with it, I’ll always be worrying, afraid. I can’t do that. And I can’t do that to you or Carey when I know the way to bring it all to an end.”

I sank to my knees in front of her and took her hands. “But what you’re proposing is suicide. You’ll be walking right into their clutches.”

“I know, and it’s not suicide. I’ll text Eric, tell him I’m scared and that I want to meet him at a hotel where I’m hiding out. I’ll book a room with suite so you and Carey will be in the next room monitoring. I’ll get him to talking by dressing a certain way and acting a certain way—” She halted and dropped her gaze to her knees.

Anger seethed inside me, jealousy, too, but most of all, fear. I couldn’t let her get hurt. “There has to be something else we can do.”

She shook her head. “There isn’t. Frank would never talk. Guy doesn’t know. Eric is the weakest link and I know exactly how to get to him.” She reached out and ran her palm down my cheek. “I’ll only go as far as I have to,” she whispered.

“It’s not that. I mean, it is, but I just can’t stand the thought of not being able to protect you.” I implored her blue eyes, trying to get her to agree.

“But you’ll be there. It’ll be fine. And when it’s done, we’ll be free and safe. All of us. Even . . .” Her eyes clouded.

“Faye and Clinton and Clarence and Shorty—they’re okay. Those men weren’t after them. Not really. Clinton knows what to do. They’re hunkered down somewhere safe like we are, just waiting for the dust to settle.”

She leaned down and wrapped her arms around my neck.

“I don’t like this,” I said into her hair.

“I don’t, either.”

I held her, taking comfort in her warmth and trying to give some back. She’d used my shampoo at the house, but somehow, it smelled better in her hair than mine. I stood and laid her down on the bed, cradling her in my arms as she rested her head in the crook of my neck.