Hush (Black Lotus #3) (31 page)

“You didn’t take advantage of me, Pike.” I take his hand from my cheek and hold it in my own. “It was me. I took advantage of
you
. I knew you were in love with me, and I used that to steal from you. I took your love, and I used it to comfort my pain. And I am
so sorry
I played with your emotions the way I did.”

“Don’t be sorry.”

He takes me into his arms, and as we hold each other, I ask, “Do you still feel that way about me?”

“No.”

“Does it hurt you to see me with Declan?”

Relaxing his grip, he pulls away and runs his hands down my arms.
“No.”
He holds both of my hands and we sit face to face on the bed.
“I love you, I always will and nothing will ever change that. But something happened when I died. The way I loved you changed. I know Declan is good for you. He’s able to love you and care for you in a way I wouldn’t have ever been capable of. Seeing you two together settles me. I know you’re going to be okay in this life because of him.”

“You and Declan are the best things that ever happened to me in this shitty life.”

“And you are the best thing that ever happened to me when I was alive. And Declan is the best thing that’s happened to me in my death, because he’s giving you everything I wanted to but couldn’t. You’re the best part of me, you know?”

I look into the eyes of my savior, and although I wish I could turn back the hands of time and not have pulled that trigger, at least I know he’s moved on to a better place. And now, in his death, he goes on to serve as my orenda in this vicious world. He claims that it’s only Declan who provides my safety and comfort, but it’s the both of them together that blend the elixir that just might be my saving grace.

I hate that I had to leave Elizabeth back at the apartment, but I don’t feel safe handling this situation with Lachlan around her. Between his calls to Camilla and the insinuations from my father that Lachlan is withholding information from me, trust is now riddled with uncertainty.

I’m a sparking fuse dangling over gasoline as I make my way to his hotel. Hot off the kill from the other day, I’ve been unable to quell the viperous animal inside me. It’s spitting at me to fix my own unresolved issue—the way I handled Elizabeth’s for her. But I will go to any length possible to ensure Elizabeth’s safety. I failed to protect her from Matt putting a hit on her—I won’t fail again.

With my pistol holstered under my suit jacket, I step off the elevator and make my way down to his room. After a couple swift knocks, the door opens, and I whip out my gun, barreling the muzzle into Lachlan’s forehead. I use the force of the gun to push him into the room and then kick the door closed.

“What the hell?” His wide eyes are consumed with sheer horror and fear.

I back him up as he lifts his hands in surrender, and when he falls back into a chair, I hiss venomously, “I’m going to give you one more chance to tell me what the fuck you are doing talking to Camilla and my father before I put a bullet in your head. You’ve seen me do it before, so make no mistake, I
will
do it again.”

“What I told you was the truth.” His words tremble just as his hands do.

“And now I’m demanding the
whole
truth.”

I bring my thumb up and engage the hammer, chambering a round, and he gives in to the fear like a whore’s pussy.

“Jesus! Okay! Okay!”

“I’m not fucking around!”

“Shit, okay. Please, relax with the gun, man,” he blurts out in a panic. “I’ll tell you everything, just . . .”

“Start talking!” My bark is pure sulfur, and he’s terrified as he squirms, slipping down into the chair. “Now!”

“I’m stealing from Cal,” he jabbers out instantly.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I’m . . . It’s . . . The thing is—”

“Goddammit!”

“I can’t fucking think with a gun to my head!” he hollers from his slouched position in the chair, and I draw the gun back, keeping it targeted on him. His eyes never stray from my weapon. I stand a few feet back and watch as he clumsily sits up.

“Start talking.”

“Camilla called me when your father was arrested. When she realized the evidence was stacked against him, she knew she’d be left out to dry without a penny. She called me, told me her crazy scheme to embezzle his money. She had it all planned out. Told me to reach out to him. She figured he’d be desperate to have someone in his corner, and aside from the fallout we had when I found out about the two of them, I was, in fact, a man he had thoroughly trusted for years.”

“Speed it up.”

“I reached out to him with the help of Camilla, and before I knew it, he was wanting me to keep an eye on you, which was when I started reporting to him about you,” he confesses.

“You told him about Elizabeth?”

“Yes.”

“Get to the part that’s going to save your life and spare me the headache of cleaning up your murder,” I threaten.

“Camilla convinced him to trust me to launder his hidden assets through your charity foundation. She vowed we’d split it fifty-fifty, but I had my own plans. I promise you I never filtered any of that money through any of your businesses.”

“Where is it?”

“With a junket in Macau.”

I disengage the hammer and lower my pistol, and Lachlan drops his hands and releases a heavy breath of relief.

“I never lied when I assured you have my loyalty. You and Elizabeth, but never your father, and if that’s an issue with us then—”

“It’s not an issue. He’s done,” I tell him and then take a moment to process the fact that this man has taken it upon himself to undermine my father and his girlfriend for financial gain in the name of revenge.

“This is why Camilla keeps calling. I had to keep her believing that we were on the mend and working together, but I just got word the other day that he’s been indicted. It’s only a matter of time before he confesses. He knows he’s safer in prison than out. If he allows this to go to trial, it won’t matter if he wins or loses—he’s a dead man.”

He’s right. I know him admitting his guilt to forego a trial will be inevitable. A trial would mean witnesses and handing over names. It would be him turning his back on those only a man with a death wish would do. Which is why I refuse to allow Elizabeth to get worked up about her crimes being uncovered.

“I need you to go back. You said the money was with a junket?” I ask. “I’m not skilled in the world of embezzling, so I need you to tell me what’s going on. No more bullshitting me.”

“Working in the world of finance all my life, I’ve come to know a handful of shifty people. One of them was able to hire me a junket in China. For a twenty percent fee, he exchanges my cash for poker chips. With Macau being the casino capital of the world and Hong Kong having so many intermediaries that are willing to transfer funds to anywhere without asking too many questions, it was my safest option.”

“What happens with the chips?”

“My junket gambles a little and then cashes them in along with other gamblers’ legitimate chips. The casino accountant then books my money as paid-out winnings.”

“Where does the money go?”

“The funds are wire-transferred in such a way that the money crosses multiple borders to frustrate detection.”

“Explain,” I demand needing to know exactly how he plans on transferring what I assume to be millions.

“For instance,” he continues, “the money might end up in a US trust managed by a shell company in Grand Cayman, owned by another trust in Guernsey with an account in Luxembourg, managed by a Swiss or Singaporean or Caribbean banker who doesn’t know who the owner is. It’s a whirlwind, basically.”

“Were you ever going to tell me?”

He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and then looks up to me. “There’s no way to answer that. If I say yes, you’ll think I’m a liar. If I say no, you’ll think I’m a liar for the mere fact I never told you. But, if you need confirmation of where my interests lie, then I’ll give you the accounts. You see, the money was simply a bonus to Camilla landing on her ass, dirt poor and alone. The latter was the capstone.”

Testing him, I click the barrel open and dump the bullets. I walk over to him, lay the gun on the desk, and tell him, “I want all the accounts.”

“Now?”

“Now.”

He gets up and steps to his laptop next to my unloaded pistol. I follow, and when he sits in the desk chair, I stand over his shoulder. I watch as he bypasses the Internet and accesses the deep web through Tor, which is an anonymity network that insures nothing he does will be indexed.

In a few quick swipes of the keyboard, numbers and codes begin to filter in. “There you go,” he says and then points to the screen, explaining, “This column lists the country codes, this one here lists account and routing numbers, and this column here is—”

“Close it down.”

He looks at me in confusion but does as I instruct and proceeds to logoff. I’m satisfied that without the threat of force, he handed over all the information without an inkling of hesitation.

“I don’t want his money. You can do whatever you want with it.”

Lachlan closes the lid to his laptop, picks up the gun, takes one bullet from the floor, and slides it into one of the cylinders. He then gives it a spin before locking it into place.

“Here,” he says in an even tone as he hands me the gun. “I’d take a bullet for Elizabeth. You on the other hand . . . I need to come down from you shoving that muzzle into my head, but I’d take a bullet for you as well. You want me to prove my loyalty to you?” He takes a couple steps back. “Pull the trigger.”

A sane man would take his word for it, but the gesture isn’t enough for me, not after everything that has compromised my life and Elizabeth’s. She’s much too precious to take anyone’s word at face value. So I stretch my arm out in front of me, but with a slight adjustment, one that Lachlan won’t be able to detect, I mark his right arm as my target.

He offered this test of integrity, and when I cock back the hammer, I slip my finger over the trigger, and follow through.

I squeeze and fire, but all that sounds is the
snick
from the chamber rounding.

Lachlan’s face drops, stunned that I pulled the trigger and then relieved when he realizes his game of Russian roulette just played out in his favor. He falls back into the chair as I holster my gun. And now that I have the confirmation that the only reason he withheld information from me was to fuck over Camilla and my father, I turn and walk to the door.

“Stop by later this afternoon. Elizabeth would enjoy seeing you now that we’re back,” I say without turning around.

And then I leave.

ELIZABETH IS STILL
in bed sleeping when I get home from a long day of meetings. It’s been days of the same. She’s heartbroken and trying to cope with losing her father for the second time in her life, so I haven’t wanted to push her too much. I’m worried though. She’s been living in shades of darkness since we returned from the States. It’s more than the moping around that concerns me though. After my talk with Lachlan the other day, I came home and heard her voice coming from the bedroom. But she was in there alone. When I opened the door, I could tell she had been crying, so I decided not to question her.