The Billionaires Sub (10 page)

He was there, though, sitting on a barstool at the counter, frowning at his phone. He looked up when I came in, his expression darkening for a moment before he smiled.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked.

“I did, thank you.” Heat flooded my cheeks as I thought about how I’d slept in his shirt, how I’d dreamed about him. “Can I top you off?” I carried the coffeepot over to the counter.

He nodded, pushing his mug toward me. I filled it and then filled my own before sliding onto the bar stool next to him. His kitchen was huge. I’d thought Juliette’s place had been big, but it was nothing compared to this.

“Bad news?” I asked as I took a sip, letting the heat and caffeine work their way into me.

Cross took a drink, then looked over at me.

Shit.

I could feel the color running from my face, taking all of my warmth with it.

“Juliette?” I barely whispered her name.

He reached over and put his hand over mine. “No word yet on where she is.”

“But you do know something.”

The corners of his mouth tightened. “Mars got back to me,” he said. “My PI. He’s been working all night and had a couple things, including your test results.”

“That was fast,” I said, trying not to think of all of the horrible things that he was about to tell me.

“The lab found trace amounts of GHB in your urine.” Something dark and ugly crossed his face. “It was out of your blood, but I guess it only stays there for six to eight hours.”

“So someone slipped something into my drink,” I said it more because I needed to hear it rather than as a confirmation of a fact.

“Looks like,” he said. There was an edge to his voice that made things low inside me twist.

I took a slow breath, and then another drink of my coffee. I would need to process what happened to me – the whys, hows and whos – but I needed to hear the rest first. Juliette, then me.

“Did he find anything about my sister?” I asked.

Cross nodded. His expression was still grim, but it’d lost that extra bit of...something that had been there before.

“He’s sending me the full report if you want to read it, but the short version is that he’s found out that, the night of the party, Juliette had some trouble with the company van.”

“I already knew that,” I said, frustrated. “She told me. That’s why I was running things.”

He nodded, then leaned forward, turning so that his knee brushed mine. “Mars went to the shop that’s fixing the van and talked to the mechanic. It wasn’t car trouble. Someone cut the brakes. Your sister was just lucky she rolled into a fence instead of the brakes going out in the middle of the highway.”

I stared in shock. “Did…did they tell Juliette that?” I was trying hard not to think about all of the ways she could’ve been hurt. I’d seen too many mangled cars brought into my family’s auto shop.

Cross shook his head. “She actually told them. Apparently, she tried to find out what happened herself while she was waiting for a tow truck.” There was admiration in his voice, and I felt a faint stab of jealousy.

I pushed it aside. “We all learned most of the basics growing up. She’d know what cut brake lines look like. Why didn’t she call the cops?”

Cross raised an eyebrow. “I only know your sister by reputation. You grew up with her. You tell me why you think she didn’t.”

I sighed. “Because she wasn’t surprised and she wanted to handle things herself.”

“That’s what I’m thinking,” he agreed. “And I know why she wasn’t surprised. My PI also found some evidence that supports the theory that Juliette has a stalker.”

Chapter Twelve

My jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”

Cross linked his fingers between mine in a comforting gesture. “He doesn’t have anything definitive, but he’s worked stalking cases in the past, and he knows what the signs are. He’s pretty sure that someone’s been following Juliette, probably sending notes, emails. He’s going to dig deeper, see what he can find.”

I suddenly felt light-headed, my body limp. “A...why...I...” I couldn’t seem to get a sentence out.

“You’re wondering why she didn’t tell you.” He made it a statement rather than a question.

I nodded, unable to do much of anything else. My stomach was churning, and not in a good way.

“Your sister’s first instinct will always be to protect you.” He raised our hands, a speculative look in his eyes as he bent his head and brushed his lips across my knuckles. “You do tend to bring that out in people.” The words seemed to be more directed at himself than at me, almost as if he was figuring something out.

I pulled my hand away. I wanted the strength he offered, but I needed to think, and it was hard enough without adding in him as a distraction.

“What do we do now?” I asked, thankful my voice wasn’t shaking. I had to be an adult about this.

“First,” he said. “We call our detective friends. They need to know all of this. It changes things. It’s no longer a coincidence that someone slipped you drugs the same night your sister pulls a vanishing act.”

My throat tightened. “You think the same person who drugged me took Juliette?”

He shrugged, but there was nothing casual about the gesture. “Or there’s more than one person involved.”

I liked that even less than my own thought. Then I caught his expression and knew there was more. “What are you thinking?”

“Maybe it wasn’t someone trying to drug you to get you out of the way so they could grab Juliette.” He stood and ran his hand through his hair, but he didn’t look at me. “Maybe someone was planning on taking you, too.”

***

I didn’t tell Cross, but his theory was freaking me out. The idea that someone would want to stalk and kidnap my sister was bad enough. Thinking that they’d drugged me so they could take me too had me wondering if maybe my parents were right and I never should’ve left Ohio.

While Cross called the detectives to fill them in on what his PI had uncovered, I was left to debate whether or not I should call my parents. Part of me wanted to. I wanted them to catch the first plane to California, to be the adults and tell me it’d be all right. I’d never liked feeling helpless, and I’d never been one of those kids who went running to her parents every time something didn’t go her way. But there were times I’d wanted the strength and safety of my parents’ arms.

Now was definitely one of those times.

Except I couldn’t think that way. I had to think about the big picture. Had to remind myself that Juliette hadn’t been officially declared missing. I knew my parents and knew their attitude toward my sister. They loved her, I knew that, but I also knew that they saw Juliette as the black sheep in the family. She was the one who’d left first, the one who made decisions they didn’t agree with. If I called them, they’d want to know where I’d last seen her. Even if I just told them that we’d gone to a club, they’d think it was her fault for not only what happened to her but what also happened to me. They weren’t usually the sort of people who blamed victims, but I knew they’d blame Juliette.

I couldn’t do that to her, and I couldn’t do that to their relationship. Things were strained as they were. Listening to them accuse her of putting me in danger would break the fragile bond they still had. Once she was found, we’d talk and decide what to tell our parents and when. I’d only contact them without her if...

I pushed the thought away. I couldn’t dwell on the possibilities of ransom and blood and a body. I’d always considered myself a strong person, but this was stretching me to the limit. Juliette was my big sister, and she’d always looked out for me, even more than RJ had. Even when she’d been away, her presence had always been there. My childhood hadn’t been perfect, but I’d never been exposed to the tragedy of losing someone close to me in a sudden and violent way. The only funerals I’d attended had been two sets of great-grandparents, all of whom had died in their sleep of old age. I didn’t know how to deal with the idea that Juliette was...gone. And I couldn’t handle thinking that would be forever.

I took a shuddering breath, struggling not to cry. There was one person I did have to call, no matter how much I didn’t want to talk to her. It was Monday morning, and since the party on Friday had gone late, I knew Juliette had given her people Monday off. I didn’t know what to do about tomorrow, however, because even if Juliette came back today, I doubted she’d be in any shape to go back to work first thing.

I made the call to Emmalyn, and kept it as short as I could. I had to tell her that no one knew where Juliette was, but I didn’t tell her about the stalker, the van, or my own incident. I just needed her to send me Juliette’s appointments, and I’d take care of any business contacts that needed to be made. She offered to call the staff, which I appreciated since I still didn’t know them very well. When the call ended, I was pleasantly surprised at how well it had gone. Emmalyn hadn’t tried to argue even once.

I hung up just in time to hear the tail end of Cross’ conversation.

“No, I’m sure. I’ll pass along your offer, but I don’t think it’ll be necessary.” He paused, and then added, “Thank you. I’ll be in touch.”

He was just lowering the phone from his ear when I asked, “What offer?”

He turned toward me, his expression guarded again. I was beginning to see that this was his go-to way of looking, and I wondered how much of that was to keep himself from being hurt.

“Detective Bison is concerned for your safety, and I can’t necessarily say that I disagree.”

I shrugged, hoping it looked more convincing than it felt. “No one’s tried to get me here.”

“That was my point exactly.” Cross closed the space between us until he was only a few inches away. “The detective offered you police protection should you wish to return to your apartment and your job.”

“It’s not my apartment,” I said automatically. I looked down at my hands as a new flood of emotion came over me.

“Hanna.” His voice was gentle as he cupped my chin and raised my head until I was looking at him. “What is it?”

I could feel the burn of tears as I told him what I’d only just now realized. “This isn’t home. I mean, not here...but here’s part of it. Hollywood isn’t my home. That apartment isn’t home. I’ve only been here for a week and the only part of this place that felt like home was my sister and she’s...” I couldn’t finish the sentence.

“Do you want to go home?” he asked. He dropped his hand. “Is that what you need? To go back to Ohio, to your parents?” His mouth tightened slightly, the only indication I had that he didn’t like the idea. “I can have you on a private plane within the hour.”

For a moment, I was tempted. I could see myself getting off the plane. Hugging my mom. Going home and eating a home-cooked meal. Crawling under fresh-washed sheets in my old bedroom, surrounded by my old things. I wouldn’t have to do anything else. The police could deal directly with my parents. Emmalyn could deal with work. I could let it all go and not have to be the grown-up.

No.

I shook my head. “I don’t want to go back to Ohio, but I can’t go to the apartment by myself. Even if there were cops outside, I wouldn’t feel safe.” Another shuddering breath to try to keep the tears at bay. “I don’t know what to do.”

He brushed wayward curls back from my face, letting his hand linger, fingers tracing my cheekbone, my jaw, my lips. “You let me take care of things for you yesterday. Will you let me take care of this as well?”

I nodded, the relief that went through me so great that I closed my eyes. I’d never considered myself the sort of woman who needed a man. I’d certainly managed to survive so far without one, and my career path had never been dependent upon whether or not I was in a relationship, married or not. But there was something to be said for being able to relax into his touch, to know that he would look after me.

Cross wasn’t being domineering, telling me what to do or treating me like a child, all of the things that I’d always associated with those sorts of relationships. When Juliette told me that Cross was a Dom like her, I’d assumed those things applied to him even more. But it wasn’t like that. He was asking me to let him be in charge, not just taking what he wanted. He was treating me as an equal, but an equal who he wanted to protect.

A shiver went through me. If this was how he was in a platonic situation – well, as platonic as it could be after those kisses we’d shared – I could only imagine how he’d be in a sexual relationship.

I didn’t want to think that way. I trusted him despite how little I knew him, but I wasn’t sure I could trust him with my heart. He didn’t seem like the sort of man who’d be satisfied with a long-term, serious relationship with the goal of marriage. I didn’t think he was a sleazy sort of player, but I had a feeling he was more about the here and now. I definitely didn’t want that. Even if I did want him.

“We’re going to get out of the city.”

I opened my eyes as he stepped back and put his hands in his pockets.

“I can get us up to my cabin without anyone realizing that we’ve left,” he continued. “It’s got great security, and I don’t even think the paparazzi knows I have it. We’ll be safe there.”

He held out his hand and I reached for it automatically, letting myself feel the rush of warmth as my palm slid across his. He curled his fingers around mine in a protective gesture that made my heart squeeze in my chest.