Page 28 of Cole

The hallway door opened, and the light lit up the room. One brief second…and I saw him. I saw the man who had interrogated me. I saw his back, then his profile as he turned down the hallway.

I saw him.

My entire body turned cold. He was a traitor. And I hadn’t told. I hadn’t been able to tell, and then I forgot when I woke up. How could I forget? I cursed myself silently, feeling tears of frustration on my cheeks. I had to tell Cole. He had to know.

“Addison?” Sia straightened up in her chair. She winced, trying to pull her hand away. “You’re killing my hand.”

I had a death grip.

“Addison, seriously. You’re going to break my fingers. I didn’t know you were this strong—” She squeaked, prying her hand from mine. “Holy shit.” She shook it out slowly, feeling her fingers and frowning. “What’s wrong?” She started to get out of her chair. “I can get someone. Dorian’s here. He can tell you you’re safe. No one’s getting in here to get you.”

I shook my head, jerking it from side to side. She couldn’t do that. “No!” My damn voice—it was barely a loud whisper.

“No?” She stood by the bed. “Addison, you’re freaking me out. What’s wrong?”

“I—” My throat started to spasm. I couldn’t talk, or I couldn’t rush it, at least. I had to go slowly to get the words out. Taking a big damned calming breath, I forced myself to speak slowly, “Phone. Call Cole.”

“I can do that.” Sia grabbed the phone next to the bed and held it out. “What’s his number?”

Our gazes caught—I had no idea. She grimaced, then perked back up. She began searching through drawers. “I’m sure he’s got his number around here…maybe? Maybe not. And you know, they didn’t want me to have my phone so I can’t even use that some way.” She gestured to the hallway. “Let me ask Dorian. I’m sure he has Cole’s number.”

No, no, NO! I shook my head as fast as I could, but the words wouldn’t come out. She left, and along with her, my only hope.

Fuck that.

Every part of my body was hurting, but I slipped from the bed—and crumpled to the floor. I landed hard, feeling stabbing pain shoot up my legs, but I gritted my teeth and scooted to the bathroom. I didn’t want to leave Sia on her own, but if she didn’t know, maybe he’d leave her alone? It was my only chance, so as I heard her coming back, I grabbed the phone and went into the bathroom.

“Addison?”

I looked back. She was coming around the corner, another shadow behind her. A larger one, and he turned with her, almost towering over her. I paused, the phone in one hand and my other reaching for the bathroom handle. Our eyes met, and his narrowed.

“Addison, what are you doing?” Sia asked.

Dorian’s nostrils flared. His hand came down on Sia’s shoulder, and he began to pull her behind him. He surged toward me, and I slammed the door shut. I hit the lock a fraction of a second before he was there, yanking on the handle.

“Ms. Bowman.” He sounded so damned professional.

I kicked at the door, then regretted it. My ankle began to throb. I grabbed it, just holding on as he knocked on the door again. “Addison, if you tell me what’s the matter, I can probably assist you.”

Asshole. I couldn’t say a word, and he knew it. He’d hurt Sia.

“Addison? Come on.” Sia was becoming impatient. “This is ridiculous. You wanted me to call Cole. Dorian can do that for you. That’s what you wanted, right?” Her voice grew quieter. “You can do that? You’ll call Cole for her?”

“Mr. Mauricio is out handling business. I’m sure he’ll call as soon as he’s able.”

“Yeah.” Sia bought it. “You’re right.” She stepped closer to the door. “Did you hear that? Cole will call us. I’m sure the second he has his phone, he’ll call. Dorian’s right. Come on, Addison. Come back out. We can both snuggle in that bed of his—have you seen the bed? It should have its own Instagram page. It’s like nothing I’ve seen. Huge. And the sheets?” She groaned. “I felt them before. I’m pretty sure that’s Egyptian cotton.”

A growl formed at the base of my throat. She wasn’t helping, and I couldn’t say a goddamn word. I hit the door with my fist, still holding my aching ankle in the other hand. The longer I kept quiet, the better chance Sia would remain alive.

Enough was enough.

I didn’t want to involve the cops, but I had no other choice. Lifting the receiver, I dialed 9-1-1 and held my breath, hoping this would save the day without putting Cole behind bars.

“Addison?” Sia pressed against the door.

“Ms. Bowman.” Dorian was right next to her. I could see their shoes.

“Emergency. What is your loca—”

The line went dead. I hung up and tried again. Nothing. I kept hitting the hang-up lever to try again, but nothing. I started crying. This couldn’t be happening.

“Why’d you do that?” Sia asked, her voice suddenly different.

I froze, phone in hand.

“You yanked out the cord,” she said. “Why…I mean, why would you do that?”

No, no, no! She couldn’t ask more questions. I tossed the phone aside and began hitting the door with my palm. She needed to shut up.

I kept banging, as hard as I could. Maybe the other men would come in. There had to be more than Dorian. Sia said there were two. I hit the door with my entire arm, then both arms. I couldn’t yell, so I kicked with my good foot, too.

I whaled on the door until I heard a loud thud on the other side.

Then I stopped, my heart pounding.

What had happened?

I looked under the door, and their shoes were gone. I heard the soft tread of footsteps, and I gulped as Dorian’s feet reappeared.

His voice came through right at my level; he must’ve squatted down. “If you don’t come out of there, I am going to kill your friend.”

“Don’t,” I said, still so hoarse. “Please.”

“She’ll stay alive, but only if you come with me.”

I still didn’t know why Dorian was doing this. Who was he, really? I just knew he was a killer. He’d kill Sia. I had no doubt, and I had no options. It was my life for hers. My vision tunneled as panic and icy calm battled within me. I needed a weapon. Looking around, my head felt suddenly heavy, and I couldn’t see anything. God, I needed something—the phone! I yanked out the cord that connected the receiver and the base, and tucked the receiver into my…what the hell was I wearing? I had on a shirt and pajama pants. There were no pockets, nothing. I tucked the receiver into the waistband at the back of my pants and pulled them tight to keep it there. I gripped them in the front, hoping Dorian would think I was just scared. Which I was.

With near hysteria slicing through me, and my legs feeling like lead, I scooted back and unlocked the door.

There he was. He had squatted down, and his eyes were so hard. He smirked, looking like the murderer he was. “Good girl.”





My stomach twisted with disgust.

Dorian clamped a hand on my bad arm and yanked me out of the bathroom. The pain was almost blinding, and I bit back a scream as he said, “We don’t have a lot of time. I don’t know what you did in there, but if a call got through, you might’ve just gotten a whole lot more people dead.”

Sia was on the bed, her eyes closed and her head bleeding.

“What are you talking about?” I rasped. The pain was almost numbing now as he dragged me out of the room.

He paused, glancing down. “I see I didn’t crush your throat enough. You can talk, huh?” His eyes held the same murderous glint as they had when he was interrogating me. “I’ll have to fix that real soon.”

I could see his grip crushing my hand, but I didn’t feel it. Sia had said two men, but as Dorian pulled me all the way from Cole’s bedroom down to the kitchen, I saw no one. They were gone.

“Ah. You’re looking for help, huh?” He tsked me. “You’re going to be a pain in my ass, aren’t you? No one’s here, Addison. They’re gone, and you want to know why? Because I’m the building manager. I’ve been with Cole since the beginning, even before he came back. I was one of the first he put in place, so that means they trust me. They all trust me.”

We moved through the kitchen to the elevator. Then he let me go. My hip hit the floor with a thump—a fresh burst of agony. Layers of pain on top of more pain. It was all starting to blend.

Dorian put the code in, calling the elevator, and as we waited, he glanced down at me.

He was smiling.

The asshole was smiling.

“Oh, don’t give me that look,” he said, shaking his head. “You have no idea what I’ve been through or what I’ve had to do. Do you know what it’s like? I’ve been loyal to the Bertal family for years, and when they said they needed a rat in the Mauricio family, I volunteered. They told me I was going in deep, and they weren’t kidding.”

He squatted, looking at me with narrowed eyes. “I buddied up to Cole when he was in hiding. I waited six weeks, and then I made the call. I knew what party he was going to, what car he was riding in. I gave them directions. They were supposed to kill him, and my job was supposed to be done. But it didn’t happen that way. The fucker killed them instead. Some of those guys were good guys. They were my friends, Addison.”

The elevator arrived. When the doors opened, his hand clamped around my ankle, and he threw me inside. I hit the back wall and crumpled to the floor as he stepped in with me, whistling. He hit the override, and then the button for the basement.

He leaned back, folding his arms, and winked. “We can’t have any surprises. Cole and his men are gone. I gave them the location of one of the Bertal warehouses. Told ’em it was another tip. The drive out there is a good four hours each way. The guards left behind are circling the running track. There was a breach by one of the exit doors there, and apparently I saw someone slip out. They’ll be searching for a good hour.” He grinned, so smug. “All the cameras are down, and the only one who could do anything to stop me is Ken. Too bad someone knocked him out. Oops.”

Fucker. “Why? Why are you doing this?”

He laughed, rolling his eyes. “That’s the funniest part. This is all because of me, but everyone thinks it was because of you.” He shook his head, his laugh lingering. “This all started before your husband died. In a way, it’s the reason he died.”

I frowned. “What?”

The elevator stopped, but he hit the button to keep the doors closed and locked the elevator in place. “This might take a while, so bear with me. Once I get you in the car, that’ll be it. I’ll shoot you, throw you in the trunk, and ditch you as soon as I get to my spot. But you can die knowing why you’re dying. I mean, I’d want to know.”

I sneered. “How generous of you.”

He frowned. “You don’t have to be snooty. If you don’t know want to know…” He reached for the button to open the doors.

“No!” I cried. “I want to know. Please. I want to know.”

He held my gaze, studying me.

I held my breath. Please, God—I need more time.

He withdrew his hand, folding it over his chest once again. “Okay. I’ll tell you, and then that’s it.” He sat on the floor of the elevator with me, softening his voice. “Your husband was a counselor at Haven Center, the place where my brother, Dusty, was a patient. He’s an addict. He was in for treatment, and he trusted your husband because he came from Bea’s line and because everything’s confidential, patient/counselor privilege or whatever the hell it is. COPA? COBRA? No. HIPPA. That’s it. Anyway, apparently Dusty ran his mouth about the family, and about me, too. I’d just been promoted because I volunteered for deep cover. Everything was fine until one day my brother was leaving his session, and as he walked out, a Mauricio walked in. Another fucking patient, can you imagine that? So my bro recognized this guy, and he backtracked. He watched as the dumbfuck went inside and went right to your husband. And you know what those two did?”

Clearly he didn’t expect an answer. He barely paused to take a breath. “They shook hands. That was it. That was all Dusty saw, but it was enough. In one instant, your husband went from alive to dead. I heard he was a nice guy. Dusty told me later he probably kept the secrets like he’d promised. But he died anyway, so it didn’t matter. Everything got shelved away.”

My stomach flipped over. If I’d had anything in it, I would’ve spewed it out, right on Dorian’s feet.

“I was in deep cover doing my thing, keeping watch over the fucking spoiled kid. I didn’t find any of this out until I got back, but a war started between my family and the Mauricios. Sure, there’s peace now—well, not now, but there was. And we’d had moments of peace before then until the Mauricios, they wiped us clean. A lot of good guys were killed by that fucker Carter and your boy. We kept getting hit, and we had no clue how they found us, but they did. There was a lot of stuff happening at that time. Some of Cole’s uncles turned on him—one of them was the reason I was put in place, but then the war was over. They told me to stay put, just in case Mauricio backtracked, trying to find out who tipped off the Bertals about his car. That was the first of two breaks. Cole came back, and guess who he found still in place? Me. I was still there, pretending to be his buddy. But inside I was mourning my friends who died. I didn’t know what to do. I had no mission anymore, and I wanted to make someone pay.” He rolled his eyes. “I said all the right words, and it worked.” A cold gleam resurfaced in his gaze. “Your boy asked me to work for him, and voila! I’ve been in his trusted circle ever since.”

“He made you his building manager.” I spat. “How trusted is that?”

“Shut up, bitch.” He smacked me across the face.

I tasted blood in my mouth, but I clamped down. No way was I going to cry out, no way I’d give him that satisfaction. I spoke, swallowing some of the blood, “What does this have to do with me?”

“Oh.” He chuckled. “Oh yeah. That was all me. I’m sorry. You see, I’m tired of being in deep cover. There has been peace between the two families, so until something happened where I’d be forced to blow my cover, I’ve been stuck here. I’ve been busy. I’ve been looking for a way out. I was the one who gave your friend the building’s phone number. I did my research. She was your only friend, and I had to make sure you were the only one she’d actually give the number to. Once I was sure, I slipped her the piece of paper and sat back and waited. I wasn’t sure what I’d do if you didn’t take the bait, but you did. Eventually.”

He shrugged. “I might’ve given you a push to be sure. I saw the bags under your eyes and figured maybe you weren’t sleeping. So there might’ve been a recording of your husband’s voice that I played sometimes. It was on an eight-hour loop. Did that work? Was that what pushed you to come here?”

He seemed eager to know, like a little boy who wanted approval, or even congratulations. I offered nothing, glaring at him.

“Whatever.” He leered at me. “But yeah. That was all me. Once I got you here, I knew the conspiracy theories would start. I reported that you’d moved in right away, and the wheels were in motion. The Bertals started wondering if Liam told about me. They didn’t think so, but they were still worried.” He scowled. “They weren’t worried enough, though. They were willing to wait it out, so I had to up everything. I told them you were sleeping with him, and that was it. I’d been holding on to that gem. You never know when you might need an ace up your sleeve, but I had to relinquish it, and it did the trick. They decided to grab you. And now, here we are.” He was smiling again. “We’re in a position where I have to blow my cover to take you out, and trust me, I am more than willing.”

He was almost gleeful as he stood back up and hit the button.

Now. I had to do something. I stalled for time, saying quickly, “You said you got two breaks. The first was Cole coming back to get you. What was the second?”

I was half listening. I didn’t care what he was going to say. I reached back to grab the phone receiver still in my waistband.

“Oh.” He fell quiet.

Uncharacteristically quiet. I stilled, focusing on him again.

“Yeah. That.” His mouth twisted. “It was your husband.”

The doors opened.

He stuck his hand out, holding them in place.

“What?” An impending doom rolled in. I felt it coming, covering me like a dark shadow.

“There was a hit on him, but I told you it didn’t matter in the end. He died anyway, but it wasn’t us.”

I shook my head. I knew this. “It was a drunk driver.”

“No. The driver wasn’t drunk, and no statements were taken by the police. You never knew that?”

“What?” I didn’t… I couldn’t… What was he saying?

“I have cops on my payroll. Your friend is going to find out, but I can delay it.”

Cole said that.

“No.” I had it wrong. “No way.”

“We weren’t the only ones who had a hit on your husband, and we weren’t the ones who fulfilled it.”

“You’re saying—no. I don’t believe you.”

“Believe me, Addison. It was your boyfriend who had your husband killed. That ‘drunk’ driver was also your driver, until recently.”

Carl…