Feathers and Thorne Series Books 1 - 3: The Complete Collection

Chapter Thirteen

Isabella

I’ve made it to Thursday without seeing Carter Blackthorne again. I still glance over my shoulder when I feel the heavy grip of focus on my back, but he’s a phantom, after all. When I turn, he’s gone. Maybe he was never there to begin with; it’s hard to know for sure.

It’s also hard to focus. I’ve been running around all week trying to avoid the Lacey bosses and the impending feeling of doom that hangs over my father in the hospital.

My luck in avoiding these issues runs out when Jacob enters the office trailer at the job site, coming to stand at my desk, where he thoughtfully keeps his gaze off any part of my body that lies below my throat.

“I have some paperwork that needs to be sent over to the mayor’s office,” he says. “It’s important. I need it to be there tonight.”

I check my watch, knowing it’s dark already outside without having to go out there and look. My knees and ankles ache at the thought of walking all the way downtown to hand the mayor something.

“Can I fax it instead?”

“No, Bella, it’s important,” he bites. “I need to be sure he gets it directly.”

I consider asking him to wait, to give me another day, so I don’t have to travel there by night without a car, but seeing his smug features explains everything I need to know. He’s punishing me because of the Cater Blackthorne fiasco.

My hands take the file, but my mind begs me not to.

“I’ll take it over there right away,” I groan, realizing I should have left hours ago to avoid all of this.

“Good, baby,” he says with a hint of a wink. “Be careful out there.”

Tonight, of all nights, he doesn’t offer me a ride. It’s as to be expected, of course. Whatever thrill Jacob had wanted with me before is impossible now. Instead, he is forced to turn my life into a nightmare in other ways.

I get to walking right away, knowing it’s better to carry my heels in my hand than it is to walk in them. The city is asleep for now, but never fully. The lights are bright, like the billboards and signs of the Las Vegas strip. At least there, I don’t think it smells like Manhattan.

It’s cigarettes and coffee, sometimes mixed together in this odd hint of caffeinated tobacco leaves. I wouldn’t ever choose to live here if it weren’t for the excellent care they take of my father, but the price to do so comes with a heavy burden.

The mayor’s office is huge and domelike, with a few flickering lights resonating from the offices above. I never did ask if the mayor would even be in office this late, but I guess he burns the midnight oil, the same as I do. It’s an unfortunate byproduct of the city that never sleeps… and the construction company that never clocks out.

It’s a short elevator ride up to the top floor, my eyes squinting as I walk through the dark waiting room toward the fogged glass of the office. Frances Johnson, the nameplate reads on the wall, his voice leaking into the waiting room while he sounds just like he does on the nightly news segment.

“I don’t know about this. He obviously knows what happened that night,” the mayor says, speaking in a low, husky growl. “I say we cut him off.”

I step back, looking to the elevator and wondering if I can drop the file here on the floor and leave so I won’t have to walk into a meeting in progress. I’m stopped, though, not by the need to fulfill this job request by my pushy boss but by the sound of the familiar voice echoing back to the mayor.

“You’re spooked by everything, Frances. Relax, go get a drink and let me handle the rest,” Carter Blackthorne utters, his voice a hefty exhale in disguise.

“No, Carter, fuck no,” Frances snaps, his voice untamed by frustration now. “I want this solved now. Right fucking now.”

It’s a long moment before I feel my feet working, but a shorter time before I hear something deafening erupt from behind the office doors. I can’t see the mayor or the ever-present Blackthorne, but I can spy through the small crease of the doorway to see a man laid out on the floor.

The crimson puddle around his head doubles in size while I try to process the scene before me.

The light buffers, and a tall and handsome silhouette breaks through the doors shortly after. I drop my shoes and the file, backing away with every intent to run, but I can’t. Husky arms find my waist and loop around me in a strangling grip.

The freshly dead body on the floor of the office is in plain view now. I break against Carter Blackthorne, my entire body rattling in heat that can’t be quenched.

“Well, dove, I didn’t expect to see you here,” Carter breathes into my head, his voice rumbling like a deep snort against my back. “If you wanted to see me, you could have just come to the club.”

I eye the file, then the mayor, both of which seem hardly important anymore.

“What the hell is this?” Mayor Frances charges forward.

Carter keeps his arms loosely hung around my sides, pinning me to his chest. “Easy now, Mayor. Don’t go spooking my little bird. She’s skittish.”

I can’t peel my eyes off the body, and the mayor knows it too.

“She’s a witness to a murder, Carter! Fuck her skittishness. Handle this right now or else…”

“Or what?” Carter says, his tone changing in a quick snap. “You’re threatening me, Frances? I’m pretty fucking sure you work for me, so if you want to take that route, I’ll pay off your replacement, and you can be on the floor in there, choking on your own fucking fluids. Got it?”

The mayor throws up his hands, knocking over a few glasses as he shifts around a silver tray of dark liquor. Everything sweeps over me at once, and I push to be released from Carter’s arms, but he refuses to let me go that easily.

I at least turn away from the body, pressed into his solid chest, where I can feel the chrome, cold pistol tucked into his waistband. It makes me gasp, piecing together their words and the sight of the aftermath, to know that I was there right before.

Carter Blackthorne is into something more dangerous than money deals with simple construction companies. I fight his arms, but he almost seems expectant of it. His hands find my wrists and force them behind my back. He holds me there until I settle or at least fake it.

“Let me go. I shouldn’t be here,” I beg through tear-filled eyes.

Carter purrs against me, “Why did you come here tonight?”

I kicked the file with my foot, furious I didn’t just wait until Jacob left the office so I could fax it over instead. “Jacob told me to bring the mayor this file, but I… I…”

My throat is suffocated, but not by his grip. I’ve never seen much death, especially not in this forum. My mother’s funeral was as close as I came to the sight of the afterlife. But to watch the blood creep forward on the tile floor of the mayor’s office, I can’t process the sight very well.

Carter moves my chin, in turn moving my focus, and I feel dizzy with the dread that fills my chest quickly.

“Looking a little faint, dove,” Carter breathes, his tone stern by nature.

“She just saw you kill someone!” Frances bites, stepping over the body without a care. “In my office, nonetheless. Dammit, Carter, handle her!”

I jump at that word handle. The last time I heard it in this office, a gunshot followed.

Looking up at Carter Blackthorne, I eye the riddle of a man that he is. He follows me even when he is nowhere to be seen. It’s my own damn fault for stealing Jacob’s money from his office. Without that, I wouldn’t be stuck in Carter’s arms in the first place, squirming to not end up like the body on the floor.

“I’m taking Isabella home,” Carter snaps. “She won’t say a thing about tonight. Right, dove?”

“Y-yes,” I mutter through a clenched jaw. “Won’t say any… anything.”

Frances rolls his eyes, obviously against this idea, but he doesn’t argue against it any longer. I get the overwhelming notion that Carter walks into this office the same as he walked into Jacob Lacey’s; he owns it, even if he doesn’t actually own it.

No matter how frightened I am of him, something tells me I’m safer with him than I am with Frances and the bleeding body on his floor.