A Waltz With Wolves (Book II in The Harrison Inc. Series) | ✓

Chapter Fifty: rita

Then suddenly, the gun is lowered. He doesn't say a word, just lowers the gun. I'm screaming in my head; my mind is a battlefield.

"Come on, Leslie," Claude finally says, his hand grabbing hold of mine. I'm too afraid to move; is Claude actually considering leaving now? Even though Alejandro and about five of his men stand before us at the entrance of the living room?

Alejandro locks eyes with me. I have a choice—leave with Claude or stay with Alejandro, whomever I believe has my interest at heart. Per Alejandro's words, Claude and the rest of the Harrisons aren't who they portray to the world, yet I'm holding Claude's hand and readying myself to leave with him. Sebastian said I could trust him, so my association, I can trust Claude.

In all honesty, I don't know who to trust.

When Alejandro sees me taking careful steps with Claude, his eyes lower, then close.

"Go," he tells me. "I'm sure my uncle is on his way now for me; it isn't safe for you here."

Claude doesn't have a smart remark; his face is still this expanse of shock. Claude guides me through the living room slowly, eyeing the men whose faces are serious and deadly. Alejandro looks at me once, and as we stare at each other, he tells the men in Spanish to "get ready," most likely for Salvador's looming presence. Somehow, I have this urge to want to ask exactly what he's getting ready for.

We leave before I can find out

**

I'm ushered into a car. The men inside ask Claude a plethora of questions, and Claude lies about each one as he drives.

Apparently, Alejandro escaped. Well, at least that's what Claude decided to tell everyone in the car. He claims that rendezvousing and figuring out where he escaped to is the best bet. I don't speak up because I don't know what to say; he stares at me in the rear view mirror a couple of times the duration of the drive.

I don't ask where we're going. I ask no questions, because I'm tired of bullshit answers. I keep my mouth shut, processing everything. Claude keeps looking at me in the rear-view mirror, probably scared that I'm going to bring up his lying or Alejandro's mention of the word "rita." But I don't. I've received so much information the last couple of days that I don't know how to react to it; my mind is still processing, most likely at 50 percent.

After an hour, we arrive at a familiar estate—Sebastian's house. Pulling up to the gate, I understand why I'm here: safety. The gate, the security detail that is flooding the driveway. The last time I was here, Sebastian and I almost fucked in his sports car out front. But we didn't; I told him I loved him. He said he'd wait for me to get shit figured out and that soon, we could be together. After he fixed everything, it would get easier.

But it actually got worse.

The car doors opened, men in black filing inside the mansion. I don't get out, just sit there. I sit until Claude gets out and comes to my door. He stands, his arm on the open door, waiting patiently for me to get out.

I look at him. "Was this the safest place you could think to bring me?"

He doesn't answer. In truth, I'm afraid to see Sebastian; I don't know what I'll do when I see him—slap him, punch him, kiss him. I don't know.

I finally get out of the car and near the front door, then walk inside the foyer, staring up at the large winding staircase. The sun is setting; lights are on. I hear talking from the living room right before the door shuts, then the talking is replaced with the sound of footsteps, and that's when I see him—Sebastian. He looks stressed, tired, yet a little relieved to see me in one piece. Penny comes in behind him, and to my surprise, I see Sarah and Lucas coming into the foyer as well. Sarah's phone is by her ear, most likely doing damage control for the previous night's shooting. And lastly, there's Isaac, who comes forward urgently, asking me if I'm alright. I nod, and he proceeds to explain to me something about Venetia, though it fades in my ear. He sees I'm out of it and stops talking. It isn't personal; everything is still processing. I was at 50 completion of processing.

Now I'm at 100 percent. Everything that I have gone through, from being lied to, betrayed, terrified of who the victim of the bullet was, to finding out that my boyfriend was a serial killer and being kidnapped in broad daylight comes together. And when I see Sebastian, I can't help but realize that he played an influential role in all of this.

Sebastian comes forward, approaching me with these sorry eyes—the eyes that get me every time. He wants to hold me, kiss me, tell me how sorry he is or how he's going to fix it, or maybe he's going to tell me something different. It doesn't matter though. My emotions burst like a broken floodgate, and when he's close enough, my hand raises and slaps him across his face. Everyone gasps and jumps back, seeing me do this to him. Sebastian holds his hand to his mouth, cursing quietly. This is how we left off in the library before Alejandro came in and tried to kill him.

I'm in hysterics, now. I can't stop once I start; I'm so angry at him, yet I love him. Fuck, I love him so much, and it pisses me off even more because he makes it so hard to keep faith in him. The hysterics of course include crying and shouting, pushing and shoving. I ask him a lot of questions, the most important one being "how could you?"—how could he lie to me this entire time, watching me date a serial killer without saying a word to me. I ask him how he could stand by and watch me call Alejandro my "boyfriend" even though he knew that Alejandro was working for Garrett. I keep asking him questions that include the word "why," because I need some sort of explanation. Some clarity. But I know I won't receive it; most of everyone in here has intentions on keeping me in the dark for as long as they can, with these bullshit excuses to back their motives up.

I feel a pair of arms wrap around me. Isaac pulls me away from Sebastian and tries to calm me down. No one knows what to do—even Claude stands by and watches, probably afraid I'll mention rita if he tries to intervene. Isaac eventually soothes me into calming down. I no longer see red. My anger subsides, and all I see is everyone standing around, staring at us like we're a beautiful disaster. When the tears stop rolling and my mouth stops rambling, Isaac is finally able to let me go.

"Let's go talk outside," he tells me, then extends his palm to Sebastian, signaling him not to follow. Isaac must have told Sebastian who he really is; Sebastian doesn't even try to make a move to follow me.

Isaac guides me in the other direction towards the back porch, through the wide rooms and halls of Sebastian's house. We enter the courtyard, where the fresh air calms my nerves and removes the blushed tinge that was on my skin. Isaac tells me to sit down on one of the chairs by the water fountain, and when I sit down and take in the crisp December air, I start weeping into my hands. It's too much, and so I cry. It isn't silent—it's like a child's cry, loud and expressive. Gasping for air and trying to speak but only succeeding at slurring words. Isaac rubs my shoulder and just tells me to let it out, telling me he understands and that he's sorry everything shitty is happening at once. He doesn't say he promises to keep me safe because even though we've only known each other a day, he knows I hate that. Instead, he apologizes for this afternoon and not being on his guard before Alejandro's orchestrated kidnapping, and he also tells me that I have every right to be upset at Sebastian as much as I am upset at Alejandro, because Sebastian fucked up, too.

"You don't have to," Isaac starts, "But it's best if you stay here until further notice. Today was a painful reminder of how seriously we need to take this."

I already knew this was the case, but still, staying in Sebastian's house after slapping him isn't the best idea in my head.

"He means well," Isaac says when I don't respond. "He just doesn't know what he's doing."

"I could have told you that," I say to him, my voice a nasally mess. Still, I don't bother to oppose with the idea, because at the end of the day, it isn't safe for me at my apartment, and I don't feel comfortable staying at a hotel where any of the staff can be paid to give up information about my whereabouts.

Isaac continues, never saying his name but only referring to him as "he." "He suggested it when Claude went to find you. Knew it would be safer for you here."

Again, my silence prevails. Isaac leaves, telling me that I'd only have to stay here until they find Alejandro since Claude told him that he escaped. I should tell him that Claude let Alejandro off, but I decide against it, because I think of rita again, and know that I'll never know what it is if I rat him out. But then again, Claude is the reason that I have to be here in the first place; he could have ended it, once and for all, in that living room. The more I think of it, the more I wonder if "ending it" is what I would have wanted to see.

Is it what I want to see? To know?