Page 52 of Bitter Truth
“Jake?”
Director Marla Jacobson’s voice holds a note of panic that I’ve heard only a few times before—and always because of the jeopardy I’ve been put in. I try not to think about all the years that might have been shed off the poor woman’s life because she cares about me.
“No, it’s me.”
“Cassidy! Oh thank goodness. Are you okay?”
“Yes.”
“Are you safe?”
I meet Jake’s gaze as he watches me with concern. Did he know that I needed this? Confirmation that what he said was true, that Marla knew what was going on and was helping him?
The glimpse of hurt I catch on his face as he turns away makes me suspect so. That he knows I have doubts about trusting him. But do I really? I’m suffering my own hurt, but if I suspect, even for a second, that his intentions are anything other than what he wants me to believe, all I have to do is speak the words right now to Marla.
Drawing a deep breath, I say, “Yes. I will be. I just wanted to let you know… I think we’re going off the grid for a while.”
She exhales heavily. “That’s not ideal, but I understand the decision. You’ll let me know if you need anything?”
“I will.”
Ending the call, I hand the phone back to Jake. Watch as he puts it in the glove box, closes and locks the doors to his truck. Then, wrapping an arm around my shoulders, he leads me toward the white sedan.
“So what’s the plan?” I ask. “We can’t just run from Bianchi’s men until he loses interest.”
Jake stiffens beside me. I cast a wary glance at him from the corners of my eyes. A gush of ice water floods through me. He looks completely stricken.
“What aren’t you telling me?” I ask, heart kicking at the walls of my chest as I take a big step away, pulling out from under his arm. I come to a stop, waiting for an answer. “Jake?”
He closes his eyes. Squeezes the bridge of his nose and releases a giant sigh before saying softly, “Bianchi’s dead. He was stabbed to death Monday morning at the prison.”
I rock back on my heels, trying to keep my balance as a curtain of dizziness drops over me. If that’s true, then why are we on the run? Why would Jake need to pay a quarter of a million dollars to be the highest bidder to get me back? Had he purposely waited to tell me this until after I had spoken to Marla?
“Then shouldn’t this be over?”
He shakes his head sadly. “I’m sorry, Cassie.”
Yet another apology, but still no explanation.
“For what?” I ask sharply. “What’s going on? I want the truth this time, the full one.”
My stomach churns as his gaze meets mine, because whatever it is that he’s so sorry about? His agonized expression tells me it’s going to be a doozy.
“I’m sorry because it wasn’t Bianchi who put out the hit on you.” I hear the click of his throat as he swallows hard. The wavering breath he draws. The pure grief in his voice as he says, “It was my mother.”
CHAPTER 27
The ground rushes up to meet me as I sit down. Hard. The sound of the ocean fills my ears, a noise that I vaguely recognize as the blood rushing through my head too fast.
Jake’s on his knees beside me with a panicked expression. His lips are moving, but I can’t hear a word he’s saying. I stare at his hands, wrapped around mine. I can’t feel him, either.
How long has he known? What part has he played? And why is he only telling me this now? Raising my eyes to his, I blink away the tears clouding my vision, looking for the truth.
“Cassie.” His voice is pure anguish as it breaks through my thundering pulse to reach my ears.
“You’ve been visiting her,” I say, my tone cold and distant.
He nods, swallowing hard.
