Page 15 of The Faking Game
We’re going to kill each other.
CHAPTER6
NORA
There’s a knock on my door a few minutes later. I’m barely there before the handle rattles, and there he is. West looks me over, his eyes dipping from my toes all the way up to meet my eyes. His face is carved in stony lines.
“Are you all right?” he asks.
“Yes. It was just the flowers.”
He doesn’t wait for an invitation, just strides in, his eyes scanning the room. “It wasjustflowers that shouldn’t have been there. I saw them on the way in; my head of security has them now.” He’s wearing a charcoal gray suit that fits him perfectly, and his hair is mussed as if he’s been running his hands through it repeatedly. “We’ll trace them to the store where they were ordered and get their logbooks.”
All the air leaves me, disappears, and all that’s left is a pounding headache and annoyance. “That’s good. I just can’t believe he found me so fast.”
“Me neither.” West crosses his arms over his chest. There’s anger in every line of his body. “Rafe may have a leak.”
“Awhat?”
“Someone in his team that has been feeding information, either on purpose or accidentally. Apparently this isn’t the first time he’s suspected it, just not in regard to you.” West shakes his head. “We’ve decided that your brother won’t be informed about most of the details going forward.”
“He won’t be informed,” I whisper.
“Not in writing, and not over email. No locations, plans, or the configuration of my security team.”
I feel cold. “He followed me to New York, then.”
“Apparently he has.” West’s eyes are narrowed. “So it seems like you’re moving in with me tonight.”
“I’ve been informed.”
His eyebrow lifts. “The happiness in your voice takes my breath away.”
“You can’t be happy about it either,” I say. “Your place is far away, right?”
“An hour or so. On Long Island.” West lifts up one of the pattern books I left on the counter and leafs through it. “The timing isn’t… ideal. I’m hosting a party tonight. The place will be packed.”
“You’re hosting a party?”
He looks at me. “You sound surprised.”
“I’ve heard of the parties you, Rafe, Alex and James used to throw. Didn’t you all trash a villa once?”
The tightness around his eyes softens. “We were nineteen.”
“Old enough to know better.”
“That’s what my parents thought. And no. I’m not throwing that kind of a party. But it’s good to hear that you know about all of my teenage mistakes.”
That makes me scoff. “Notallof them. I’m sure Rafe has censored most of them.”
“Thank god.” He looks down at his watch. “We should leave in fifteen minutes or so. Pack your bags.”
“Wouldn’t I be just as safe here? Sitting on this couch for a few hours, with the guards surrounding me? I can join you when the party is over.”
West crosses his arms over his chest. He’s large like that, too large for this space, and I hate that he looks good when he does it. “We need to keep you moving and unpredictable.”
He’s serious, and that seriousness makes my stomach tighten. I thought I’d gotten away. That I’d be safe here. “But the person sent me flowers. Not a death threat,” I protest. It feels weak, half-hearted. Ihatethat I’m scared.
