I’m not telling him our source, especially as I don’t know who it is, or that it was searched illegally. If there’s one thing we journalists do well, it’s protecting our sources.
Throwing my phone into my bag, I zip it up and swing it onto my shoulder.
“It’s what we do.”
“Sounds like he doesn’t want to be found.”
That doesn’t mean he can’t be...or that he won’t. But it raises huge questions.
Why would the government seal his records?
Was his father truly that evil during his childhood?
What else happened?
Does Travis know about any of this?
Travis puts his phone and wallet into his pocket, and we both startle when someone knocks on the door.
The porter.
“Ready?” he asks, and his tone is still on edge as I nod and park my thoughts until tomorrow when I’m home and can think more clearly.
Once we’re in the air, Travis tucks his hand between my thighs and reads his device like nothing was said and we’re a happy couple returning from vacation.
Which we aren’t.
Whatever we are, there’s a huge unspoken divide between us made up of secrets. The question is why and what’s in it for Travis?
Open your eyes.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
TRAVIS
––––––––
Stepping off the jet, I take Brook’s hand and walk down the steps. At the bottom, my car has been delivered as requested, and the engine is running, waiting for us.
Around us, our bags are being unloaded and put in the trunk. We’ve already done all the customs paperwork on board the jet, so we will soon be on the road.
“Decker will be back in the morning,” I tell her, stopping by the passenger side while Brook tosses her handbag in and stretches.
“I’m so over sitting. It’s a long flight.”
“Eight hours,” I reply, glancing at my watch.
Honestly, I was in no hurry. It might be late in the evening here in New York—later inRiffelalp—but the thought of dropping Brook home and sleeping alone tonight is extremely unappealing.
I don’t want to walk away from her, and this isn’t just about the story.
How she discovered my records were sealed, I don’t know. It’s getting a little too close to home. Which is exactly why I paid a fuckton of money to have them sealed in the first place.
It unnerved me for a while, but I’ve calmed down.
“All ready to go, sir.”
“Thank you,” I say, patting Brook’s bottom, indicating she should climb into the Maserati.
