Page 35 of Wicked Sin

“I don’t think that’s true for any of you. Do you want me to send her a message back?”

“Can you tell her to fly here and rescue me from your evil clutches?”

“No.”

“Then, in that case, send her a picture of me, so she knows I’m really fine.”

I take her photo, then text it back.

Luke: Message received. Taylor is fine.

“I wouldn’t say I’m fine.” She’s reading it over my shoulder, which I should discourage—but she can’t see my other messages. But she just unloaded a lot of personal stuff, and after wanting to see Hailey and being rebuffed, this is a small comfort.

“In the literal sense?”

She giggles softly. “Fine. But Ali will know that’s not my language.”

That’s just too bad. I change the subject. “Where does she live?”

“San Francisco. It’s nice to be on the same coast—and away from our family.”

“She’s younger?”

“The youngest, yeah. She’s married, too. And way smarter than me.”

“You’re smart.”

She stands up and packs away the last of her salad. “Shut up.”

I follow her, dumping my container in a garbage bin on the way. “Take the compliment, Reid.”

She twists around, shooting me a weird look over her shoulder. “I’m sorry, I’m only programmed to accept compliments on my tits and ass.”

The latter is right in front of me, and it’s not appropriate for me to notice in the least. “I’m not going there.”

She stops, turns, and puts her hands on her hips. “You don’t like my tits?”

“Stop goading me just because you can’t take a real compliment.”

One corner of her mouth twists up. “Damn it, Detective Vasquez, why are you not more easily manipulated?”

“Years of training.”

But I’m not the only one who’s had years of training, and only a couple of years of de-programming. I can’t be too rough with her.

Taylor Dashford Reid is a fucking survivor, but she’s been through hell.

“Come on, Princess. Let’s see if we can get on an earlier flight back to the west coast, and find you a safe place to stay for the next few days.”

12

Taylor

Luke’s phonegoes off just as we arrive at the airport. He ignores it until he’s returned the rental car, although it keeps vibrating.

I’m hoping it’s more snarkiness from my little sister, but the way his face goes tight, his whole body tensing, I know it’s not.

My stomach drops.

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