Page 95 of Surviving Slater
"I can take you, if you want," he offered.
I hesitated.
"She's already on her way up to pick me up." I hated lying.
"Okay. Call me when you get there."
"I will."
I hated every minute of lying to him but I didn't have a choice. Back at the apartment, I grabbed a bag and threw some clothes into it. I got only the necessities and zipped it up.
I peered at the window and saw a car arrive. It was the type of expensive car Connor usually used. I remembered to send a text message to tell Levi I was going out of town for the weekend.
Enjoy!he sent back. It wasn't anything unusual. Most of my time was spent at Slater's place anyway.
The driver took my bag when I got downstairs and put it into the trunk of the car. During the car ride, I began to weigh the implications of what Connor had discovered. I gazed out the window and tried to imagine Slater's reaction to hearing his younger sister, whom he thought was dead, was in fact still alive and living in New York.
It was still so unbelievable.
I called Slater from the airport outside where it wasn't too busy. As far as he was concerned I had just arrived at my mother's place. I kept the conversation short, worried that I would let something slip.
It didn't take long before the private jet took off, heading to New York. Despite being tired, I couldn't sleep. I shifted in my seat uncomfortably when I realized if this was true, there was no keeping it from him and he would find out how I had asked Connor to dig into his past.
He cared about me but I couldn't convince myself he could forgive me for this. But if this was true, I couldn't keep it from him.
I had seen firsthand the weight he carried every day, the darkness intermingled with the sadness in his eyes when he talked about his sister. I would tell him the truth even if it meant losing him.
By the time I landed I had managed to get a few hours' sleep but I still felt tired and nervous about what lay ahead. The car that picked me up went straight to Connor's apartment in New York.
I always knew he had money but to be confronted with it in the form of a penthouse apartment was a whole different story.
"So this is how the other half lives?" I said out loud when I was shown in.
He was standing by the big windows that overlooked Central Park dressed in an expensive gray suit.
"You're here." He turned to face me. "How was your flight?"
"It was good."
"You hungry?"
I nodded. I had been offered food on the flight but my nerves had stopped me from eating.
Over breakfast, while I ate, Connor got the file.
"It's all in here," he said, sliding the folder over to me.
As I chewed my toast, I opened the folder. There were pictures but it was hard to see similarities.
She was tall, with long, wavy black hair. Slater's was light brown. She did have the same golden tan Slater had. They also shared the same pale eyes. I frowned as I pored over the pictures, looking for something to convince me she was my boyfriend's long-lost dead sister.
"How are we going to know for sure it's her?" I asked finally, giving up on trying to figure it out on my own.
"The guy who finally found her has records that follow her from the time she was taken into foster care and up to this point. It is definitely her."
He looked convinced, but I didn't feel the same.
"What are we going to do now?" He had wanted me to fly to New York to make sure, so he must have a plan.
