Page 100 of Keeping Kasey
Because no matter how many times I consider what Ford has to tell Logan, I come to the same conclusion.
Ford knows.
He knows I lied about the attack, and he’s about to tell Logan—if he hasn’t already.
I’m sitting in a chair in front of the desk while Damon lounges in Logan’s, and I survey my options before reaching for my drink.
Right before the water bottle reaches my lips, it slides through my fingers and spills all over my sweatshirt.
I curse under my breath and clumsily scoot back.
“You good, Goldie?” Damon asks.
“Wet, but fine,” I mutter, pulling off my sweatshirt, which leaves me in a gray tank top. I feign a wince as I push to my feet, lifting a hand to my temple for good measure. “I just need to dry it off.”
As I hoped, Damon stands and snatches the sweatshirt from me. “You’re supposed to be resting. I’ll do this.”
His back turns to me, and I cross my fingers that he’ll shut the door behind him when he steps into Logan’s private bathroom.
When he does, I almost melt with relief.
I have to move fast because, as it is, I may already be out of time.
And once I dothis, there’s no turning back.
The door shuts behind Damon, and I spring to Logan’s desk. As quietly as possible, I push the massive piece of mahogany furniture—something I attribute to the adrenaline pumping through my veins. There’s a low groan as it slides across the floor, but the automatic dryer in the bathroom masks the sound.
The desk is a foot away when the dryer stops. I throw caution to the wind and push as hard as I can, slamming the desk into the door. It opens outward, and with this blocking the way, Damon is effectively trapped.
The door handle shakes, and Damon’s fists pound against the wood.
“Kasey! What are you doing?” The pounding and pulling continue, and my guilt increases tenfold.
“I’m sorry, Damon. I promise I’ll explain everything later,” I say, and though he’s banging on the door, I know he can hear me.
I go behind Logan’s desk to turn on the stereo—needing something to mask Damon’s shouts—but when I move to leave, the most recent email on Logan’s computer stops me.
It’s from Kade, Moreno’s cybersecurity capo, and the only reason it gives me pause is because of the subject line.
Subject: Kasey Miller Investigation Update
I click on the email, ignoring Damon’s shouts as I do.
My eyes scan the screen with the sickening realization that I’m not the only one keeping secrets.
Logan had Kade gather dirt on me.
The address of my apartment. Call logs between my mother and me. A list detailing some of the jobs I’ve taken over the last few years—what I did, who I worked for, even what I was paid.
Logan used one of Moreno’s men to investigate me.
He deserves the chance to explain, a little voice in my head says.
I’m not exactly in a position to judge.
I lock the office door from the inside before slipping out—anything to delay the inevitable.
I don’t run down the hall because I don’t want anyone to get suspicious, but my speed walking isn’t much better.
