Steel Rush (In the Shadows#5) (14 page)

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Authors: P.T. Michelle

Tags: #Romance

BOOK: Steel Rush (In the Shadows#5)
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I
stoke the fire in the fireplace, mesmerized by the flames licking away the wood a bit at a time. Once the fire flares high, I toss the bloody towel onto the smoking logs and watch it burn away to nothing. The voices on the TV snag my attention; a news anchor mentions the police finding an abandoned car late last night, then the camera switches to a brunette reporter outside. She shivers in a thin coat as she stands near the road.

“This is the stretch of road where the abandoned vehicle with blood was found,” she says, sweeping her arm to indicate the traffic zooming past behind her. Facing the camera once more, she continues, “There’s speculation that an ID was discovered in the car also, but the police aren’t releasing a name at this time—”

“It was that senator’s daughter. The dark-haired one that’s always in the magazines,” a stocky guy in baggy jeans and blond dreads says as he photo-bombs the journalist.

The woman quickly turns, pushing her mic toward him. “Do you mean Celeste Carver? Did you see her in that car?”

His dreads sway against his back as he shakes his head. “Nah, I just heard the cops talking about it. One of the guys said there was a lot of blood and he wasn’t sure she could’ve walked away.”

The journalist pivots back to the camera. “Was that Celeste Carver’s ID found in that car? If so, hopefully the police will provide answers soon. Back to you, Stacy.”

The shot cuts back to the perky reporter with a wide smile sitting behind the news desk at the TV station. “Great timing with your question, Taylor. Our crew is at the Carver estate interviewing the senator as we speak.” She nods to someone outside of the camera range and says, “And we’re switching over to that live feed now.”

Flash bulbs highlight the Senator’s silver hair as he stands in front of his fireplace in a gray three-piece business suit and a red tie.

“Why did you choose to run, sir?” A bald man in a tweed jacket asks from the small group of reporters in his living room. “You had an incredibly successful business in Carver Enterprises. Giving that up couldn’t have been an easy decision.”

Gregory smiles. “I wanted to give back to the people. And honestly, I couldn’t have done it without the help of my daughter, Celeste, who took over the business last year.” He gestures just outside the group of journalists. “Actually both my girls and their mother have really stepped up to help me out. Their mother is feeling under the weather but…Celeste and Beth, come over here.”

The camera pans to his two daughters who obediently make their way over to stand on either side of their father.

While Gregory drones on about how much Celeste supports his career, I stare at
her
.

As a quick stand-in Celeste, she’ll pass. Barely
.

I skim my gaze back to Gregory, narrowing it.
What game is this? Why is he pulling her into the spotlight?

A reporter asks a question about Celeste running Carver Enterprises and Gregory puts his arm around her shoulders, bragging about his daughter.

Then a reporter from the TV station asks, “There’s a rumor going around that Celeste’s ID was found in an abandoned car yesterday. Care to comment on that?”

Gregory’s expression falters for a split second before he shrugs. “If they did find an ID with her name on it, it’s obviously a fake.”

I slam my fist on the table, done with watching this bullshit. I see the differences in the fake Celeste standing right beside him. Her face has been in enough newspapers and magazines. Why can’t anyone else? This is why she belonged only to me.

When Celeste and Beth walk back to their positions on the sidelines, the camera stays zoomed out. Ben moves behind Celeste and he instantly squeezes her shoulders, pulling her against his chest. Look at him, trying to comfort her. I tilt my head and watch him shift to her left and fold their fingers together as he whispers something in her ear. He’s smiling too much. How can he not fucking tell he’s holding an imposter’s hand? She’s not truly yours.

Celeste is
gone
. I turn away and press my fist against my chest, growling the pain away.
She’s all mine now.

I glance back at the TV. They are
all
pretending.

She can’t
be
Celeste.

I shake my head, determined. “This must end.”

 

T
he Manhattan Crest is as grand as it is elegant. It’s the perfect hotel to hold a party for the upper echelon who throw money around like it’s used tissue. I try not to think about how much the black-beaded floor-length gown I’m wearing cost. Instead, for once I’m thankful for Celeste’s exorbitant wardrobe. The gown, along with the matching clutch purse and strappy heels is perfect for this ritzy place.

I walk into the main floor’s ballroom with Beth on one side and Gregory on the other. After quick introductions, Senator Carver’s benefactor instantly sweeps him away to make the rounds with the important (read: political connections) guests at the party, leaving Beth and me standing alone.

“It’s going to be a long night,” Beth mumbles under her breath after smiling and nodding to a couple ladies to our right. “I’m going to get a drink.”

I smile at the ladies too, then ask when Beth starts to turn away, “Do you want to put your phone in my purse?”

Beth glances down at the bright pink phone clasped in her hand and shrugs. “No, I’m good.”

I sigh as she walks off. Why didn’t I think to ask her to get me a drink too? Then she would’ve had to give me her phone. Calder told me that “Brent Taylor” was a dead end, so he still doesn’t have a way to track him down. I really need to get to Beth’s phone, but she hasn’t let it out of her sight. Nor has she spoken to me since she helped me pick out clothes. And I seriously doubt she will the rest of the evening. Maybe I can do that later.

For now I need to find out which table is ours. I glance down at the fancy gilt-edged folded card the ladies outside the door handed me just before we walked in, saying, “Welcome, Senator. We’ve assigned a café table for you. The number is inside this card.”

Before I can open the card, my purse vibrates with a text and I quickly pull my phone out.

 

Calder: I’m here, straight ahead of you, against the far wall. Marco needed instructions on where to wait with the car. The guy never learns.

 

I suppress a laugh, remembering the look on Marco’s face when Gregory demanded that he stay with the car once he saw Marco’s black eye. When Marco shot Calder an accusing look, I couldn’t help but wonder if he tried to prevent Calder from retrieving my cell phone from Celeste’s car.

 

Me: Did these instructions involve another black eye?

Calder: Only if he bruises easily.

 

It’s hard not to snicker at his reply.

 

Me: Thank you for going the extra mile to get my phone.

Calder: You seem calmer now that you’ve talked to Talia.

Me: I am.

Calder: You look beautiful. It’ll be hard not to stare at you all night.

 

My heart flutters at his unexpected compliment and I give a sly smile as I text him back.

 

Me: Would it make your job harder knowing I’m completely underwear free under this gorgeous dress?”

 

Just as I hit send, someone touches my waist and speaks behind me. “Good evening, Celeste.”

“Hey, you made it,” I say to Ben, tensing when Calder snaps a deadly look his way.

A middle-aged woman in a silver gown walks up and shakes Ben’s hand as another text from Calder comes through.

 

Calder: No, the fuck it doesn’t! Keep that asshole under control so I don’t have to deck him too, Raven mine.

 

Raven mine.
He knows just what to say to evoke a memory. The sensation of him clamping his teeth on my shoulder, and staking his claim on me that night in the kitchen, rushes along my skin as if he’s right here.

When Ben starts to turn to me, I quickly tuck my phone away and smile at the woman with bright pink lipstick.

“Celeste, this is Claudia Sinclair. She runs the hospital like a well-oiled machine.”

The woman titters at his compliment as she shakes my hand. “It’s nice to meet the girl who stole Ben’s heart.” Glancing at Ben, she asks, “Did you see that David is here?”

Ben grins. “He’s here already.”

She nods. “I saw him getting a drink earlier.” Lifting her card, she continues, “I’d better go put this on my table. I’ll see you two later.”

Ben scans the crowd until he finds the person he’s looking for. “There’s David. Come on, Celeste, I’ll introduce you.”

“I need to set our card down so Father and Beth know where our table is.” The moment I open the fancy card, a smaller white card flutters to the floor. Before I can bend to retrieve it, Ben snags it and hands it to me. “Here you go.”

STOP PRETENDING.

As soon as I see the two words written in bold block letters on the back of the card, I quickly snatch it from him before he sees it. “Thanks. Why don’t you go chat with your friend? I’ll meet you over there in just a minute.”

Once Ben strolls away to talk to a well-built bald man in his late forties, I walk over and set the card with our family name on it upright on the table. Right now a hundred eyes are on me, so I act as if nothing is amiss. Any of them could’ve planted that card. The last thing I want to do is acknowledge that whoever is trying to rattle me is right.

My purse buzzes with a text and I pull my phone out.

 

Calder: What’s wrong? What did that card say?

 

I glance up and meet his piercing gaze across the room. He’s on full alert. I can tell by the way he’s holding his shoulders and the not-so-casual curl of his fingers around his phone.

 

Me: It could mean anything.

Calder: What does it say?

 

I’m caught by his stare. The man is brutally beautiful in his intensity.

 

Me: Stop Pretending.

Calder: Leave it on the table under the other card. We’ll have a fingerprint analysis done.

 

I nod and put the white card under the upright card, then walk over to Ben.

As soon as I reach Ben’s side, he clasps my elbow. “Is everything all right?” His brow is furrowed and he seems on edge. When his focus flicks to Calder, I touch his shoulder to bring his attention back to me.

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