The Perfect Cover (The Perfect Stranger #2) - Charlotte Byrd Page 0,8

not?

My phone dings and I look down at the screen. It’s another unlisted number. I don’t answer and wait for the texts. The first one arrives a few moments later, but much to my surprise, he doesn’t call me names.

Instead, he just threatens my life.

You have one week. You pay the $100,000 you owe us or you’re as good as dead.

We will find you, wherever you are.

You know it and we know it, so don’t test us.

I read the text holding the phone a little bit away from my face.

I know that time is running out.

I know that something’s going to happen.

The only problem is that I don’t know what that is.

I thought that running away was going to be enough, but now I’m not so sure.

Tyler

When I see the threats...

The following morning, I wake up early and watch her sleep soundly in bed next to me. Isabelle’s shoulders move up slightly with each breath.

I want to stay in this moment for as long as possible, even though I know that’s impossible.

Her phone is laying near my pillow in between both of us and suddenly the screen blinks and I see the notifications.

The texts appear on the screen just long enough for me to read without needing her to log in.

The words are visceral and violent, but the intention is clear.

If she doesn’t pay up, then they’re going to kill her.

They’re going to find her wherever she is and they’re going to make her pay.

Who are they?

“What are you doing with my phone?” Isabelle asks, sitting up and rubbing her eyes.

“Who are these people?” I ask, turning the phone toward her. “They’ve been threatening you for a while.”

“No, they haven’t,” she says defensively.

I shake my head and say, “Isabelle, I have to know what’s going on. If we are in this together, we have to be honest with each other.”

“Why are you going through my phone?” she asks, deliberately avoiding my question.

I shake my head and get out of bed.

I go to the sink, splash some water on my face, and brush my teeth.

If she doesn’t want to tell me the truth, then I’m not going to take this any further.

I’m not going to make any threats, but I can’t continue to travel with someone who isn’t one hundred percent honest with me.

As I stand here, staring at my reflection in the mirror, with a mouthful of toothpaste, I wonder if I should say these words out loud. I don’t want to get into another fight, even though I wouldn’t say no to some explosive morning sex, but we have to be on our way.

“Okay,” she says, walking up to me. “There is something you should know.”

“What?”

“You shouldn’t have looked at my phone.” She stalls again.

“Maybe not,” I agree and wait.

After inhaling deeply, she picks at her cuticles and then looks into my eyes.

“I owe a debt,” she finally says.

“What kind of debt?”

“Monetary kind. What other kind is there?” she asks sarcastically.

“Isabelle, if someone is after you, then you have to tell me about it.”

She shakes her head.

“I have the right to know.”

Again, she shakes her head.

“The federal marshals are after me,” I say as calmly as possible, looking straight into her eyes. “Do you know what that means? The power of the federal government is bearing down on me, on us. They are looking for me and they will do anything to find me. If there is someone else who knows where you are and they have something against you, then the feds are going to use that to find me.”

“You don’t have to worry about it,” she says quietly.

“I have to at least know what we’re dealing with so that I’m not making decisions in the dark.”

I wait for her to tell me but again she bottles herself up.

“It’s fine. I’ll take care of it.”

Now it’s my turn to shake my head.

“You have been getting these texts since I was at your house. I have seen some of the threats. Now, they are threatening your life in a very real way. It’s not just about me. It’s about you. I need to know who these people are and what debt you owe them so that we can make some sort of amends.”

I keep repeating myself over and over again, but nothing I say seems to be getting through. Again, she refuses to say a word.

I help her pack up the groceries that she bought last night and place the last half of a sandwich into the brown paper