Third Life - Noelle Adams Page 0,67

It’s his job. That’s what he does.”

My head feels like it’s going to explode, and my fingers and toes are as cold as ice. I try again to get past her. “That’s not why we’re together.”

“Isn’t it? So you’ve never had access to information that one of his clients might have wanted to get their hands on? That’s what he wanted from me. I can see you’ve already fallen for him, but take it from someone who knows. He’s not who you think he is.”

“I know who he is. Now please leave me alone.” I’m saying it, trying to believe it, but my voice wobbles just a little.

“You can blame me if you want. You can think I’m a vindictive bitch who wants to get back at him for breaking my heart. But I can tell you’re not stupid. So you better think through the possibilities. It looks like he’s in love with you. For all I know, maybe he is. But I guarantee he had an agenda with you at the beginning. He’s never done anything without an agenda. And that agenda will eventually come back to bite you in the ass—just like it did to me.”

My mouth falls open. I can’t move. Can’t think. Can’t do anything at all.

“Gillian.” It’s Richard’s soft, familiar voice. He’s approaching quickly. He wraps an arm around my back when he reaches me. “What are you doing talking to her?”

What am I doing? I stare at him blankly.

He shoots a quick look at the woman before he pulls me away. “Come on, baby. Let’s head back.”

I go with him. I don’t have the will to resist even if I wanted to. And I do want desperately to get away from that woman. That voice. The words that she said.

But I heard them. I heard them.

And they brought back all those little flickers of doubt that have faded away through time and space and the flood of so many other emotions that followed in Richard’s wake.

But those doubts were there. At the very beginning. I remember them now.

The flat tire. Such a strange thing to happen with such a high-quality car service. Not impossible but unusual. And then Richard’s car coming so close behind mine, allowing him to be right there to pick me up.

The way he made a beeline for me at the hotel bar when men have never, never, never done that with me.

I’m not the girl men go for. I’ve never been that girl. I’ve always been mostly invisible.

Am I really so foolish as to believe that this basic fact of my existence suddenly disappeared the moment I met Richard?

He never should have talked to me.

He never should have approached me at all.

I knew it was strange. I knew it felt off. Artificial. Wrong. I seriously considered the possibility that he was a spy or something, trying to seduce me into turning.

But I know no state secrets. I have no access to anything of value. Not to government spy services, at least. So I determined the idea was ridiculous.

But I do have access to information of value to someone. Pharmaceutical companies, for instance.

Richard is a fixer. That’s what he does.

“Gillian, baby, talk to me.” We’re on the sidewalk now. Walking back toward the hotel. Richard is soft and tense and urgent and hoarse. “You’re upset. What did she say to you?”

“She said...” I can’t get the words out. I don’t want to hear them out loud. Not again. Not from my own mouth.

“What is it? What did she say? You can’t let her get to you, baby. She hates me. She’s going to want to hurt me.”

“She... she did.”

He comes to a stop on the sidewalk so abruptly the people behind us almost run into him. They grumble and walk around us. Richard pulls us to one side, right up against a storefront that’s closed right now. He’s holding my head in both his hands. “Gillian, what did you just say? She did? She hurt me?”

“Yes. She did.” I feel a knot of dread—one I’ve felt on and off for as long as I’ve known Richard. One that’s been held at bay for way too long. One that’s been forgotten or ignored because of much pleasanter and happier emotions. But now it’s swelling. Erupting. Overwhelming me. Swallowing everything. “She hurt you. She hurt both of us.”

“No, she didn’t. Don’t let her do it. Gillian—”

“Tell me!” I burst out, surprising myself with my own vehemence.

He jerks slightly and drops his hands. “What,