Page 60 of Black Sheep
Beside me, Cannon’s chest rises and falls slowly as he stares straight ahead. I would give anything to know what’s going through his mind right now, because I’m only a hair’s breadth away from blowing my cover completely. If he asks me another question, I won’t be able to lie to him again. I’ll tell him everything. The complete truth.
I glance at Warren in the front seat and hope like hell he’s trustworthy, because this could cost meeverything.Including my life.
When Cannon opens his mouth, I’m already preparing myself, but what he says shocks me.
“Take Ms. Carson and me back to my apartment, Warren. I’m not returning to the club.”
I turn and look at him, wondering again what’s going through his brain, but this time, I’d give just about every penny I have to my name to find out.
For most of the ride, weighty silence dominates the cabin of the car. Cannon says nothing else about Cole or the person with whom he left the drink. I want to ask a dozen questions, but since I don’t want to answer any in front of Warren, I keep quiet.
I’ll have time tonight ... although, I’m really hoping interrogation isn’t on the menu, because I can think of a lot of other things I’d rather do with the man beside me.
Gah.I’m not supposed to feel like this. I had no idea that the myriad pitfalls I would encounter during this investigation would include being so attracted to my target that I can’t even think straight half the time.
My phone buzzes in my purse, thankfully distracting me from my thoughts, and I carefully fish it out to see the screen.Mom.
Shit.
For the second time tonight, I wish I’d just left this damn phone at my apartment like I usually do. Regardless, I definitely can’t answer this call here.
Cannon glances over at me and down at the phone before I can tuck it away again. “You’re not going to answer?”
Shaking my head, I quickly hide the screen before shoving it back in my bag. “It’s no big deal. My mom.”
“Moms are important.”
“You’ve never met mine. She’ll talk for an hour, and I won’t be able to get a word in edgewise, even to tell her it’s not a good time. And that’s including all the questions she’ll ask that she won’t give me time to answer.”
When he nods slowly, I can’t help but wonder if he’s thinking about his mom, and my heart breaks for the way he lost her. Even though he hasn’t told me himself, I know the details from the news articles about her death that were in my father’s file. No one should ever have to go through that. I can relate because I feel the same way about my dad.
As Cannon continues to stare at me, the awkward silence closes in, so I start babbling things I should keep to myself because they’re thetruth. “She’s a piece of work. Divorced my dad when I was fourteen because she wasn’t the center of his life. She was jealous of his work and hated coming second to anything. She constantly accused him of sleeping with coworkers.”
“Did he?” Cannon asks carefully.
I pause to flip through my memory of all the people I met at the networks as a kid. “Not that I know of, but I guess it’s possible. He was human and fallible, but I like to think he was faithful to her, even though she was awful, especially as the divorce dragged out for almost two years. She fought tooth and nail for every penny she could get, while making it clear she never needed to see me again if he gave her the money.”
I slip my fingers into Cannon’s, needing the contact.
“Damn, that’s hard on a kid,” he says, lifting our joined hands to his mouth to press a kiss to my knuckles. “I’m sorry you went through that.”
“It probably wasn’t as hard as it should have been. I wanted them to split up. I hated living in a house that felt like a war zone, even if the war mostly came from one side of the battle lines in every passive-aggressive way you could imagine. Walking on eggshells got old, really fast.”
We reach a blocked intersection, and Warren slows down behind the honking cars.
“So you lived with your dad after?” Cannon asks.
“As much as I could. He worked a lot but had an awesome housekeeper who would keep me company if my mom was out of town on the rare weekends when I was supposed to be with her.”
I squeeze his hand as a pang of loss sweeps through me when I think of Antonia. She retired from working for my father when I was twenty and in college, and moved in with her daughter. She died a few years later from complications with pneumonia. My mother had said she probably did it to herself by living an unhealthy lifestyle.
My knuckles turn white as my hands fist at the memory.Of course, everything that happens to someone else is because of somethingtheydid, but when it comes to her, it’s always someone else’s fault.The double standard is maddening, but I’ve learned not to get worked up by it. Why I am now, I don’t know. Probably too many emotions running high.
Thankfully, Cannon interrupts the downward spiral of my thoughts, saying, “You grew up with money.”
Immediately, I wonder if I’ve said too much. Actually, there’s no wondering about it, because I shouldn’t have told him any of it. I’ve never had this problem when going undercover before, but Cannon changed everything. I pull myself back and focus on answering honestly, but not in too much detail.
“My dad did well,” I reply, and then the acid from memories of my mom pours in. “And my mom had no problem demanding more alimony every single year that he did better.”
