I didn't believe Victor Caldwell.
I didn't particularly trust anyone. Not anymore.
But there I was, stuck in the dimly lit motel room, against the wall, heart still racing from what I had just discovered, and I knew one thing for sure—I couldn’t do it alone.
I stared hard at Caldwell. His assessing, measuring eyes traveled to my computer, and back to me. There was calculation in him, something that caused me to feel sick to my stomach. Did he drop by to assist me, or was there an ulterior motive?
"You look just like your father," Caldwell said, crossing his arms.
But, as if it was a slap. My father—the one who had sold me to James as one exchanges chessmen in commerce. My father, the one charged with protecting me had led me to a monster.
I leaned back and lifted my chin. "And yet, I
