him, glad that it was another nice day.
He raced down the street, taking various turns. It wasn’t until we pulled onto the sidewalk in front of Sovereign Bank that I understood the reason behind Jared’s mood. He lifted me off the seat as if I weighed nothing, placing me on my feet.
“Is there a reason you’re not speaking to me?” I asked, shoving his helmet at him.
“It’s not you that I’m angry with. It’s Jack,” he growled.
“Why?”
“Because he’s making it impossible for me to keep you distanced from this. They need both of our signatures. The box is in a special area. We need the key, our signatures and our fingerprints to get in,” he said, glaring at the door of the bank.
“But they don’t have my fingerprints.”
“I’ve never given them mine, either, but they have it on file,” Jared said, distant and cold.
“You tried to come here without me? Is that why Claire was at the loft?” I crossed my arms. “And let me guess, it just burns you that you needed my help after all.”
Jared’s eyes jerked to mine. “Is that what you think?” I stood with my arms still tightly intertwined across my ribs. Jared shook his head at me and held out his arm. “After you.”
We walked into the bank and a man in a stuffy and notably hideous light grey suit approached us.
“Mr. Stephens, this is Nina Grey,” Jared said.
The man held out his lanky hand and I took it. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Miss Grey. Right this way.” He ushered us across the lobby to an elevator. Once inside, he used a small key to gain access to a lower floor that wasn’t on the button display.
The elevator opened into a cavernous room with an enormous bronze vault. Mr. Stephens briskly walked ahead of us, taking his place behind a tall desk with a computer. As we approached, he was tapping the keyboard.
“Miss Grey, I’ll need to see two forms of identification, please,” Mr. Stephens said, looking up from the monitor.
I shot an irritated look at Jared, realizing I’d left my purse at the loft. Jared reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out my wallet. I snatched it from his hand and then put my driver’s license and student ID on the small space in front of the computer monitor. Mr. Stephens’ eyes darted twice between my face and each of the cards and then nodded. I put the cards back into my wallet as he repeated the process with Jared.
“Miss Grey, there is a red pad in front of you. I’ll need you to press and hold your thumb there until you see a flash, and then I’ll need you to do the same, Mr. Ryel,” he said, watching us both follow his directions. “Now sign here and approve the date with the green button when you’re finished.”
I hastily signed and clicked the button with the pen, handing it to Jared, who signed his name under mine.
“And you have the key?”
“We do,” Jared said in a low voice.
“Right this way,” Mr. Stephens said, the vault automatically opening.
The room was filled with various sized boxes, all plated in the same bronze color as the door. Our steps echoed against the marble floor.
Mr. Stephens turned to us, pointing to a shiny golden square on the wall with a small black button in the center. “Press this button to let me know you’re finished. It was a pleasure doing business with you. Miss Grey…Mr. Ryel,” he nodded, leaving us alone. The vault door sealed shut behind him, and Jared’s eyes drifted to mine.
“Okay, he was creepy,” I whispered, half-expecting Jared to offer comfort.
Without a word, he walked ahead, pulling the key from his pocket. I scanned the boxes on the wall and noticed that the numbers were out of order.
“This is going to take forever!” I complained. Jared still didn’t respond, so I rolled my eyes and looked for box eight twenty-five.
Ten minutes later, Jared called to me. “Nina?”
I rushed toward his voice and found him in the back corner, looking at a bronze square the size of a shoebox. “Well, we should have looked back here, first. This is just like Jack, isn’t it?”
Jared still didn’t speak; he simply shoved the key in the lock and opened it, exposing a tan safe with a large black combination lock and handle on the front. He placed the safe on the floor at my feet as if it were a shoe box. I was sure it must have been at least fifty pounds, if not more, but Jared didn’t brace himself against the weight. The muscles of his arms didn’t even strain.
“The code is a combination,” I said.
Jared nodded, pulling out the wrinkled piece of paper from his inside jacket pocket. He read the code aloud and then looked up at me.
“Does that make sense to you?” he asked, holding out the paper for me to take.
825 2R2TL223TR05
“The eight twenty-five is the box number, and the rest is the key to the combination. But, combinations are just three numbers, one or two digits, right?” I didn’t look up, and Jared didn’t speak, so I wasn’t sure if he was in agreement with me or not. “So we need to figure out which of these numbers are the numbers of the combination. And the others are…what? Red herrings?” I shook my head. “No. Jack didn’t play games, these are all important.”
I concentrated on the dial of the combination lock, looking at the numbers and thinking about turning the dial to each number in the different ways they appeared in the code. I burst into laughter and looked at Jared with excitement.
“I’ve got it!” I smiled.
Jared masked an emotion, which in turn curbed my enthusiasm. It seemed we were back to square one of our relationship.
“You’ve got what?” he asked, his voice flat.
“The letters, the R T L letters, they mean right turn and left turn. Turn it twice to the right, stopping on two. Turn left twice, stopping on twenty-two. Three turns right, stopping on five.”
Jared shrugged. “Try it.”
My first inclination was to wad up the paper, throw it at him, and tell him to try it. My temper cooled as reason crept into my mind. I wanted to see what was in the safe, and he would catch the paper, anyway, even if I did manage to aim well enough to hit him.
I kneeled down and twisted the combination. I followed the directions, but when I stopped on the last number, it didn’t catch the way combination locks should.
My anger at Jared coupled with my frustration with the lock made my eyes water. When I tried to inconspicuously wipe my cheek with my shoulder, he sighed.
“Are you crying?” Jared asked.
I sniffed. “No. Leave me alone.”
“Try it again,” he said, indifferent.
I cleared the dial and paid close attention to each turn and stop, but when I reached the five, I passed by it once more. I had only passed it twice instead of three times. The lock caught and I gasped.
“It worked,” I whispered, staring in shock at the safe.
Jared pulled me off the floor and kneeled down to open the safe. He slumped over and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Damn it, Jack. What have you done?”
Chapter Thirteen
Guilty
“What is it?” I asked, leaning over his shoulder.
He turned to face me holding a brown, leather-bound book. It surpassed antique in appearance; well-worn on the edges, with a strange branded seal on the front cover.
