CHAPTER 23
ARI
I’d been looking forward to the trip to England, but now? Not so much.
The bad news came on Wednesday afternoon, two hours before we were due to board the red-eye to London. Rennick called me personally, which was a first and also served to highlight the gravity of the situation.
“We’re seeing preliminary indications of unusual betting patterns on the UK WST event.”
“Betting against Zach? I mean, against Torres?”
Dammit, I was getting too close. Some days, I almost forgot why I’d come to Seagrass Point in the first place. Only my nightly calls with Haven and Nana kept me grounded, and on the last of them, Nana had muttered darkly about Stockholm syndrome. But I didn’t have Stockholm syndrome. Zach wasn’t my captor. I was here because I wanted to be. Uh, no, because I w
