BETTYI pull my car onto the coastal road approaching the beach house.But before I slow down for the gates, my eyes dart to the rearview mirror, confirming the black SUV with Nathaniel's Marines is parked exactly where he promised, blending into the distant tree line.At first, when he suggested this, I thought he was being overly dramatic. But now that I am actually here, staring at the imposing perimeter of the property, the presence of those Marines is the only thing keeping my hands from shaking off the steering wheel.I pull up to the gate, and the security guard who steps out of the booth isn't the friendly, older gentleman I had grown fond of.This man is built like a tank. He is wearing a dark, tailored suit, and a coiled earpiece disappears into his collar.He doesn't smile. He doesn't say hello. He just holds up a hand, checks a digital tablet, and stares at my license plate before his dead eyes flick to my face.He presses a button, and the heavy iron gates slowly swing op
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