Lies We Tell (Thistle Cove 3)

My eyes land on my dresser. I walk across the room and open the top drawer. I

feel around in the back for the box I’d hidden. A tremor runs up my spine, and I pull out the drawer and dump it on the floor. Socks and leggings fall in a pile. No box.

“Where is it?” I whisper. Finn stands, forehead creased with worry.

A wave of nausea rolls through me and I run to the bathroom, managing to make it to the toilet before I vomit.

The lingerie is gone.

The iPod is gone.

The accounts are gone.

Someone is covering their tracks.

Or, trying to make me think that I’m crazy.

They’re definitely scaring the hell out of me.

30

Kenley

“Babe,” Finn says, rubbing his hand over my back, “how do you want to handle this?”

“There’s no evidence to take to McMichael.”

“We still have the photo,” Ozzy says.

“Which is proof that I broke into an apartment.” I rub my arms. The level of violation I feel…“Jesus.”

“We should go to Ezra’s,” Finn says.

“Why? So he can reject me again?” Hot tears prick at my eyes. “I can’t handle anything else today.”

“No.” Finn wraps his arms around my waist. “Because he needs to know what’s going on. And we need to stick together.”

Ozzy nods in agreement. “He’s keeping away from you to protect you. But obviously, it’s not working.”

“Okay,” I agree. “But fair warning, I can’t take much more.”

Twinkling Christmas lights greet us at Ezra’s, and I’m surprised to see that it’s decorated for the holidays. I have to assume that his housekeeper or someone they paid put them up. A different sort of nausea builds as we wait at the front door. What if he turns us away?

Ozzy threads his fingers through mine, giving me something to cling to when Ezra opens the door. His gaze sweeps over us. “What are you doing here?”

“We need to talk,” Finn says. “It’s important.”

He looks at me, concern flickering in his dark eyes. Self-consciously I brush aside my hair, knowing I look like a hot mess.

“I told you, coming here makes you a target.”

“Unfortunately, I’m still a target despite our relationship status. He left me this in my locker.” I shove the card at him and he looks at the picture. His jaw clenches and unclenches as he processes it.

“At school?”

“Yes. And when I got home everything connecting me to BD was gone.” I swallow. “Rose's iPod. The accounts on SugarBabies. The lingerie.”

His hand grips the door. “He was in your room again?”