Undeniable (Haven Falls 5)

Tully laughs and starts making her way around to me. “It couldn’t be that b…HOLY SHIT!” she gasps, struggling for breath. “That’s fucking rank.”

“Sucks to be you two,” Noah says, shaking his head as he walks away from the car and drops down on the steps of the front porch where he can watch us suffer from afar.

“Hold on,” Tully says, hurrying into the house and returning a moment later with two pegs and two pairs of thick rubber gloves. She tosses a peg at me before shoving the other onto her nose and getting prepared.

The peg falls into the grass beside me and I scramble around until I can shove it on my nose, only it’s not as comfortable as it looks in all the movies. “This fucking hurts,” I say, scrunching up my face as I look to Tully with a bright pink peg attached to her nose.

“I know,” she groans, twitching her nose and watching the peg dance around in front of her. “Come on, let’s get this over and done with.”

We dive down into the car and while the peg helps a little, I still feel like I’m about to hurl my lunch up all over the grass, but it’s got to be done. I start under the seat and look around every little hidey-hole that Tully could have possibly found while ignoring the dried blood that is still smeared over the car.

We work quickly and I start doing a double check of everything, knowing there’s no way we could have gotten every last one.

“You know if the car was actually locked,” Tully muses. “I wonder if we actually broke the trunk with all that shit we did to get into it.”

“Honestly, look at the state of this car. I don’t think it matters if we broke it or not. Besides, it’ll be years by the time Rivers gets around to fixing this thing, and I have a feeling that when he does, he’ll probably just scrap this one and buy a new one.”

“True,” she murmurs. “Then why the hell are we bothering to clean this shit up?”

“Call it a sign of good faith.”

Tully rolls her eyes and I get back to work. I pop open the center console and grab a stack of papers and put them down on my lap so I can search the area beneath it before confirming it’s clear of all off seafood. “I didn’t put any in there,” Tully murmurs, looking up from beneath the foot pedals, once again with her ass up in the air.

“Oh,” I say, grabbing the papers to shove them back in when my eyes quickly scan over them. I stop what I’m doing and focus on the papers a little closer. “There’s an address on here,” I gasp, dropping the rest of the papers down and spreading out the important one on my lap.

“What?” she grunts, her head flying up from the floor of the car. “What do you mean ‘an address?’”

“Look here,” I say, pointing out the section on the form in front of me. “It asks for a residential address and he actually filled it out.”

“What the hell?” she whispers, snatching the paper off my lap and looking at it a little closer. “Hey, Noah,” Tully yells out. “Get your ass over here.”

“Ahhh, no thanks,” he murmurs from the porch.

“Get your fucking ass over here now before I tell dad you were the one who put that baseball bat through the TV when we were nine.”

“For fuck’s sake,” he grumbles, pushing himself up from the top step and making his way across the grass painfully slow. He shoves his head through the open door and cringes as the smell still floats around the car. “What do you want?” he demands, glaring at his sister in one of those ‘I hate you but I secretly love you because you’re my sister’ ways.

She doesn’t bother snapping back at him like she usually would. “Here,” she says, practically slamming the paper right into his face. “Where is this place? The address?”

Noah pulls back and takes the paper from her hands. “What is this?” he questions, looking over it in confusion.

“Just answer the fucking question. Do you know that address or what? Is that Anton’s place?”

Noah shakes his head. “No, his place is over the other side of the train line,” Noah explains before indicating to the paper before him. “This is somewhere behind the elementary school.”

“Well, what are you waiting for? Let’s go.”

“Where to?” Noah questions, still a little confused. “What is this place?”

“It’s a copy of some form Rivers filled out for the Marines,” I explain, stealing it back once again and double checking that I’m saying the right thing as it’s coming out. “He listed that address as his residential address. This is his home. The place where he goes each night after he slips out of your place.”