The Life You Stole (Life Duet 2)

Did I hate myself for allowing the four of us to get into such a pickle? Of course. I thought my pursuit of Lila would make Evelyn jealous. Did I develop misplaced feelings for Lila in the process? Naturally. She wasn’t a terrible person, just not the person for me. Lila was regrettable collateral damage.

But it went too far. I didn’t see the signs, and I let it go too far.

A husband and two kids. How did I let that happen? How did Evelyn let that happen? I married Lila, but I didn’t put a fucking baby in her. I wanted Evelyn to pay for everything, but not as much as I just wanted her. So I’d take her baggage. I just needed to wait for Ronin to fuck up their marriage and for Lila to … well, I wasn’t sure yet.

Sometimes tragic things happened, like her cancer. If anything happened to Lila, Evelyn would feel destroyed, broken beyond repair.

Lucky for her, I would be there like I was always there to pick up the pieces … to save the day.

CHAPTER NINE

Evelyn

I put on my bikini while Ronin unpacked his clothes, Franz played in his room, and Anya jumped on our bed. “I’m going to get the kids snacks while you finish getting ready for the beach. Don’t let Miss Wild Thing fall off the bed.”

“Okay,” he mumbled.

“Is something wrong?” I canted my head, adjusting the ties on my bikini bottoms.

Ronin glanced over at me from the dresser where he tucked a few pairs of shorts into the top drawer. “No. Nothing is wrong.” He smiled.

I didn’t completely buy it because he could fake his smile, but he couldn’t fake the look in his eyes. On a slow nod, I mirrored his smile, and if he could read me as well as I could read him, then he would have seen the doubt in my eyes. But if he did, he didn’t say anything.

“Okay. I’ll be in the kitchen. Grab the sunscreen and bag of towels when you come out.”

“Will do.”

I shuffled my bare feet down the hallway, curling my toes into the plush rug with each step before poking my head into Franz’s room. He didn’t even look up from his Lego creation. When I stepped into the kitchen designed for royalty, I stopped and shook my head. The kitchen alone had to be worth twice as much as the value of my house.

Green granite counters, warm woods mixed with stainless steel appliances, two islands, one as big as a continent. An impressive fireplace anchored one end of the room by a large dining table. A flat screen TV. Multiple sinks.

“Who lives like this?” I whispered to myself, shuffling toward a long section of cabinets, hoping I could find something along the lines of a box of crackers.

“Fuck me …” Graham’s voice behind me sent a chill along my spine, erecting the hairs along my neck. Why did just the sound of his voice feel so … violating?

I swallowed and kept walking like he didn’t affect me. “Watch your language, please. There are kids in the house. And I’m certain the only person who will F you is Lila because for whatever reason, she finds you attractive.” I started opening cabinet doors.

Complete bullshit. Graham had sex appeal, the rich guy kind. I preferred the ski patrol kind. But there was no way I would ever feed his ego by admitting that he always looked like a model walking off the cover of a fashion magazine. Women made fawning over him their favorite pastime.

But not me.

“I can’t swear because there are children in the house, but you can walk around in that pathetic excuse for a bikini? Is your husband really going to let you out of the house wearing that?”

“Yes,” I replied with as much confidence as I could muster. As I raised onto my toes to grab a box of round crackers from the top shelf, Graham pressed his body to my back, pinning me to the counter. I sucked in a sharp breath not expecting him to do that, not expecting to feel him hard against my backside.

Graham reached for the crackers, caging me with his body. “Well, then he’s fucking stupid,” he whispered, retrieving the crackers.

I slowly exhaled as he set them on the counter in front of me and took a step back so I could turn around.

I wanted to scream … really scream at him for crossing a line that should never ever have been crossed.

For every touch.

For every look.

For every word whispered—as if not saying it aloud or in front of Lila and Ronin made it okay. How did I tie myself to the Devil? How did I feed my best friend to the most dangerous wolf?

Always … the score was always the Porters: everything. Needy, broke, desperate, manipulated Evelyn: nothing.