Chapter 5 #3
“Who is he, Lila? Why was he watching you? Be honest this time. I know you lied about not knowing him when we questioned you. That’s why I’ve been hanging around all week.”
“It wasn’t a lie,” I insist, clinging to the strands of honesty I weaved together that night to sell my story. “I honestly don’t know his name.”
He clicks his tongue. “There it is again. Same act as the night we questioned you.”
“There’s what act again?”
“You’re answering an adjacent question instead of the one actually asked. Because you’re hiding something.”
“I didn’t lie.”
Uncrossing his ankles, he presses off the counter and gets right back up in my face. The heat of his body mingles with mine. “I didn’t ask his name. I asked if you knew who he was or what he wanted. How about you try answering honestly?”
“I don’t owe you a thing.”
He whispers his response. “No, you don’t.”
Languidly, he swipes a thick bunch of my hair over my right shoulder. He lets his gaze linger on the now-exposed spaghetti strap of my tank top.
After gently biting his lower lip, he slowly returns his focus to my face. “Lila, you know I’m eventually gonna figure out what you’re hiding. If you’re honest with me now, I can help keep you out of trouble.”
My voice quavers as I ask, “Who says I’m in trouble?”
“I know when I’m being lied to, Lila. Especially by you.”
“I asked you to leave.”
“Tell me who he is and why he was there.”
“Leave. I don’t want you here anymore.”
He tsks at me. “It’s such a shame that you insist on lying. You’re wasting time.” Reaching up, he skims his thumb from my neck toward my shoulder, toying with the strap of my tank. “Time I’d much rather spend doing other things.”
My core heats in response to the molten lava in his tone. When he touches me, I turn into a puddle of need. He knows it too.
Leaving one of my straps hanging on my upper arm, he switches to the other side, repeating the motion. “Wouldn’t you rather be doing something else with me?”
He’s so close he might as well be inside me. And doesn’t that sound heavenly.
My thighs press together, and my mouth waters. But common sense prevails over my hormones. I channel every ounce of disdain I harbor for him to shove away the arousal.
This man is the most infuriating person on the planet. I can’t believe he’s trying to manipulate me like this.
Again.
He got me once with this sexy act. Not a second time.
Through panting breaths that are part arousal and part fury, I seethe, “Get. Your. Hands. Off. Me.”
His face waxes over, all traces of heat snuffing out in an instant. “Sorry.”
I knew he was full of crap with this whole desire act of his. Real arousal—like I feel for him—can’t be turned off that fast. He’s just playing with me. Same as always.
“You need to leave, Reed. This isn’t happening. Never again.”
With his normal grumpy jerk face mask back in place, he asks, “Where’s my sister, Lila?”
“Shh. The avocados are sleeping.”
“Lila,” he scolds me. “Where is Kenzie?”
“Why are you asking?”
He crosses his arms at his chest. “Because of what you said to me when I left your table tonight. There’s no way you’d think I’d speak to her before you would. You were testing me, and I want to know why.”
I regret so many things where he’s concerned. That dumb test from earlier is the tip of the iceberg.
Closing my eyes, I fist my hands at my sides. I can’t answer. He’ll know I’m lying if I try. And my random distraction technique has failed spectacularly. He knows me too well.
I resort to begging. “Please just leave, Reed.”
Instead of complying, he opens the fridge, takes out the milk, and plops it on the counter. “This is expired.” He grabs a package of bologna. “Expired.” The half-eaten roast beef comes out next. “Expired. And oh, look. Moldy cheese.”
In hindsight, I should have thrown out all of Kenzie’s food when it started spoiling. But I didn’t because that was like admitting she was never coming home.
“Congrats. You’ve cracked the case. We don’t empty the fridge as often as we should.”
He opens the produce drawer, waving at all my rabbit food. “Oddly enough, all this is fresh.”
From the top shelf, he takes out a two-liter bottle of Coke. An inch in front of my face, he twists the top to open it. Of course, there’s absolutely no carbonation remaining.
“Did Kenzie start drinking flat soda and spoiled milk?”
“Maybe we get a lot of takeout and don’t grocery shop that much.”
His head kicks back, and he marches over to the dishwasher, flinging it open. “That’s a lot of pots and pans for someone getting takeout all the time. Not to mention the fresh produce. Why are you the only one eating here?”
“What makes you think I’m the one cooking and eating the produce?”
If answering questions with questions were an Olympic sport, I’d win gold.
“Lila, why are you acting like I haven’t known you for most of my life?”
“Wishful thinking,” I snark.
“You’re always on some stupid, unnecessary fucking diet. My sister eats nothing but junk food. So why the fuck isn’t she eating here?”
I blink at him while visualizing a piano falling on his head, ala Roadrunner and Coyote.
Still proving his case, he piles on more evidence. “She hasn’t been here in a while, has she? There’s a ring from nonuse in the toilet bowl in her bathroom too. The kind when it hasn’t been flushed in a long time.”
I fling my arms out wide. “What do you want from me, Reed?”
His eyes double in size, and he mashes his lips closed like he’s holding back his words by force.
After a beat, he grits out, “A lot of things. But right now, I want the truth. How do you know the guy I chased out of the casino? Why was he passing something to your boyfriend? Where is my sister? And why do I have the feeling those questions are related?”
Like two stubborn goats, we stare at each other, butting heads and fuming. The smoke detector will blast out any moment now from the fire raging between us.
Reed’s the only one who does this to me. It’s like he has the key to turning my world upside down. Always has.
Even still . . . I want this to go away.
It needs to end.
Not only the confrontation with him, but everything. All of it.
I’m so freaking done.
My anger at him gradually melts away, leaving room for the desperation and helplessness I’ve been living with for weeks. There’s no way out. I’m tired, and I need help.
I surrender.
Best I can do is hope he’ll help me instead of locking me up. If that happens, at least he can start searching for Kenzie.
“Reed,” I begin, my voice meek and unsure.
The cashmere cushioning his voice surrounds me with reassurance. “You can talk to me, Lila.”
I hope he’s right about that because I don’t have any other options.
“Listen, Reed, I need to—”
My cell rings, severing my connection with Reed as if it were slashed with a sword.
I dart into the living room, searching for the purse I hurled at him when I got home. My phone’s beside it on the floor, along with my wallet and keys.
When I swipe it off the carpet and check the screen, my heart freezes, and my throat threatens to close.
It’s Silas.
Considering an overly suspicious FBI agent with a history of ruining my life is in my home, it’s only logical that a criminal would call me.
Perfect timing to go with my perfect life.