Page 119 of Veil of Lies

“But why?” she spluttered.

“Because you’re my girlfriend and Mom wants to meet you.”

“Oh.” The look of dawning horror on her face spoke volumes. “But I have nothing to wear!” she cried.

“Princess, that’s the least of our fucking problems right now.”

All four of us sat in silence for a minute before Quinn remembered the reason we were there.

“Did you get into the box?”

His question shoved the dinner with Lily off my list of immediate problems. I turned to look at Stella, eager to hear what she’d found.

“Yeah, it contained this.” She pulled a small USB drive from her bag and placed it on the table.

“That’s interesting,” mused Quinn. “I wonder what’s on it?”

“It’ll have to wait until we get back to college,” Harley pointed out. “None of us have a laptop here.”

Fuck.

Chapter 91

Stella

The cab moved slowly through the busy streets of downtown Cincinnati. A fine drizzle obscured the windows, blurring everyone outside and creating a bubble of intimacy. I picked at the threadbare jeans I wore, chewed my lip, and wished we were going somewhere else, like to a cool bar or a movie or something. I should have been elated to spend time with Brax, just the two of us, but this felt like a death row prisoner’s last meal.

I’d bought nothing suitable for a posh dinner and had decided at the last minute to wear something highly inappropriate instead. Jeans were my go-to outfit, and I knew it would piss Lily off if I showed up in ripped jeans and a tee.

Brax had snorted when he saw my outfit but didn’t ask me to change. Not that I had anything to change into. Last night’s designer dress was way too OTT and Tessa’s loaner was too big. He, on the other hand, looked delectable. Like me, he also wore jeans, but his were an expensive designer brand and he paired them with a black button-down shirt open at the neck and a blazer. The whole outfit screamed entitled frat boy with money, yet I knew he wasn’t that person. Beneath the attitude and aggression, Brax was a damaged soul.

We were both broken.

The cab stopped and Brax paid the driver.

“Ready?” he asked.

“No.”

“Me neither.” He took my hand and looked me in the eye. I dived into his cerulean blue eyes and drowned. “Whatever happens this evening, remember, words can’t hurt you. Know that I’m on your side. I believe in you, Stella.”

His thumb rubbed my palm, stoking a fire in my core. How was it possible one small, seemingly innocuous gesture could provoke such a response?

It made no sense, yet I burned for him. There was so much heat flooding my veins, it was a wonder the cab hadn’t exploded in a fiery inferno.

I pondered his words while trying to ignore the relentless throbbing between my thighs.

He was right. Words couldn’t hurt me. So many vile words had been written about me, spat at me, and yet here I was. Still fighting. I heard the truth in his voice. I accepted he knew now I wasn’t a part of my father’s crime.

If it was his crime. I no longer believed it was. There were too many unexplained things going on.

Pushing all thoughts of Dad from my head, I nodded. “Let’s do this.”

We climbed out of the cab and dashed into the restaurant. There was a queue, but as soon as Brax uttered his grandmother’s name, it parted like the Red Sea. In less than a minute, we were escorted to a table at the rear of the room, well away from the kitchen.

Diners relaxed in plush chairs, sipping expensive liquor and wine. Wait staff scurried around carrying plates of exorbitantly priced food. The whole place stank of privilege.

This wasn’t somewhere I wanted to share a meal with Brax. I’d have been a lot happier in a Wendy’s, sipping on a chocolate milkshake and scarfing down a burger and fries. Yet here we were.

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