Page 120 of When Lies Unfold

Once he exits the kitchen, Sabrina glances around to ensure we’re alone. Then she leans in closer, her eyes taking on a mischievous glint. “Okay, now that he’s gone, tell me everything.”

Unease settles in the pit of my stomach. “What do you mean, tell you everything?”

She holds up one finger. “First, tell me about that bandage on your shoulder.”

I stifle the impulse to cover it with my hand. Thanks to my frequent castor oil and cayenne pepper applications, it’s healing quickly. Of course, I decided against leaving it exposed to get some air while she was here to avoid questions like this.

All for naught. Clearly.

“It’s nothing.” I shrug. “Just a little unfortunate accident.”

She looks like she wants to press the issue. With pursed lips, she relents. “Fine. I’ll let that one slide because I’m more interested in the next juicy tidbit.” Head tipped to the side, she raises her brows. “Now, tell me how amazing he was in bed.”

I blink in shock. “Where did you get that from?”

She sets her coffee cup down with a clink. Giving me a You’re an idiot if you think you can lie to me look, she raises her brows. “Girl, you have the kind of glow that says I just got fucked in the best way possible.”

Well…shit. When I take a sip of my coffee to buy myself time, Sabrina tosses her head back on a satisfied laugh. “I knew it!”

“Shh!” I hiss. Darting a look around us, I cringe as I spot one of the mounted cameras aimed in our direction. As subtle as possible, I tip my head and volley my eyes to gesture toward the camera.

Thankfully, she catches on. With a sound of faux sadness, she shakes her head. “Ahh, it was horrible, then. So disappointing.”

I conceal my smile by taking another sip of coffee. Oh, to be a fly on the wall when Santy listens to that.

“But seriously.” Her expression sobers. “He isn’t mistreating you, is he?”

My thoughts flit to how differently things could’ve turned out if he’d allowed Andro to shoot me the other night. If he hadn’t intervened.

“Lola?” she prompts, concern saturating her tone. “He isn’t mistreating you, is he?”

“No.” I offer her a reassuring smile. “I promise, he’s not mistreating me in any way.”

Santy has done so much for me, especially recently. But these are things I either can’t share because of the circumstances or volunteer to share just yet.

Sabrina must read something in my expression because worry has her brows drawing together. “What’s wrong?”

I shake my head. “Nothing. Just tired.” Certain muscles in my body still protest in a decadent reminder of what transpired between Santy and me.

Eyes lighting up, she smirks. “Oh, really? Is he depriving you of sleep now?”

“No,” I answer softly. “Santy isn’t doing anything of the sort.” Which is true. I’ve been having nightmares ever since Belleza’s death, so that’s contributed to my exhaustion.

The only peaceful night’s rest I’ve had was immediately after I slept with him.

Her brows nearly hit her hairline. “Oh. It’s Santy, now, huh?”

Heat floods my cheeks, and I grab one of the croissants, rip off the corner, and stuff it in my mouth.

Her smile is smug. “When you decide to go for it, you really go for it, don’t you?”

The croissant lodges in my throat, and I take a drink to wash it down. “I’m not going for anything.” Cognizant of the watchful camera, I add softly, “I’m just here for the time being.”

“Uh-huh.” She sits back in her chair, appraising me with a knowing look. “And those abrasions along your neck? I suppose those aren’t from someone else?”

“I don’t remember inviting you here to harass me.”

She tips her head back on a cackle. “What the hell did you expect?” Her gaze takes on a sharp glint as she whisper-hisses. “Now all you have to do is tell me how big”—she holds both palms perpendicular to the table—“and you tell me when to stop.”

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