Page 117 of House of Lies

I try Ethan’s cell again, cursing under my breath when the call goes straight to voicemail.

Where the hell is he? He was supposed to be home over an hour ago.

I lean my elbows on the kitchen counter, resting my forehead on the cool marble. I feel like an idiot, standing here in this ridiculous dress, waiting for Ethan just so I can go interrogate some perv about my missing mother.

Okay, the dress doesn’t deserve any shade. It’s actually fucking stunning. The burgundy fabric compliments both my pale skin and dark hair. It’s sleeveless, which is usually a big no no for me, but it draws so much emphasis to the rest of my figure that I don’t even care.

Ethan took me shopping.

He also fucked me in almost every dressing room I went into.

That was a fun day.

I try his phone again, laughing bitterly at myself at how pathetic I am. Do I really want to speed this up? Myles’s only going to tell me what he told Ethan.

Mom’s gone, and she’s not coming back.

I drum my fingers on the marble and then hesitate.

No, I don’t just want to interrogate Myles about Rebecca’s disappearance.

I have to make sure Ethan is telling me the truth.

It’s not that I don’t trust him. I mean…of course I do. I’m living in his house, letting him fuck me whenever he wants.

But our relationship wasn’t exactly built on pillars of truth, was it? I lied about who I was, and so did he. If I hadn’t agreed to involve Myles in my mother’s case, I might never have found out about Ethan moonlighting as a porn star.

Unless I’d actually gone to dinner with Angelo. Now that I replay our conversation the day of the open house, it’s obvious that’s what he was referring to with all his talk about Ethan’s friends and what they got up to.

My palms are sweating.

Ask him what happened the night she disappeared. Maybe he’s a better liar now than he was back then.

It didn’t sound like Ethan was lying yesterday when we fought in the bathroom yesterday. But the way he spoke about Becks’s disappearance, it sounded hauntingly familiar.

She gave no sign she’d been about to leave.

She packed all her things, leaving only junk behind.

And she wrote a note that explained nothing.

Exactly like my mother.

Had he just plucked those details from the story I told him about Rebecca and repurposed it for Becks? Because what are the fucking chances?

My chest is so tight, it feels like my heart is beating against a brick wall.

I keep trying to calm down, but even thinking about Angelo is triggering me. His smug fucking face, like he was picturing how upset I’d be when Ethan lied to me. The smirk when he twanged his business card and told me to call him if I wanted the truth.

That’s exactly what I should do.

He said the only three people really knew what happened with Becks. Him, Ethan and Becks.

Maybe it’s time to get a different point of view.

But when I dig inside my purse, I can’t find the business card he gave me. I’m convinced I put it in here when I left Glenmont Manor the day of the open house. Right along with my dead cellphone.

Where the hell is Angelo’s card?

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