Page 43 of Deadly Secrets

“Stop calling me a boy!” I yelled at him.

“Then stop behaving like one. I did it because that girl clouded your judgment. Don’t you think I saw how you looked at her? She had you by the balls, and I wasn’t going to allow you to wreck your future for a brat whose father almost ruined our lives.”

The message was loud and clear. I was a little boy back then, but I wasn’t going to tolerate that bullshit from him anymore.

“I’m paying for your tuition, apartment, car, and expensive parties. I own you, and you will do what I tell you to do. Do you understand? Stay away from her. That’s an order.”

I stayed quiet. I wasn’t a kid anymore. He wasn’t going to tell me what to do.

He fisted my shirt by the collar and looked at me with a snarl on his face. “Do you fucking understand?” he shouted, pushing me toward Zayn. We both kept our mouths shut. “Good,” he said while grabbing his jacket and his mobile phone.

My father left the shop without saying another word, and Zayn and I stood there in silence for a couple of minutes before Mr. Smith strolled in again.

“Mr. Scott, Mr. Siegel, please try on the tuxedos. I’ll get some measurements, and you can then leave. I won’t take much of your time.”

On our way back to my house, Zayn broke the uncomfortable silence.

“You said she meant nothing to you. Why didn’t you say you were in love with her?”

Was I? I cared for her and truly missed her when she left, but what did a thirteen-year-old know about love?

“I didn’t love her.”

Liar.

“Well. It sounded like you did, Ander.”

I still remember that kiss. It tormented me for months to know that she was miles away from Rye and the fact that I was just someone for her to use and dispose of. Did she care about our friendship? But now that I knew she’d sent me two letters, everything I believed until a few days ago felt like a lie. I’d been holding on to that anger toward her for years, and once I saw her at the freshers’ party, all those feelings intensified.

She did write to me.

I pushed those feelings aside and started packing my stuff. I knew it was time to have a real talk with her. I just had to pick the right moment.

Chapter 16. THIRD TIME ISN’T A CHARM

(Sienna)

“You’ve been very quiet today, Miss Moore.” Reed’s voice shook me out of my trance.

Ander had not been in the lab for the past couple of days, and all I’d done in the past twenty minutes was stare at the empty stool next to me. In the beginning, I thought he was avoiding me, but then Reed said he had some family business to attend to back home. I felt guilty about missing him despite our recent fight. I still couldn’t believe my father asked Jerry to stop Ander from contacting me. He didn’t have the right to keep me away from him.

I thought about telling Ander that I had confronted him, that now I knew he’d written to me, but that wasn’t the kind of conversation to have over the phone. He should be back today, so I planned to speak with him tomorrow.

I looked at Reed, who was standing next to me, and said, “You can call me Sienna, and yes, I’ve been a bit distracted. Sorry.” To my surprise, I was truly enjoying working in the lab with him, and until now, he’d proven to be an excellent mentor. He’d taken the time to patiently explain everything to me and answer my questions. Reed was by far one of the best professors I’d had, probably the best one, including those from boarding school. He cared for his students, treating us respectfully and like adults.

“Are you happy you joined my team?” he asked.

“Yes, very happy. I’m learning a lot. I want to thank you for your patience, especially considering how difficult it must have been trying to get Ander and me to work as a team. We haven’t been easy on you, have we?” I laughed.

“Yes, I’ve noticed. You knew him before you arrived at Stanford, right?”

“Yes. Our parents used to work together, so I’ve known Ander since we were kids. Our relationship is complicated.”

“I can see that.” He gave me a comforting smile. “If Ander keeps bothering you, please come to my office. I can speak with him if his attitude affects your work.”

“Thank you,” I replied. “I might take you up on that offer, but I don’t think it’ll be necessary for now. I can handle him.”

“I’m sure you can,” he remarked with a knowing smirk. Sometimes I forgot he was a professor because he looked so young, and talking to him was so easy. I wondered if there was a Mrs. Reed in the picture.

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