Page 51 of The Guilty One

I sink. “Tomorrow night? Okay. Why…night? And why not tonight? Why do you have to wait?” I’m mumbling, processing. He sounds so calm, so sure of himself. I hate it, especially when I sound like a bumbling mess.

“I’ll explain it all when I get there.”

“But why can’t you explain it now?”

He doesn’t answer, allowing the silence to worry me again.

“Okay, fine, tomorrow. Are you…are you safe? Will you at least tell me that?”

“I’m safe. I’m okay,” he says. “I’ll be better when I’m home.”

“We miss you so much.”

He clears his throat. “I need you to do me a favor, though.”

“Okay. Anything.” I’m pathetic.

“Have you told anyone that we’ve spoken?”

“No, of course not. You asked me not to.”

“Good. Okay. Keep the secret for another day for me, okay? And do you think you could get your mom to watch the boys tomorrow night?”

“Here? Where are we going?”

“No. Have her take them to their house. When I come home, we need to be alone.”

Chills line my skin. “Alone. But why? They miss you. They’ll be so excited you’re home. I want to tell them.”

“I know. I know. We just need one night together, just us, so I can explain everything.”

“But I don’t understand. Explain it now and then come home.”

“I can’t. You’ll understand soon, I promise.” His voice is cold and empty. I’ve never been afraid of my husband, but suddenly I am.

“Can you just tell me something now? Anything? You’re scaring me.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Tate, please?—”

He ends the call, and I’m alone again, left to ponder what exactly just happened. Tate is coming home, so why don’t I feel relieved about it?

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

TATUM

Highland University

Twelve Years Ago

When we get back to campus after break, the first thing I do is plan a party. Senior year is going out with a bang if I have anything to say about it—and I do. I have everything to say about it.

Matteo hasn’t spoken to me since Christmas, but he’ll be there because I told him to be. They all know better than to cross me.

When the night of the party rolls around, people are already toasted before I arrive with the boys.

“Where’s Matteo?” Dakota asks, and I swear to god these two must be in love because if this motherfucker asks me about our dumbass friend one more time?—

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