Page 105 of Tell Me Lies

“I’m not hungry.”

“Why not?”

She shrugged.

Dalton sat straighter, pushing away his plate. “If you have something to say, just put it out there. Are you unhappy? Do you regret this, whatever this is, you and me?”

“I never said that,” she said.

“You don’t have to,” he said. “Tell me what it is and I’ll fix it. ”

This time she shifted in her seat and really faced him, looking him in the eyes rather than avoiding him. “I’m sorry, I just…”

When she began to cry, he was taken by surprise.

“Did someone hurt you, Emily? Fucking tell me what’s happening.”

“I don’t know what to do, what to feel. I’m scared. I’m terrified. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“Me? Nothing’s going to happen to me. What’s going on?” he asked.

“You don’t understand. You could lose everything, Dalton. I’m not so naïve. I know some of your businesses aren’t legal, and obviously other people do, too.”

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a crinkled piece of paper, putting it on the table and sliding it toward him.

Emily let out a shaky breath, tears tracing down her cheeks. “Read it for yourself.”

He opened the letter and read the amateur threat. It took everything for him not to laugh out loud. Instead, he folded the paper neatly and pushed it back to Emily.

“This is why you’re upset?”

“There’s more. They called me at work and said I had two days to come up with the money. They’re supposed to contact me tomorrow with a drop-off location. Dalton, they said I’d lose the shelter.”

“Emily…”

Her crying intensified. “I thought it was you,” she said. “I thought you were blackmailing me again, and I never felt so alone. Then I realized it sounded like I was lying and blackmailing you, and I didn’t want you to think I’m that kind of person. I’m not like my mother.”

“Oh, baby.” He got up and pulled her against his chest, holding her head to his heart. “If you were like your mother, I wouldn’t be with you. The thought never entered my head.”

“But what will we do? Obviously we can’t go to the police.”

“Hush now.” He kissed her atop the head. “You need to eat. You’re going to make yourself sick, Emily.”

“But—”

The last thing he was worried about was the dead man who’d written the letter. Emily saw him as her reformed childhood bully. The man who melted when a dog kissed him after a long day. The man who granted her every wish and more.

But she didn’t know the man he’d been for the past decade.

He could take care of himself, take care of her, and deal with anyone who threatened them.

“What if they never stop? What if you give them all that money and they keep coming back for more? We’ll never be at peace, always worried about what will come next.”

“I don’t want you to worry about this. It’s not the first time and won’t be the last. I promise you, I’ll handle it. Now, no more tears.”

His blood was beginning to boil. Seeing Emily crying and worrying because of some asshole was seriously pissing him off. He’d make the fucker suffer for this.

“Do you think it could be my mother? You said she wanted to give you her body.”

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