Page 60 of The Version You Hide

Her grin fades. “I know your past experiences make it hard for you to trust, but I really do think he’s a good guy,” she says earnestly. “And something tells me he likes you.”

“Oh yeah?” I question cynically. “What could possibly make you think that?”

“The fact that he’s sitting on our front porch reading a book when he could literally be anywhere else,” she deadpans.

My eyes roll back until they’re focused on the ceiling. “Fair point.”

“You owe him the chance to at least explain whatever it is you’re accusing him of.”

She’s right. As much as I hate to admit it. If Dylan says he can explain the interaction I saw in the alley yesterday, then I owe it to him to at least listen.

“Fine,” I grumble, springing upright. “But if my body turns up dead in a ditch somewhere, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Your dramatics are truly something to be admired.” Kristen stands up, then a moment later I hear her feet padding gently down the hallway.

“Kristen!” Henley calls out from their bedroom. “Hurry up and get your ass back in here!”

Ugh. Getting out of the house for a while suddenly sounds more appealing than ever. I change into my denim cut-off shorts and pull on a pair of ankle boots before marching back down the hall. I throw the front door open with a little too much gusto. It clangs against the wall with a thud before swinging shut. Dylan looks up from his book, his eyebrows raised in question.

“Let’s get this over with,” I say as I strut over to his car.

I can hear the smirk in his voice as he casually follows behind me. “Always such a ray of sunshine.”

“Don’t push your luck, Abbott.”

I’m at war with the passenger side door handle when I feel his breath on my neck. “Need some help?”

Frustrated, I step aside, my posture stiffening as I cross my arms over my chest. Dylan gives the handle a jiggle and the door swings open. It only aggravates me further when he stands there waiting for me to climb into the car so he can close the door behind me.

He energetically throws himself into the driver’s seat and pulls on his seatbelt. I almost smile at the way his eyes squeeze shut in silent prayer as he turns the key in the ignition, only opening them once the engine has roared to life. When I see him like this, it’s hard to envision the version of him that drove a Ferrari through the city streets.

“Please tell me you’re not taking me on another hour-long journey to the cape,” I complain, combing a hand through my hair as I shift my sights out the window.

“Nope,” he replies.

“Where are we going then?”

“Not far.”

He is true to his word. Within minutes we’re parked out the front of a warehouse just down from the marina. It’s not a well-lit area and there are barely any other people around. I had only been kidding when I made that comment to Kristen about my body ending up in a ditch, but seeing how derelict this end of town is has me on high alert.

“What is this?” I ask.

“Come on,” he says, opening his door. “I’ll show you.”

Hesitantly, I step out of the car and follow him to the padlocked doors of the large building in front of us, the ocean behind it black in the night. The lone streetlight above us flickers on and off, emanating an eery glow.

Dylan shuffles around the side of the building, climbing up on a stack of tyres to peer in through the high windows. His actions don’t exactly scream legit.

“So let me get this straight,” I begin. “In order for you to explain the shifty conversation I heard you having in an alleyway, you’ve brought me to the shadiest looking place in town to perform a break and enter.”

His laugh echoes across the bay as he jumps down from the stack of tyres. Then he pulls out a single key from his jacket pocket. “I have a key, Kenz.”

“Then what the hell are you doing spying in the windows of a building you already have a key to?”

“I just wanted to make sure…” he stops short, taking a breath before he goes on. “Okay. This is going to sound weird no matter how I say it, so hear me out. Promise you’ll let me finish.”

“That depends,” I say.

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