Page 40 of Stolen Love

My memory is so faulty I feel like I’m gaslighting myself. Like, are these dreams and images and memories that I see real? Or am I losing my mind? Is it only a matter of time before I end up back at Sunny, but this time for keeps, with or without a hand from Nicole?

As if that wasn’t enough, my dead dad is haunting me. Calling me. Sending me packages. Making deals to marry me off to Nathaniel freaking Croft. Why couldn’t he send me a note that explains any of it? Or give me a clue as to what this key is for. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“Hey, you’re back.” Dizzy appears from deeper inside the apartment.

Rogue frowns at her over my head. “What are you doing here?”

“I like your place better than mine.” Her hands clasped in front of her, she swings from side-to-side at the waist. She giggles while her pleated pink dress flares with the movement. “Besides, I’m waiting for Jackson.”

“What about your brother?” She told me not ever to mention Jackson around… but that wasn’t real, was it? That was in a dream, right? I rub at my head, which is starting to hurt.

“West?” Her gaze lands on the key at my throat. Probably because I can’t stop touching it. She wrinkles her brow. “Oh, we’re not talking to each other right now. That’s kind of why I’m preferring your home to mine.”

Rogue hangs up our jackets. “Because—”

“We’re roommates.” She takes my arm. “And I’d much rather be your roommate than his. Trust me, he’s no fun when he gets like this.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know how to explain.” She pushes her hair back from her face and winces.

There are more bruises. My stomach lurches. “You can stay with us for as long as you need. Right, Rogue? We have plenty of room.”

“I guess…” He glances toward the living area where his family is congregated. His brother’s grim faces bring a similar expression to his. “We’ll make it work.”

“Oh, thank you. You’re the absolute best,” Dizzy says. “If you need me to go online and like sing your innocence and praises—”

“That’s okay,” he says. “Best if we leave it up to Summer. It’s her job.”

“Yes, but they’re still saying you killed that guy. And with the funeral soon and the court case over—”

“What? The court case is over?” He stiffens.

“It didn’t go the way we wanted,” Riot says woodenly from across the room. He adds the shot glass in his hand to the line of them on the coffee table. The usual happy go lucky air about him missing.

“He’s already been spotted out in public,” Summer says.

“Taking his victory lap.” Riot slams his fist down on the arm of the couch.

“Tequila?” Rebel swishes the clear liquid around in the skull bottle in his hand before he dribbles it across the top of each cup.

“Alec’s free?” I grasp at my stomach. Of course he is. The timing… it’s perfect… it’s probably why Rogue is alive. Why Nicole chose framing him over killing him. All the media hoopla, all the reporters tailing us, they weren’t paying attention to what my brother was getting away with. That would be just like her. But does that mean her reason for keeping Rogue alive no longer exists?

“You’re shaking.” Dizzy spins me to face her. “Are you even breathing? You know if you don’t breathe, you eventually pass out, but you don’t die because once you pass out you’ll start breathing again. Unless you cover your face with like a pillow or something. Or, like, a hand around the windpipe.”

“What?” I gasp. My entire body is covered in goose bumps.

She wraps her hand around her windpipe and demonstrates cutting off her air supply. “Like that. Only you’d keep going until their chest spasms and stills, because otherwise you can’t actually tell if they’re faking or just passed out. But a better way would be to use a mix of baking soda and citric acid inside a plastic bag. Pop that over your head and, no problem, you won’t be worrying about breathing anymore.”

“What the hell, Dizzy?” Rogue growls.

“I was distracting her,” she tells him while squeezing my arm. “Did it work?”

I pull in a deep breath and let it out again. My brother is no longer the subject of judicial scrutiny, and that is a very bad thing. But for some reason, Dizzy’s little spiel about killing people helped. “How do you know all that?”

“Crime documentaries. Dark romance. There’s, like, a whole fandom who want to read about villains falling in love.” She giggles.

“Alec Hawthorne isn’t someone to romanticize, Dizzy,” Rogue says.

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