Page 78 of Smith

My attention went across the table to Jonas.

“Sorry, I was thinking.”

“This’ll be over soon.” Jonas repeated something Smith had told me on our drive to the restaurant. “You’ll be back to business as usual in a few days.”

Right.

And when that happened, where did that leave me and Smith?

The mental whiplash gave me a headache. I wanted this mess sorted. I wanted my life back. But I was afraid when that happened, Smith would be gone. No more sleeping in his bed because he was keeping me safe. No more waking up to his cheesy scrambled eggs. No more cooking with him. No more teasing.

With the day’s events taking up all of my headspace, I hadn’t been able to form a plan how I was going to break through and keep Smith.

“Good to know,” I mumbled.

The rest of lunch was stilted. The guys made plans to drive down to Trappe to talk to Billy Rice. They did this with a mind I was sitting there listening, so they were vague. Ditto when they went back to discussing George and what he had to say about his friend, Billy. It was clear there’d been a falling out between the two friends. From what little they were saying in front of me, George had made it sound like Billy took a turn from teenaged antics to a teenager acting out, to teenage asshole. But he’d confirmed what his sister had said and what Kira had dug up—Billy had stayed with the Calvins all summer and had helped with the remodel of the upstairs. Adding to this, there were times when Billy worked alone because George Jr. had a summer job as a lifeguard and George Sr. was at work. During those times, Billy might’ve worked alone but Mrs. Calvin was there, and a lot of the time Brittney—who didn’t have a job—was, too.

This gave Billy the opportunity to hide things behind the drywall if he was so inclined. Everything was pointing to Billy. The one hiccup was, he didn’t own a Tesla. And if the letters had something to do with this, why would he send them to Calvin’s house saying, “I know”? That didn’t add up.

I’d just picked up my iced tea—I’d given up on the jungle punch that wasn’t doing anything but making my stomach revolt—when my phone vibrated.

I set my drink down and grabbed my phone, expecting to see my father’s name. Before the name on the screen registered, I felt Smith stiffen beside me.

Phillip.

I hit the green accept icon and as I lifted the phone to my ear, I tried to remember if I’d forgotten about a delivery.

“Hey,” I greeted. “Did I forget you were delivering today?”

“What’s with the police tape?” he ground out.

Good Lord.I’d never heard Phillip angry, but it rivaled Smith’s angry tone.

“Well… there was another break-in.”

“You’re fucking shitting me!”

I didn’t understand his anger. He was a nice guy, he’d delivered materials to a lot of my job sites. I’d known him awhile but I wouldn’t call him a friend. And before the day he’d demanded I call him if I was working late at the house by myself, he’d never shown any signs he wanted to be my friend.

“Unfortunately, I’m not,” I hesitantly told him.

My answer was met with uncomfortable silence. Both from Phillip and from the men I was sharing lunch with. Though the silence from Jonas and Smith was also accompanied with them staring at each other, having some sort of badass telepathy conservation that only brothers-in-arms could have.

“What the fuck,” Phillip exploded. “Are you alright?”

I thought that was a strange question seeing as he was speaking to me, thus he’d know I was alright.

“Other than having more shit to repair, I’m fine.”

“Does your man Smith know about this?”

For some reason Phillip bringing up Smith made me feel better.

“Of course he does. He was there…” I trailed off when Smith grabbed my free hand and shook his head.

“Okay, good,” he said much softer.

Okay, now what was that?

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