Page 34 of The Tower

Can a person really fake all that?

I shudder at the thought. I don't want to think about it. I want to continue living this illusion here with him in this lovely area and this cute little house that has become our own in a way.

I want to be here, right now, at this moment, because everything else scares me. The past is filled with bleak horror and betrayal, and the future nothing but uncertainty. What kind of life would I even return to if Keane decided to let me go? I had no plan when I came back to the city. I left my little apartment in California behind, locking the door without knowing when I would return and under what circumstances. My family has never provided any emotional support for me, but I was taken care of financially. It always felt like a bribe to me, though, as if they were paying me to stay away and keep my mouth shut. I've been given a monthly allowance ever since the day they pushed me away, and I knew the payments would continue as long as I needed them. Money has never been an issue to the Abbotts, and the amount wired to my account every month resembles nothing but peanuts compared to other expenses that are seen as normal.

I was facing a purposeless life with no financial worries, no goals, and no affection.

How could I ever return to that? How would I cope with all that has happened without having Keane at my side? If he has a plan, does he consider me as a part of it?

I know the only way to find out is to ask him. I know I can't pretend that these questions aren't nagging at me forever.

If only it wasn't for this agonizing fear.

"Libby!"

His voice tears me out of my dwelling. I jerk up from the bench, clenching the protective blanket as Keane darts through the door.

He's fully dressed in dark jeans and a thick sweater, topped with his leather jacket.

And he looks worried. No, more than worried. Scared. His eyes are wide, and his movements hasty as he gestures toward me.

"We have to go!"

"What?"

I stumble forward, shaking my head. "Why? Where?"

"We don't have time for questions right now," he tells me in lieu of a response, approaching me in quick steps. "Put some real clothes on. I'll pack a few things and then we're out of here."

"But, but wh—"

"Libby, please!" This time, he's actually yelling at me. The sheer volume of his voice makes me flinch as if he'd hit me.

I look up at him, tracing the lines on his face as deep concern marks it like never before. Ever since I first met him, Keane has never looked like this. Worried, concerned, scared. As if he's no longer in control.

"Keane, what happened?" I utter a question that I'm afraid to hear the answer to. "Please, just tell me."

His face contorts as if he was in pain. He wipes his hand across his pained grimace, groaning before he tells me something that makes my spine stiffen.

"They found us."

His expression hardens, searching my attentive gaze. "Libby, they found us."

"Who?" I want to know even though I should have a pretty clear idea of who he's talking about. But I still need to hear him say it.

"Who found us, Keane?"

He presses his lips together, averting his gaze for a split second before he returns to look at me, still deeply troubled.

"The Covey," he says. "They know we're here."

I feel like his words stop my heart.

We. He saidwe. I don't know how, but the people he works for know about me.

And they're coming for me.

Chapter 19

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