Page 69 of Skeletons in the Closet

We’d poked into Beth’s private life and found more connections to the elusive bastard. We’d followed her to a secret meeting that had lastedhoursat a sketchy motel. We’d witnessed a shady-looking man go out of his way to slip into the darkness after their meeting ended.

And now Beth was dead.

Maybe suicide. Likely murder.

Not an accident or natural causes.

“Fuck. What the hell is going on?”

A knock at the office door prompted me to stop pacing. I stilled and stared at the wooden surface as though I had X-ray vision and could see who was on the other side.

It was shy of six, so it didn’t take a genius to figure it out. It was Tallus. It had to be Tallus. There was no keeping him away. He’d slithered so far under my skin he was like a new tattoo. Still fresh. Still stinging and sensitive.

Permanent.

Beads of sweat speckled my forehead as a second knock sounded. I was launched back in time to Friday night. A new wave of embarrassment slapped me in the face. It had been yet another humiliating exchange, except that time I’d been sober and remembered every single part.

“I know you’re in there, Guns. I saw the Jeep in the garage across the street. Open up. Remember what I said about persistence? Try me.”

I’d told him not to come. I’d told him I’d handle it. I’d growled and snapped and bared my teeth, but he’d laughed it off. This was Tallus. He was unshakable.

I knew he would show up, yet instead of racing out the door the second our phone call had ended, I’d stuck around.

It was because of Tallus that I’d changed my clothes six times in the past hour—and still wasn’t satisfied.

It was because of Tallus that I’d spent twenty minutes doing the deep breathing exercises Dr. Peterson had taught me to use during times of stress.

It was because of Tallus and our Friday night encounter that I hadn’t slept in three nights.

He knocked again and tried the doorknob. It was locked.

“Diem, I swear to god. Open up. You knew I was coming. This isn’t a surprise, and you can’t avoid me. I’m helping. Like it or not.”

Relenting, I opened the door.

There he was. Tallus Domingo in all his glory. Tallus Domingo, looking as outstanding as ever in a pop-rocks-pink shirt and a firecracker tie with explosions of purple, navy, and silver throughout. His dark-framed glasses accentuated his bedroom eyes and sultry smirk. His cocked hip spoke of an attitude I could never emulate. He was sure and confident. Well-spoken and vibrant. He was sin and salvation combined.

I didn’t know where to put myself or how to act. I was six and a half feet of awkward muscle and meat.

I was not worthy.

He studied my obvious discomfort andtsked. “Poor baby. Still not over it, huh?”

He shoved his way into the office as though he belonged there. He owned the space, seeping his personality into every crevice, marking the territory like a lion. His musk oozed under my skin and sank into my veins.

Tallus Domingo was becoming a huge problem.

I should never have crossed lines with him once, never mind twice.

“I have a present for you.” Tallus dropped a shoulder bag onto the desk and rooted inside. When he found what he was looking for, he tossed it in my direction.

Instinctively reacting, I caught a red rubber ball in my palm. It was weighted with what felt like sand. “What is this?”

“A stress ball, and since you’re a literal ball of stress, I figured you could use it. My mother bought it for me when I was a teenager, and since she’s a pack rat, I found it in a box in her basement when I went to her place for dinner on Sunday night.”

I stared from the ball to Tallus, confused.

“Squeeze it, Guns. Put all your aggression into desecrating the thing. Trust me, it helps.”

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