Page 48 of Misguided Vows

The sisters exchange another glance.

“I’m sure Will is going to turn up soon. He always does,” Honey assures with a tentative smile, and it makes me feel uncomfortable.

I don’t want them thinking I’m curious about Will, but I also can’t help myself from leaning in and asking, “So, like, his tracking job. It’s not really dangerous, is it? He just hides behind some screens to find people, right?”

“You two haven’t spoken about this?” Rya asks, wiping at her mouth and placing down her fork.

“Will’s line of work can be dangerous. Some of the people who hire him aren’t always good people. He also gets his hands dirty, the same as Crue and Dawson. He might be a goofball at times, but he takes his job very seriously.”

I try to absorb that information. “So, like, theoretically, he could just go missing for a few weeks and never come back?” I ask.

Rya sighs and crosses her arms over her chest. “They all could. It’s the world they live in.”

“But they’re also highly intelligent. The risk factor doesn’t get any easier, but you just learn to embrace this part of them as much as they embrace certain parts of you,” Honey says.

I want to laugh. I don’t know if anyone would be so inclined to accept all of me. Especially if they knew about my past. Who I am today is very different to the woman I was those many years ago.

“You seem to have a lot of questions for someone who’s not overly interested,” Rya teases.

I smirk and pick up my fork again. “I just want to make sure we’re not on bad terms. You know, after selling his plane and all.”

“Can’t say Dawson’s ever bought me a plane,” Honey says with a chuckle as she places her hand on her stomach. “I’m sure Will is going to be back in no time. Until then, you’ll just have to get by with your toy.”

“Or go out and find someone else to scratch the itch,” Rya dares.

“I’m not attached to him.” I wave them both off and point my fork at Rya. “And stop trying to use me as a pawn to get your husband all uppity about you hitting a club.”

She casually shrugs. “Have to keep it saucy in the bedroom.”

Honey gasps. “Oh my gosh, no. As if you two need any encouragement. I spent time with them before Crue gifted me the apartment on the floor below them, and I couldn’t sleep because of how loud they were! No wonder you got pregnant so fast,” she teases, and Rya nudges her.

“I don’t need to hear about keeping it fresh in the bedroom from the woman whose husband auctioned off her virginity.”

I gasp and look at Honey, whose cheeks go red. “We all have our things, okay?”

“You can do that?” I ask, intrigued.

“If you step further into this world, your mind will be blown,” Honey says with wide eyes, and we all laugh. I can’t imagine what it’s like to know about all of these things. But what I do know is that, although the fantasy of what they haveis impressive, I need to do what I have always done—focus on myself.

CHAPTER 26

Will

Thomas is driving on the outskirts of Los Angeles, following my directions. I look down at my phone and flick through the photos and video footage I have of Alina. I don’t like being so far away from her. It’s unsettling to live only through my devices to watch her.

Thomas glances down at the phone briefly and clears his throat. He doesn’t look like he’s slept a wink since his daughter went missing.

“Is that a new target of yours?” he asks.

I lazily smirk. “Something like that.” I close the phone, not wanting anything from my past to mix with my present.

He sighs, and it reminds me of how defeated I’d been those years ago. I’m exhausted, as if I’ve been sucked back into that vortex.

I’d tracked the car his daughter had last been seen in, and as I look around the sketchy area and what looks like a disorganized scrap yard, a sinking feeling settles low in my stomach.

Thomas pulls over and kills the headlights. We step out of the car in unison, and the scrap yard might as well be a graveyard. There’s no security or even fencing, just a random spot where cars have been dumped.

“Let’s see what we can find,” I say as my eyes adjust to the dark. I slip my hands into my pockets as I turn left and he goes right, looking for the same license plate or make and model of the car I’d given him.

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