Page 114 of The Love Bandits

“Indirectly,” I say, clearing my throat. “We told Joy we’d love for everyone to be in an…honest mood. And she should have asked for more direction.”

She holds my gaze. “You’ve lied to me, and you’ve lied to my boy.” Her eyes drift to Lainey’s hand, cradled in mine. “And despite that, you’ve managed to win over what is usually a very sensible young woman. How am I supposed to believeyou’rein in an honest mood?”

I squeeze Lainey’s hand lightly. “Because I love her,” I say. “And I like Anthony. And I’m sick as hell of lying.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

LAINEY

My heart is pounding fast, so fast I can hear it, or maybe that’s an auditory hallucination from the psychedelic tea. I didn’t drink much of it, but I definitely still feel it. I feel it now, wrapping around Jake’s confession—I love you—and surrounding it with curlicues and candy hearts. I feel it whenever I catch sight of my palm and the love line splashed across it. Or when I glance at the hardwood floor and get lost in the lines of it.

I don’t know why I haven’t said the words back to him yet. I do. I love him. It’s not a rational feeling. You shouldn’t be able to spend seven years with a man without truly loving him, only to fall in love in two weeks. But there’s nothing rational about the way Jake makes me feel. He makes me feel like I can breathe. Like I can be myself, and that’s good enough. Like I’m even more of myself because he wants me to be me.

I can’t let something bad happen to him.

Yes, he has stolen things.

Yes, he fully intended to steal Mrs. Rosings’s necklace.

But he’s not a bad man, and he wants to be a better one.

If he’d had anyone in his life who’d given a shit before he met Dale, things would have turned out differently for him.

And maybe his brother’s a real asshole—there’s no telling—but he means a lot to Jake, so he means a lot to me. Which means I’m going to make damn sure he’s okay too.

I will accept nothing less.

We’ll figure out a way to help him without the necklace because we have to.

Still, I don’t try to stop Jake from telling Mrs. Rosings his story. I just sit there as his witness, determined to step in if he doesn’t include any of the things heshouldinclude. And if she tries to call the police?

Jake and I will be leaving this house, together, before they get here. I’m not going to let them lock him up. No way.

“I befriended Anthony because I wanted to steal your necklace,” he says. Which is a little too honest.

I’m about to say so, when Mrs. Rosings laughs and slaps her knee like he’s told her a real humdinger.

“Tell me, are you really on a diet for your limbic system?”

“No,” he says, running his thumb across my palm, tracing my love line. The feeling sends sparks of pleasure through me, and right now, I can see them, pink and purple sparkles floating through the air. Combustible. “Lainey suspected I was up to something, and she implied she might ask Rosie to spit in my food.”

Mrs. Rosings laughs again, probably more amused because of the mushrooms.

“I didn’t,” Rosie says quickly. “I swear. I’ve worked in multiple restaurants, and I’ve never spat in anyone’s food.”

Mrs. Rosings laughs harder. “I imagine that’s taken some restraint.”

Jake takes a deep breath, then says, “I’m not saying this to excuse myself, because I’ve indisputably done bad things. I’ve been stealing from people since I was a teenager. I could tell you sob stories about being abandoned by my mother and being infoster care, but I’m not going to. Because I’ve known for a long time now that what I was doing was wrong, and it took longer than it should have for me to stop. But something happened to me last year that finally made me. The man I was working for didn’t want to let me quit, though. So when my brother made a mistake, he took him hostage, and he’s going to cut his hand off if I don’t bring him the Heart of the Mountain. I’d do anything for him. Lie to you. Your son. Anyone. He’s…” He glances at me, his eyes warm. “He was the only thing I had, but not anymore.”

She’s watching him with fascination, and it hits me again that Mrs. Rosings isbored—deeply bored and lonely and in need of drama. So I add, apropos of nothing, “Jake and Ryan are identical twins.”

Her eyes widen. “And I suppose you have reason to believe this man’s story, Elaine?”

“I do,” I say. “I can feel it’s true in my love line.” Then, realizing that’s probably not a convincing argument, I add, “I’ve seen photos of his brother sent by the guy who kidnapped him. And Damien and Nicole are looking into him.”

“Why does this man who has your brother want my Heart of the Mountain?” she asks imperially.

“I don’t know,” Jake says. “I’m guessing he saw that documentary and figured it would be hard for me to get it. It was a challenge.”

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