Page 60 of Diem

I’m just about to dive behind the bed when Diem says gruffly, “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Shit,” I shriek, jumping out of my skin.

My heart feels like it’s going to gallop right out of my chest and leaning over to clutch my knees, I whisper, “What are you doing here?”

“Me? What are you doing here, Maeve? This is dangerous. Why would you come here alone?” he says, flinging his arm out.

“I’m not alone,” I say waving at Penny who’s glancing between us, apparently mute. “Besides, what? You thought I was going to ask you? Since when?”

“Since this is really fucking stupid,” he says, grabbing my arms and shaking me.

“Fuck off. This isn’t your business,” I gasp, pulling away roughly.

His brows drop over his eyes and I notice his nostrils flare before he grabs my hand and pulls me toward the stairs. When I attempt to pull away, he just tightens his grip.

“Stop! What are you doing?” I demand.

“We’re leaving. This is a fucking crime scene. You go,” he waves at Penny. “I can’t believe you would do something this stupid.”

“Diem? Diem, look!” I say, grabbing up a letter that Penny missed and waving it in my hand.

Diem’s jaw twitches and I eye him closely, my stomach sinking when he avoids my gaze and says, “Leave this shit for the police.”

“But—“ I say before he grabs my arm and points to the door.

Before I know it, I’m standing outside the SUV while he watches Penny get in her car. After, he presses me inside and pulls onto the highway.

We’re barely a block away when a police cruiser appears, slowing at the turnoff. If they’d been any sooner, we’d be fucked. All of which I refuse to acknowledge when Diem huffs and presses on the gas.

My head slams against the seat and I glare at him but it’s no use because he’s watching the road and with a long-suffering sigh, I turn away.

∞∞∞

When he pulls down the lane to Ramsay’s place I sit up and say, “What are we doing here?”

“We need to have a little chat,” he says, and I eye his grim countenance.

“Ramsay?”

“Isn’t here.”

“Oh.”

It’s been a long time since I’ve been invited here and with a painful pang, I realize I missed being a part of their group. Even if I was always on the periphery.

Diem pulls to a stop, and I stare out the windshield, battling memories that are bittersweet in the wake of where we are now.

“Let’s go,” he says.

Once we’re inside, he leads me into the media room, and I collapse on the couch, staring into space. Being here reminds me of that night and I have a hard time not walking down memory lane. It was urgent and beautiful and apparently a lie.

After Diem’s showdown with Patrick and subsequently finding me flailing in a bush, he brought me back to Ramsay’s house. After leaving me in Oliver’s room, he went downstairs, and I laid down on the bed. I had a lot to consider, including the gems Patrick and Diem spewed while I listened.

Was Diem dangerous? Did he work for his uncle, Paddy McCafferty? What did that mean in terms of my feelings for him? Not a damn thing, if I were being honest.

Absently, I stared at the wall, for hours, or so it seemed, before pulling myself up and trudging down the hall. When I couldn’t find Diem in the usual places, I wandered around for a while before coming upon the media room with a huge theater, reclining seats, and a fucking popcorn machine.

Diem was inside but he wasn’t watching a movie or playing a video game, no he was sitting aroundthe poker table, shuffling cards.

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