Page 90 of The Lair

The money in my pocket crinkled when I took a step forward. There was no way my parents would everthinkof contacting me if I blackmailed them with…with…

I gulped, my conscience screaming in my head.

Make the video and get away forever, Allie. Before you run out of time.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

That tight,uncomfortable feeling Tom’s visit left clinging in my chest doesn’t go away for the rest of the day. Not as I close up with Travis and Jude, not as I drive home, and not as I make dinner while Travis disappears who-knows-where. He said something about grabbing a couple things downtown, but I was barely listening.

Tom works for George Eden, who knows where I am. Who wants to interview me to… what, exactly? Expose my family? Why else would he ask for evidence of abuse or neglect?

I rest my elbows on the kitchen counter, head pounding. If I put my heart on mute and only listened to my head, I know what it would tell me—my parents didn’t protect me growing up, so I don’t owe them a thing now.

I shut my eyes because no, I don’t want to go on national TV and talk about my past. I won’t reach a happy, calm life by stirring the pot.

“Smells delicious in here,” a deep voice says, shattering my train of thought.

A deep voice that doesn’t belong to Travis.

Thinking of the time someone almost broke into my old apartment, I’m about to grab a kitchen knife to defend myselfwhen I spot a familiar figure with a huge smile on his welcoming, wrinkly face.

“What does an old man have to do to get a hug these days instead of stabbed?” Uncle Neil asks, taking his hat off and placing it on the back of the couch.

I’m sure the relieved breath I let out can be heard across the state. “I thought you were a murderer.”

“No murders. I’m only here for some of that delicious food. C’mere, my sweet girl.”

I can’t help but smile as he wraps his arms around me. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Travis shutting the door behind him. “I didn’t know you were coming tonight.”

He pulls away, keeping both hands on my arms as he gives them a friendly squeeze. “I was at the bar and invited myself over for dinner. Had to see that you were really living here.”

My eyes find Travis’s over his uncle’s shoulder. “It’s, um, a temporary thing while I find a new place.”

“And how’s that going? Any luck so far?”

If only I had looked at a single listing in the past three weeks. “It’s not going too well, but I’m optimistic.”

He pats my arm. “I’m sure Travis could use the company. Right, old man?”

I chuckle when Travis gives him a grunt.

“Dinner is ready,” I tell both men. “I didn’t know you were coming, Uncle Neil, but I think there’s enough for the three of us.”

“You didn’t have to cook. I was going to order some takeout,” Travis says, brows pulled together, as he walks into the kitchen. “But it smells fucking good.”

I try not to beam at his praise. “Thanks.”

“Sit down. I’ll take care of everything,” he says.

I follow Uncle Neil to the dining table and sit across from him. Unlike his nephew, he doesn’t need much to start an amicable conversation.

“So, Allie, Travis tells me you took over the accounting at the bar. I didn’t know we had a nerd among us.”

The way he says it tells me he’s only teasing. I’m pretty sure I’m imagining the glimpse of pride in his eyes, but I run with it nonetheless.

As Travis sets the table and brings over the roast chicken I made, Uncle Neil tells me how he also enjoyed that part of the job back in the day, and how he would’ve liked to get a formal education in finance when he was younger.

Travis doesn’t say much when he sits down with us, focusing on his meal instead, but I don’t mind it. Uncle Neil talks enough for everyone and isn’t shy with sharing embarrassing stories about younger Travis.

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