Page 66 of Hidden Memories

It should have changed everything. Maybe, deep down, it already has.

I pick up another Granny Smith and toss it from hand to hand, needing something physical to pull me back to the present. But as soon as my teeth sink in, the taste drags me back—to our tree, to Kat feeding Hector a green apple and throwing one to me…

I drop the apple onto my desk like it burned me.

Damn it.

I need to get my shit together before tonight. Before I see her again. Before she’s across Enzo’s patio and I have to fight the instinct to pull her into the dark and kiss her breathless all over again.

Rio exhales sharply through his nose. Not quite a sigh. Not quite an accusation.

“You good?”

His voice yanks me back, only now realizing I’ve been gripping the edge of the desk so hard my knuckles have gone white. I force myself to let go, rolling my shoulders back.

“Fine.”

Rio isn’t convinced. He never is.

“So,” he says casually, “since you don’t like her, can I have her?”

The words hit me like a match to gasoline. Heat surges up my neck, my chest, my whole damn body enflames.

Before I can think. Before I can stop myself. I want my tone to come off like banter but it’s slightly sharper. “Fuck off.”

Rio’s slow, knowing laugh fills the room, smug as ever. He leans back in his chair, stretching his arms behind his head like he’s just won something.

“If there’s one thing you can count on,” he muses, “it’s that I’m always right.”

I rub a hand down my face, willing myself to ignore the way my pulse won’t settle.

I can fight this. I have to. But deep down, I already know the truth. With Kat, I’ve never been able to walk away.

Chapter Sixteen

PRESENT

I trail Julia,stopping in my tracks to button my tight-fitting cardigan again. My wrist aches with a deep bruise inside. I still feel lucky I didn’t get worse and I can still work.

I deliberated for way too long about what to wear to this barbecue. It’s the first non-Pacific Dreams party I’ve been to since I left college. It’s our chance to make friends. I shouldn’t care if Santi notices me. I shouldn’t have spent an hour debating what to wear. But I do care. And that’s dangerous.

It’s such a toxic femininity thing. I know it’s stupid. But in the end, I chose my most flattering, dressier dark-wash denim and a sexy but classy cardigan I used to wear with pencil skirts to functions at Pacific Dreams. The only problem is when Nic died, so too did the tight control over my diet. I’ve never exactly been small, and even then, cleavage spilled out this scoop neck. Nobody ever told me you could put weight on your boobs. I’m curvier everywhere than I once was and I had to wear Spanx to get these jeans over my hips.

My damn button keeps popping open because I could use the next size up. Maybe that’s being generous. At least when the temperature drops more I can wear my jacket. Anyway, I need to stop thinking this way. After having a day of rest Julia insisted on, I’ve concluded I need to use every bit of energy on figuring out who broke into the farmhouse and who set that trap, not having Santi’s eyes on me—which is as close as I’ll get to him touching me again.

I need to control myself not only for me and Theo, but for Santi, too. I don’t know much about fostering, but, certainly, he won’t be able to live on Julia’s couch when Owen is supposed to move in. He’ll need to go home at some point, and without figuring out what’s going on, I don’t want him to. I’d hate for Theo and Julia to be put in any danger. Having him there at night makes me feel safe.

I took time to go to the station today while Julia used stocking inventory with Theo as a sort of math lesson. I met with Callum and the officer who came to the farmhouse that day and stared endlessly at the note they found.

Traitors will be punished.

It was not my father’s handwriting. I was still sure about that. Did he hire someone else to leave it? Someone connected to the scandal at PacificDreams?

After hearing about just how dark he went with Santi, I’m now doubting I know him. Still, it somehow feels beneath him to orchestrate a break-in. But he would hire someone else to do it, right? But… why?

Is he worried I brought heat by moving, like I’m running away? That it might look suspicious to the feds and it will bring more weight to the case against Nic?

Pacific Dreams is everything to my father. I’m sure this case is killing him. It’s already made headlines in my news app, and he’s alone in his mansion, falling from grace without anyone to catch him. Maybe I should make sure he’s okay?

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