Page 61 of Sinful Little Lies

With that being said, I gather my things and head over to Verena’s. I’ll be going to my writing class straight from her place, so I make sure I have my doodle-pad and pencil because in all actuality those are the only two supplies I need.

When I open the front door, there’s a black padded envelope on the doorstep. I swipe it and check who it’s for.

Me. Again.

I shut the door and walk down the cobblestone walkway while ripping the envelope open.

Another picture of Verena slips out. She’s walking to class alone and from where the picture was taken, they were in close range.

If anyone touches a hair on her end, this entire fucking world will burn.

A small white paper slides out of the envelope and falls to the floor. I snatch it and unfold the paper. Messy handwriting stares back at me. Handwriting that I recognize but can’t pinpoint from who or where exactly. My heart almost stops beating at the words scrawled across the paper.

Meet at this address, 7PM tonight. Come alone if you want her to survive. Pull a no-show or try to have your goons attack us, and it’s game over.

815 Sycamore Ave - enter through the backdoor

I look around at my surroundings, hoping to spot the dickwad in the shadows lurking. With no luck, I punch the code into my phone and find my thread with Eli. His text message about a Brotherhood meeting goes unread as I send him a picture of the note and photo, then tell him to find me any and all information on this place. His response is prompt.

Eli

The house belongs to someone named Griffin Griswold.

My heart stops. Griffin? My fucking brother, Griffin? He’s the one behind this? What the fuck could he want with Verena? A few more texts buzz in.

Eli

I can hack into the security cameras, see what’s been happening there. I’ll forward some footage.

Before you go, take an earpiece and a tracker. If you do need backup, holler into the earpiece and I’ll take care of it from there.

Blowing out a breath of frustration, I run a hand through my curls and down my face. As soon as things start looking up, some dipshit decides to come around and fuck it up.

Whatever. I’ll do anything required of me to keep Verena safe. I’ve done it once, I’ll do it again.

Remembering I also received a message from my dad, I open his thread to a text inviting Verena and I to another family dinner, this time to celebrate my own birthday.

Fuck me. I hate birthdays.

I cave in, unable to deal with his pestering right now. If something happens to my little monster, there will be no birthday dinner. I’ll be preoccupied finding the cuntbags who hurt her and ripping them apart. Limb by motherfucking limb.

Was it foolish of me to think our problems died with Leo? Because I’d be delighted to resurrect him and kill him again.

Scratch that.

I’d be delighted to fuck Verena in front of him again, and then watch her kill him for a second time.

My cock aches just thinking about seeing her in her best form. My little monster.

Whoever this asshole is has dedicated the time to crossing state lines to follow us and take pictures of us without our knowledge.

All I’m trying to do is fuck my girl, cuddle my girl, and smoke her out. Why does the universe need to make that such a taxing task? This year has already added on enough extra turmoil onto our life.

Running back into the house, I dial Eli’s number before grabbing my other backpack that holds my guns and knives.

He picks up after a few rings, “What’s up?”

“Yo, I have no time to wait. Is there an earbud at the house I can grab? I’m going to this address. Don’t want to wait any longer.” I say as I race upstairs and beeline for his room.

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