Page 62 of The Two Last Moments

Wind blows in from over the ocean, whipping my hair around my face. It’s a perfect Southern California day, yet I feel like I’m in the middle of a storm.

“What if I was the one who sent those emails?” I blurt out.

Danny frowns, studying me.

“We already figured the emails were a scam to get money from Nina. I came from a family of con artists. Cam said my stepbrother wanted my help. Abusiness proposition.”

“No. There’s no way.” Danny says this with absolute conviction.

“How can you be sure?”

“Because you wouldn’t do that. Not voluntarily.”

“But I had choices. Cam said I chose my stepbrother over him.”

Danny doesn’t have an answer for that.

I go down to the water, letting the surf roll over my feet. Watching the water smooth away the footprints behind me.

I imagine how it could’ve happened. What the truth might be. Maybe Cam was wrong, and Iwantedto work with Z just because I was that greedy. My stepbrother and I were con artists looking for a new victim, and we found Nina. The big house, the money courtesy of Danny’s father. So I sent the emails to her from the café to gain her trust… But something went haywire. I stopped writing to Nina. Came home with bruises. And then…

Why would I go to West Oaks? Why did someone come after me and run me down? Was it tostopme from reaching Nina?

Am I the heroine of this story? The victim? Or the villain?

I stare into the surf and try to understand.

Danny walks up behind me. “Hey,” he says. “Cam was wrong. I hope you realize that.”

“Wrong about what?”

His touch ghosts over my shoulders, his fingers tangling in the long strands of my hair. “At the café, he said nobody knows you. But that’s not true. It’s only been a month since you appeared in my life, and there’s a lot that isn’t clear. I’m well aware of that. But I know everything Ineedto know about you. So does Nina. You would never hurt someone the way you’re thinking. That’s just not you.”

I suck in a lungful of salt-infused air. “I want to believe you.”

“Then do.” Danny presses in behind me, reaching to cup my cheek and turn my head. I lean into his touch. I want to burrow into him, hide away where it’s safe. Just disappear. I think Danny would let me.

Maybe he’d kiss me, and we’d cling to one another. Pushing away the rest of the world like we did in those brief moments in his car weeks ago. But the complications keep building up.

How can Danny know me when I don’t even know myself?

My foot sinks into the sand as I retreat, putting space between us.

“You ready to go home?” he asks.

I nod.Home. But it’s not really mine. I don’t think I can call anyplace home.

We walk back to the car. I’m already feeling nauseous over everything we’ve learned today.

Then another shot of wrongness slams into me when I see the state of Danny’s car. “What happened?” I breathe.

There are huge scratches on the driver’s side door of Danny’s Charger. Gouges in the candy apple red paint. I gasp, my hands flying to my mouth.

“Oh, dammit,” he says, walking up behind me. “I guess some asshole doesn’t like red.”

“Danny. It’s… I’m so sorry.”

“I can get it fixed. Sucks, but it’s just paint.”

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