Page 21 of Depraved Truths

A smirk plays across my lips. “Friends? Why do I feel like you’re looking for more than friendship?”

His gaze, filled with desire, drops to my lips as he pushes me back against my car, his body pressing against mine in all the right places.

“I’d have to be fucking dead not to want more. Not to want you. But I’ll take what I can get.” He pulls back, releasing me. “For now,” he adds, his voice carrying an ominous edge as he turns toward his truck. “See you later, Tess,” he says, climbing into his vehicle.

My knees wobble as I press the unlock button and sink into the driver’s seat. Jesus Christ, what is this man doing to me?

As I start the car, I notice he's climbed into the cab of his truck and is waiting on me before he drives off. That is a gentlemanlything to do, right? He doesn’t move until I pull out of the parking lot, then follows behind me since we're headed in the same direction. I drive toward home, my thoughts firmly stuck on Eli. Perhaps I'm fighting this too much. A quick fling could be good for me.

Upon entering the city limits, he turns onto Main Street, heading toward the town center. Disappointment hits me like a wave, and a soft chuckle escapes me. Did I really think he was going to follow me home and fuck me senseless? The absurdity of my own thoughts makes me roll my eyes.

I continue for a few miles before turning left onto Deer Point Road. I adore this street and everything about the neighborhood. We have ample space, so our homes aren’t crammed together like those in the newer, wealthier developments. It’s elegant but not ostentatious. My neighbors are friendly but keep to themselves for the most part, just the way I like it.

I park in front of my house and start to get out of my car when something catches my eye.

The front door is wide open. I'm certain I locked it and set the alarm before leaving this morning. My fingers hover over my bag, reaching for my Glock, when I see Jane Hill, my neighbor, rushing toward me, waving her phone wildly.

I pause.

“Don’t go in there, dear!” Jane shouts. “Cricket started barking while we were walking, and I saw a man sneaking out of your house!”

What the hell?

Had someonebeen in my house?

I tamper down the panic rising in my chest and turn to Jane. “Did you recognize the man?”

“I don’t think so, but my Cricket scared him off,” she declares with pride.

My gaze drops to the yappy Pomeranian snapping at her heels. I highly doubt Cricket could scare away a fly, but I don’t argue.

“Thank you,” I reply. “I called the sheriff, and they’re on their way,” Jane adds, bouncing a little too excitedly. “Don’t worry, they’ll track down whoever did this.”

Jane has been watching too muchLaw and Orderagain, and at eighty-four, this is probably the highlight of her year. She is a sweet, harmless woman who recently celebrated her sixtieth wedding anniversary with her husband Fred.

The wail of sirens draws near, and I internally groan. Fuck. I would have preferred to handle this myself, without involving the police.

A black Dodge Charger with flashing blue lights pulls up, the goldSheriff’s Officeinsignia gleaming on its sides. Two officers emerge after the sirens are silenced. I recognize one as Marshall Randall, the sheriff’s son. Thegoodone, apparently. The other officer is roughly my height, with short blond hair and a cocky attitude I can see coming from a mile away.

Marshall tosses me a curt nod, and he and Mr. Cocky make a beeline for the house. “Wait out here.”

“Okay,” I reply, the word tasting like ash in my mouth as I paste on a fake smile. Inside, I’m fuming. I’m not some delicate flower or a helpless damsel in distress.Stay here, where it’s safe.Sure. Okay.

Their guns are drawn as they cautiously enter the house. It doesn’t take long. A few minutes later, Marshall and the other officer return, holstering their weapons.

“There’s no sign of anyone, and nothing looks disturbed as far as I can tell. Could you check inside to see if anything’s missing or out of place? Ethan will follow you while I speak with Mrs. Hill about what she saw.”

I nod and head into the house. My security system is state-of-the-art. Bryce had installed it and assured me it was the best, which meant no one should have been able to get past it. The violation gnaws at me. How dare someone invade my personal space? I search through every room, searching for anything amiss.

“Does anything look out of place, ma’am?” Mr. Cocky asks, his tone laced with boredom.

“I don’t think so.”

“Anything missing? Jewelry, electronics, underwear—” he muses, jotting notes. “Anyone have a key or access to your security code? Any ex-boyfriends or family members that might have an ax to grind?”

“No. And no to everything else,” I snap.

Marshall and Jane are standing near the island in my open-concept kitchen. The large picture windows frame a view of the backyard and lake.

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