Page 66 of Lies Like Love

“I’m going to head home.” Fel avoids my gaze in favor of scanning the room.

“I’ll take you.”

Her blue stare snaps in my direction. “I’m capable of getting there by myself.”

“I’m aware.” I set my glass down.

I don’t care if her grandparents paid a driver to take her to her door. After last night, I’m tempted to never let her walk the streets of LA at night alone again. She never could see the monsters standing in plain sight. Which is why it took her too long to realize I was one of them.

Luckily, she doesn’t say goodbye to her grandparents. Or maybe she already did, and I missed it because her grandfather was clouding my thoughts with his bullshit. But we slip out of the party the same way I arrived—quietly.

Fel’s silent the entire drive back to her apartment, giving me time to think. The second she opens her mouth, her sass will push me over the ledge, so the silence is welcome.

In the car, I strip off my jacket and tie and roll up my sleeves. Being in a suit for the first time in years is suffocating. Another thing I wouldn’t do for anyone—except her.

When we get to her place, I walk her all the way up.

Sick.

Obsessed.

I can’t let her out of my sight because if anything happens to her, I won’t stop until everyone suffers.

When we finally reach her door, she sticks her key in the lock, and pauses.

I’m not sure if it’s her or the wall vibrating. Her teeth rake her bottom lip, and her fingers shake around the key.

“Everything okay?”

If a picture says a thousand words, her eyes are a mural. Heartache and hope. Pain and beauty. A battle raging. Calling out to me.

“Do you want to come in?” She might hate herself for asking me that question, but she can’t help it for the same reasons I’m standing in front of her now.

Just like I’d sell my soul for her, she can’t deny I’m the drug in her veins. I’m the high she’s chased until she couldn’t help but feed her addiction.

Inevitable—just like I told her. There’s no escape.

And as I follow her into her apartment, I’m prepared to prove it.

“You came.”

It’s not a question. Fel’s grandfather doesn’t ask questions. He makes statements with the kind of certainty that turns them into facts.

“I had to.” Across the lawn, Fel climbs out of a black town car and makes her way across the cemetery. Her red hair is tied back, but strands shake loose with the wind. “I need to talk to her.”

Her grandpa hums, following my gaze, as Fel stops in front of her mother’s casket.

There’s so much pain in her eyes that she looks almost numb. Puffy lids and swollen cheeks. I’ve no doubt she’s been crying for hours. Days even.

“You don’t want to do that,” her grandfather says after a long moment.

I can’t help the unamused chuckle that breaks out. “I don’t?”

He turns to face me, pulling my attention away from Fel.

“Your father is in jail. Her mother is dead. Let her grieve, Jude. Let her move on. Absolving yourself of your guilt is only going to cause her more pain. She has a real chance to get past this if you let her.”

“You mean you want me to hide the truth?”

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