Page 110 of Lies Like Love

“I need you to tell me everything, Jude.” Tears well in my eyes, a salty sting like I’m already drowning in the ocean. “No more lies.”

Jude nods, swallowing hard. The collected, controlled man I’m used to slipping away. Vulnerability sheens his eyes and it’s more terrifying than his stone-cold, lethal stare.

“Back when my dad met your mom, I didn’t think anything of it.” He brushes a hair off my face. “At least not past the point of being pissed that he was making it harder for me to flirt with you.”

Jude closes his eyes and takes a deep breath like he’s preparing himself for whatever he’s about to admit.

“I started to notice him watching you after we moved in. It’s why I didn’t stay after school unless I had practice, and I didn’t like to go out with friends. Something wasn’t right, and I had this bad feeling.”

Jude squeezes my hands.

“When you told me he was waiting in your room once, I knew something was off. He was the one who sent me to the store to pick up a few things. It didn’t make sense.”

“What did he do?” I swallow hard, already feeling the answer hanging between us.

“He hid cameras. I found them when you were at the library late one night.”

Deep in my chest, a black hole opens to consume me. Sounds are fuzzy, and I can’t process what Jude’s saying. I never felt comfortable around his dad, and I always thought he looked at me a little too closely, but he was my stepfather, and I thought he cared about my mom enough that I was imagining it.

“I got rid of them.” Jude’s teeth clench.

“Wait.” I shake my head. “When I saw you coming out of their room that day. You were holding something.”

A camera.

I accused him of filming my mother, even if it didn’t really make sense. But now, I see it clearly—the vacant stare in his eyes, his drained face.

“After I found the cameras, I confronted him. But he pretended like he didn’t know anything about it. So I had to find proof.”

“And you found those in his things?”

Jude’s face hardens, and he shakes his head so slowly, time stills. “No.”

He squeezes my hands. The earth is too heavy. The salt too thick as I take in a deep breath.

“I found them in your mom’s dresser.”

Time stops.

I blink, I think. I’m no longer part of existence.

I shake my head because Jude can’t be right. My mom was cold, but she’d never do that.

“No.” It comes out a choked whisper.

Jude reaches up and grazes his fingers over my cheek, which is when I realize I’m crying because his hands feel wet on my skin.

“She needed money, my dad had it. He promised not to touch you if she let him…”

“Film me?” I finish his sentence, and he nods. “How could she? And how could you know that?”

“I went to her, thinking she could help stop him because I didn’t know her involvement at the time.”

My head’s shaking involuntarily as my mind rejects his confession.

“I tried to stop it. I threatened to expose them. But your mom took matters into her own hands. Instead of going to the police as I asked, she turned my dad in to the cops for embezzlement, and she slit her wrists to hide their secrets.”

My eyes burn with tears. I can barely see as Jude hauls me against him. He cocoons his arms around me, absorbing every shake of my bones as I choke on my sobs.

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