Page 91 of Undeniably Corrupt
“It’s all good, you know,” Katy continues, propping her elbows on the table. “We like you and like you being with him. We want him to be happy.”
“For sure,” Kenna agrees. “He doesn’t do anything without thinking it through, so this is good.”
“Yes. Vander wouldn’t have,you know, with you if he weren’t crazy about you,” Sorel states as if it’s fact while she takes the baby off her breast, covers herself up, and brings him up to her shoulder so she can burp him.
That stops me short. “No.” I’m impersonating a goldfish. “That’s not how it is. Trust me. There’s not a lot of anything other than animosity between us.”
But even as I say that, I know it’s not true. Vander has been different since Sunday night when he caught me in his closet. And the things he’s been saying to me…
Estlin snorts. “Hate to be the bearer of bad news, but that’s how things started with me and Owen.”
“And all that animosity comes with heat,” Wren declares, fanning her face.
“You’d know,” Tinsley teases.
Wren shrugs. “Clearly I’m not the only one. As memory serves, that’s how you and Stone began too.”
“Whatever. Ignore them.” Katy turns back to me. “I just know Vander, but more than that, I remember him with you, and if things are already picking back up?—”
I shake my head, cutting her off, but it’s tough to deny that. Moreover, I’m still a little stuck on their comments about Vander being crazy about me. Even when I know that’s impossible. He wants me physically. That much is obvious. As anything more than a roommates-with-benefits thing? No. That’s even the term he used.
“Don’t believe us?” Sorel comments. “See for yourself.” She juts her chin up over my shoulder, and I turn to look and instantly lock eyes with him. He doesn’t smile, but there’s a burning in his eyes. A something extra he’s only giving me. Something that makes butterflies flutter in my belly and chest and my skin feel hot and tight.
I’m not sure what I’m doing and what I’m not with him, but my head and my heart are fighting a freaking duel to the death right now, and neither wants the other to win. Only in the end, I know this can only go one way, and no matter what, I’ll lose.
27
Iwas telling my friends all about special agent Vincent Vega, otherwise known as Leonard Morris, which also isn’t his real name. There’s a black spot surrounding him that I haven’t been able to infiltrate. I’ve planted crumbles and set out cheese, but short of aggressively taking over, I need them to nibble. When Liora finds out I’ve been subtly digging into her father, she’s going to be pissed. But what choice do I have? He knows things about me he shouldn’t, and that simple fact puts me—and her—at risk.
But why?
Why is she at risk, and why is he interested in me enough to dig into my past and send a fake FBI agent my way?
That’s what doesn’t make sense.
I know her father. He never liked me, fine. But Cass and I were close from the time we were in preschool together, and I’d spent some time at their house over the years as a result. They always seemed like the picture of happiness and love whenever I was there, but then I think back on the few things Cass said here and there. How Liora was adamant about keeping us a secret from them.
Nothing has been adding up, and Liora isn’t talking. She’s holding on to something dark. Something that has estranged her from her parents. And she’s cut me off. I’m pushing toward her, and she’s pushing back away from me. Why?
Stone suggested I go up to Maine without announcing it to anyone and see what happens. See if suddenly they’re on me. Then I’d know how closely they’re watching.
It’s a good plan, but my mind was swirling with the implications of everything, and I stepped out onto the balcony for a quiet minute.
That’s when I saw her. It wasn’t possible. I’ll admit that. The building is far away from the playground, but I still saw her. Across the park, a siren with angel-white-blonde hair fighting the gloomy sky caught my eye, and I saw her.
She’d been avoiding me all week and stuck to her rule about no more sex. It’s not even the sex I miss, though I do fucking miss it. It’s her. And with that, I’m done. I’m just fucking done fighting and lying it away. I’ve spent the last ten years of my life pretending she wasn’t the only girl for me. No one else has come close. Hell, I’ve hardly tried to find anyone else.
I told myself it’s because of what I do that I couldn’t date, and that’s part of it.
But they weren’t my girl. They weren’t my angel.
It wasn’t even conscious, and over the years, she had faded into the background. A distant memory I never allowed myself to dwell on. But now she’s everywhere, and I don’t know how to pretend that it hasn’t always been her. Moreover, I don’t know how to go back to the man I was without her in my life.
I don’t want to.
That man was unfulfilled and unsatisfied. He was hollow, always missing a piece of himself. I just didn’t know she was my missing piece until I saw her again.
With all of this in my head, I woke up before dawn and left. The drive to Lavender Lake, Maine, is fast and quiet at thishour. There’s still plenty of snow on the ground up here, and the storefronts on Main Street are the same as they’ve been, including my dad’s tattoo parlor and my mom’s women’s health clinic.
