Page 58 of Sweet Like a Psycho (Secrets of Suburbi 2)

“Invest what?” Most people invested money that they set aside from their day jobs.

“My inheritance.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.” That made sense. She had lost her father, mother, and stepfather. “That was rude of me to ask.”

“It’s fine. It’s no secret that I don’t work. Can you imagine me going to work every day? I’d lose my mind,” she said with a laugh.

“I’m sure you’d be able to handle it.” I started to cut up the vegetables she handed me. “So were your parents wealthy?” I immediately regretted the question. Why was I pushing this? She had just told me everything I needed to know. Not that I was worried that she was running around town pulling bank jobs. But I had been curious about where all her cash was coming from. Before today, I thought maybe she needed a little bit of financial help. I had found myself wanting to be that help. Now that she didn’t need it, I was curious about how much she didn’t need it. Was she just rolling around in cash?

“No, not particularly. But I got a big fat life insurance check from my mother's death. Apparently she’d had a pretty substantial policy ever since she got married to my dad. He was worried about her mental health. He probably thought she might try to off herself at some point. Honestly, I was worried about that too when I was little. I’d been terrified of being left alone with my stepfather. The money was the one good thing my mother ever did for me. All I have to do is invest it properly and I’ll be good.”

She didn’t need a man to take care of her, but I already knew that. I just wanted to be a part of her life. My ego was a little bruised though. The salary from my job was probably chump change to her. I was more focused on the fact that she said her mother was suicidal though. Maybe the peculiar cause of death had nothing to do with Violet at all. Of course it doesn’t. I was 99 percent sure she wasn’t involved in her stepfather’s and mother’s deaths.

“What are you doing?” she asked me. “You didn’t even peel the onion.”

I looked down at the cutting board. I hadn’t been paying attention, not that I particularly knew what I was doing.

She laughed and pulled the knife out of my hand. “Here, I’ll let you cut up the bread instead.” She handed me a loaf of fresh Italian bread. “Maybe like half inch slices. Think you can handle that?”

“That’s probably more my speed.” I took the knife bread and watched in awe as she sped through chopping the vegetables. She was full of surprises.

Chapter 21

Violet

“Sure you don’t want a glass?” Damien asked for what felt like the tenth time.

I had never been one to succumb to peer pressure. But my stomach had been in knots ever since he arrived. For some reason, I found myself wanting him to like me. He was friends with Tucker, and if Tucker and I ever became something then Damien would be a part of my life too. Thinking about it made my stomach hurt even more. What was I doing? I couldn’t date a detective and be friends with another. That was asking for trouble. But going on the way I had wasn’t an option either. I needed to open up to someone or I’d drown in my own secrets.

My afternoon with Tucker had been really nice. He was respectful, even though he was a little nosy about my past. He was trying to get to know me and I kept adding to my pile of lies. I heard Zeke’s laughter filtering in through the other room. Tucker had told me he was going to try again to convince Zeke that the new lizard was Lizardopolous. Lying clearly wasn’t working. Which just reinforced the fact that I didn’t have a choice here. Tucker wanted to talk one on one tonight. I could just tell him a tiny bit and see his reaction. I’d confess one secret and see how he took it. That was harmless enough.

I looked back at Damien. “You know what? I’d love a glass.”

He gave me the one he’d poured for himself and then went to the cabinet he’d seen me pull the glasses out from originally. He was certainly making himself at home already.

I took a sip. I hadn’t had a drink since the last party I had been to in high school. The wine was bitter, but it was certainly better than cheap, stale beer. Maybe it would help with my compulsions. I didn’t want Damien’s negative opinion of me to be reinforced tonight. I wanted to fix it. And clenching my hand in a fist all night to prevent myself from tapping anything wasn’t going to cut it. The nerves made me worse. If I remembered anything about drinking, it was that it made me feel less nervous.

“This is a lot nicer than I thought it was going to be,” Damien said and looked around the kitchen.

I wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or not, so I didn’t say anything at all, I just took another sip of my drink.

“When I was little I used to throw rocks at the windows with my friends. We’d all run away, scared that ghosts would come out and chase us.”

I laughed. “I did too. I was always kind of fascinated by the place.” It was weird that we had something in common.

“I was always creeped out by it.”

Well, maybe not that much in common.

“Is it true that you just rent it or something?” he asked.

The or something made me know what he was really asking. I’d heard the rumors that I lived in this abandoned house without a real claim to it. Just a psycho living out in the woods.

“It was the property of the state. I bought it outright.” This was one thing I didn’t need to lie about. The place had been abandoned for years and I got it for barely anything. I was pretty sure the state would have given it to me for free if they could have.

“Oh. I didn’t realize that.”

“Yeah.” I shrugged my shoulders. “People like to assume things instead of asking me. They’d rather not talk to me at all.”

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