“Just curious if you have an update on Reed.”

I shrug even though he can’t see me. “No idea. I might’ve been acquitted, but my boss is keeping me in the dark since Reed’s case is connected to mine.”

“They raided his place a week ago,” Kingston reveals.

“Yeah, I saw that on the news. I assume they’re going through all the evidence they found to help build their case. Because of my connection to it, Embry promised they’re trying to speed up the process for his trial, but it could be years.”

“I assume they haven’t mentioned whether or not he can post bail?” Kingston asks.

I shake my head. “I don’t know yet.”

“And have you spoken with Dominic?”

“Not since your place,” I answer, squeezing the back of my neck. I’ve been avoiding him, though I’m not entirely sure why.

“That’s probably for the best. The more disconnected you seem, the better. Do you think they found enough information at Reed’s house to build a case without Dominic’s testimony?”

My brows furrow. “Why do you ask?”

“Just watching out for you, Jack.”

“Care to expand on that?” I grit out.

There’s a slight pause as Kingston addresses someone else before he tells me, “Look, I gotta go. We’ll talk more later.”

Then the call disconnects, and an uneasiness overwhelms the high I’d been feeling with Bianca.

This isn’t over yet.

19

Bianca

My knee bounces beneath the vanity mirror as I finish gliding the dark red lipstick across my bottom lip for the final time. The damn burner phone has been haunting me for days, but I can’t avoid it any longer. With a deep breath, I set the tube of lipstick down, then pull the small drawer on my vanity open. The screen lights up a few seconds later. I grimace as the messages start rolling in. One after another. Making me feel more and more dirty––and numb––as the notifications vibrate through the palm of my hand. But it’s one particular number that catches my eye.

555.843.4192: It’s Dominic. Call me.

I swallow back my nerves and reread the ominous message a dozen more times. What if I ignored it? Pretended my burner got lost? Or that I forgot to charge the damn thing? Maybe I could tell him that it fell in a lake or something. Maybe I could erase my past. Maybe I could give my future a real chance. Maybe Jack could even forgive me if I ever got the courage to tell him everything.

And maybe pigs could fly in another life. But not this one.

As if he has some crazy sixth sense, Dominic’s name flashes across the screen, notifying me that he’s calling.

My mouth feels like the Sahara desert as I force myself to answer it. “Hello?”

“Took you long enough,” Dominic growls, keeping his voice low.

“How did you––”

“You always check your calls before going to the gym. I know you, Bianca. Better than anyone, despite how much you like to argue that I know nothing at all.”

Holding my own gaze through the reflection of the vanity’s mirror, I sigh, “What can I do for you, Dom?”

“Is it official?”

“Is what official?”

“Don’t play dumb, Bianca. It doesn’t suit you.”