Page 89 of The Tangle of Awful

“What if…Hugo, what if he killed her?” I manage to squeak out. “Oh God. Oh God.”

Hugo’s arm slides around my waist and he pulls me into his lap right in front of his brother. I can feel Jude’s intense stare, but I’m more worried about the bomb Hugo just dropped on me. The last thing I care about is if Jude can see how intimate me and Hugo are being.

“Hey,” Hugo croons, rubbing my thigh. “We’re not going to jump to conclusions, okay? Jude’s going to track his car and phone to see exactly what he gets up to each day.”

“Why can’t we just ask him?” I set the iPad down on the arm of the chair, curling into Hugo’s solid, safe chest. “There’s no reason to go to all these lengths.”

I can ask him. To look at his eyes to see if he can lie to my face.

“He’s my son,” Hugo rumbles. “I’m not going to accuse him of something without having more to go on. We’ll see what Jude uncovers and then I’ll confront him. But he needs time to do that. Can you please let me handle this, Love?”

I nod, squeezing my eyes shut. “Yeah. I can do that.”

For now.

“Good girl.”

Is Spencer capable of murder?

A shiver dances down my spine. He’s not exactly nice. I’ve been on the receiving end of his cruelty and it’s not pretty. It’s painful and devastating. Could he have turned that wrath on my mother?

Maybe he’s behind the other stuff too. Is he capable of planting a snake in my room? Definitely. Would he? Doubtful. The pictures and cameras, though? That’s more his speed. It’s suspicious that the cameras were planted by someone who has the code to their home. Spencer could have easily done that.

I’m sitting cross-legged in the center of his bed, waiting for him to return home. His room is so perfectly neat. It’s a total serial killer room. Maybe Mom is one of many. What if I’m next?

My phone buzzes with an incoming text.

Harold: The doctor thinks we’ll get moved from ICU to a regular room soon. Tasha is awake but in a lot of pain and can’t really speak. I’ll let you know when she’s in a room so you can visit. Be safe, Aubrey.

Guilt grabs my ankles and drags me into a deep, dark pool of despair. Spencer hates Tasha. If he killed Mom, she’d be a loose end to clean up. She’d been pretty nasty toward him the other day.

Would he do such a thing?

An ache in my chest begs me to disagree. It’s Spencer. The same Spencer who’d been so upset when telling me his reasoning behind why he started hating me two years ago and the utter confusion on his face when he learned he might’ve gotten it all wrong. He’s not some evil mastermind. Just passionate and sometimes angry.

He loves me.

He wouldn’t try to kill the ones I love.

I’m lost in my torturous thoughts when Spencer’s door opens and he saunters in. At first, he doesn’t see me, but then, when he does, he flashes me a flirty grin that makes my stomach tighten.

That’s not the face of a monster.

“What’s Jude doing here?” Spencer asks, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “And why are you wearing Dad’s favorite shirt?”

I’d like to clear the air right now. To demand to know what he’s been doing with Mom’s card and to make sure he hasn’t done something with her. Everything would get straightened out in a flash.

Or, it could blow up in my face.

Maybe I’m blinded by him.

Maybe he is capable of such things and I could be jeopardizing a real opportunity to learn what’s happened to my mother.

“Hey, leech. I know you want to suck my dick, but I’d like to have a little small talk first. Sometimes I think you use me for my dick and body heat at night.”

Playful Spencer makes my heart weep.

I can’t say anything about the card, but I could try a different tactic. Go another direction to see if I can get a read on him.

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