Page 95 of His Property

I let out a groan and walk to my kitchen where my phone is. I have to text Victor and call off whatever he’s doing. He had it wrong, this isn’t about Cora.

TJ grabs my arm and spins me before I make it to my phone.

I glare at him and whip out of his hold. “What are you doing?”

“You can’t call him.”

I see the anxiety all over TJ’s face, and I regret snapping at him. “It’s okay,” I say, frowning. “I’m not going to tell him it was you, but right now he thinks it was someone else who threw the brick through his window tonight. He’s trying to track them down right now, and I need to stop him. I’ll just tell him I know for certain he suspects the wrong person. I’ll pay for the window, and we’ll move on.” My tone turns serious. “But you need to promise me you’ll leave him alone. Understand?”

His eyes brim with tears, and he shakes his head. “You don’t get it, Mae.”

My lips pull into a frown. “Don’t get what?”

“You should’ve stayed away from him. If you had, none of this would’ve happened.”

I let out an exasperated sigh. “You didn’t have to break into his house and—”

“You called the police.”

My brain fogs again, and I tilt my head.

“Cora just got out of prison. The police take every accusation against ex-cons seriously, and I’m sure you knew that, but you called them anyway. Your boyfriend is a fucking sociopath, and you still called them. You have no idea the damage you could’ve caused.”

It takes a solid three seconds before the fog begins to lift, and my eyes widen as it does. I stare at TJ, horrorstruck, and my breathing stops.

No.

No, no, no.

“Why would you do that?” he asks, anger starting to show.

My heart sputters, and air finally pulls into my lungs. “TJ…”

He brushes past me and yells as he slams his hands on the table. I just stare at him, not knowing what to say or do, too struck to do anything at all. He takes my phone and hurls it across the kitchen.

“TJ…”

“What?” he snaps, spinning to face me.

“How do you know about Cora?” I ask, knowing the answer.

He huffs and curls his lips with disdain. “I guess you’re not the only one with taboo taste.”

“Shit,” I say with a sigh. I press my hand to my forehead and close my eyes.

“Don’t fucking judge me. I’ve known Cora for two years. You knew her lying-sack-of-shit-son for two minutes and were all over him.”

“She’s your pen pal, isn’t she?” My voice shakes. I open my eyes, letting my hand slide from my face.

“Yes.”

“Was she the one who told you to bet on that game?” I ask, my brain picking up missing puzzle pieces by the second.

He glares. “It was supposed to be a sure bet, and she needed money for when she got out.”

“She played you.” I take a step toward him and gingerly lift my hands. “She knew exactly who she told you to bet against, and she almost got you killed.”

TJ scoffs. “I thought you said your boyfriend wasn’t a killer.”

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