Page 43 of Best Friend's Dirty Ex

I slip into a shadowy corner, hoping I'm completely out of sight, and stay silent.

“Maybe she didn't run away at all. Maybe you kidnapped her.” The accusation leaves Lyla's lips, and he finally turns around, fury igniting in his eyes like fire.

“How dare you accuse me of kidnapping her.” Something in the way he says the words tells me there's a lot more depth to her comment and his anger than I know on the surface. “Do you really want to talk about kidnapping?”

He advances a step on Lyla and she takes a step back, as if worried he might hurt her. That surprises me. I've never once worried that he might be violent with me. Sexual, maybe. Incorrigible, absolutely. But abusive? No.

But maybe that says less about him and more about what she said. Maybe she knows that whatever accusation she just has made, she deserves more than just his fury. I'd never condone abuse, ever. Or excuse it, of course, but I do know that there have been times where I have said something and fully expected to get slapped for my words because they were so ugly.

But that was the old me. The new me who has healed and moved on after James would never be so cruel to anyone. I know what it feels like to have someone be absolutely cruel for the fun of it, and I've promised myself I'd never do the same to someone else.

“I don't know where she is. I'm worried about her and I think you need to go find her rather than yell at me and accuse me of something we both know I didn't do.” There’s a quiet roar to his voice that has every hair on the back of my neck and on my arms standing on end.

Whatever 's going on, he's absolutely not amused by her behavior and definitely thinks she's handling things wrong. Given what I've heard, I can't help but agree with him. If someone she loves and cares about is missing, why isn't she out looking for them? Why is she here accusing him of something when he so vehemently denies being involved?

“Oh, now you're going to tell me that I'm not doing things right?”

His eyebrows lift at her unhinged response. “She's missing and you want to stand here and argue with me about stupid shit that doesn’t matter and won’t bring her home?”

Again, I can't help but agree with him that she is not doing the right thing here. If she truly believed he was involved, why wouldn't she call the cops? Something doesn't feel right. It almost feels as if she's trying to punish him for something or trying to hurt him.

Why is she so convinced he's involved?

“Are you sure she wasn't kidnapped by someone else? Did she maybe run away? Have you involved the authorities?”

Lyla doesn't seem to have anything to say, and Troy takes her shoulders in both hands, giving her a slight shake. “Did you call the cops? Did you report her missing?”

Lyla shakes her head.

Troy lets out a sigh, his hands falling away from her shoulders as he shoves a shaking hand through his perfect hair, clearly upset. “You need to call them now, Lyla.” The frustration edging his voice echoes within me, and I can't believe that she or the child's parents didn't immediately call the cops first thing when they found her missing. I don't know how old this niece is, but does that matter? If she’s missing, they need the cops involved.

Which only bothers me more and makes this whole thing more confusing.

I'm struggling against the urge to open my mouth and ask questions. I don't want to give myself away, given that I've been hidden in this room listening to a private conversation. But I also want answers.

Lyla's phone rings, ending the struggle within me. She quickly answers, and I sense Troy holding his breath.

“Hello?” She glances up at Troy, and I see him staring down at her, his expression twisted with disgust and anger. I know in that moment he has no love in his heart for her. Whatever she did to him back then was clearly unforgivable. Which is strange given that she accuses him of cheating and says that he is the bad guy.

“She's home?”

I see all the stress and tension drain out of Troy's shoulders, and they drop several inches as he breathes out and glances up at the dark ceiling above.

“What happened?” Lyla seems eager for answers.

The other person on the phone responds, and I see Troy jerk upright.

Lyla’s posture suddenly changes, as if she feels threatened.

“Oh,” she says. “Are you sure?”

I can't quite decode that response, but I sense something significant just happened.

“And you think we should both come?” Lyla glances up at Troy, who seems shell-shocked.

The person responds, prompting Lyla to answer. “That's okay, I understand. I'll... see what I can do..”

She ends the call, and the two of them stare at one another for a moment in absolute silence.

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