Page 17 of Secret Triplets for Christmas

“Liam. Don’t go.” I strode after him. “I’m sorry for hitting you. I’m sorry we had such a shitty life. But God, you’re so close to breaking free from it.”

He shrugged. “You’re the one who wants to break free. I know I’ve held you back from that. I relieve you of whatever duty you feel you have to me. Go. Take that job in California.”

“I’m not going to leave you.” Panic filled me. I was losing him. The idea of being alone in the world was fucking terrifying.

“So don’t. I’ll leave you.”

That was the last time I saw Liam… at least, alive.

I did my best to push those memories and the guilt away as I stepped into the elevator to ride up to the floor where Detective Riker worked. I needed information about Liam's murder and the ominous text Lindsay and I had received.

Lindsay. When I wasn’t reliving the horrors of losing Liam, I was haunted by Lindsay. Since landing in Boston last night, I'd been second-guessing myself and this trip. I didn't want those old feelings for her rekindled, especially when I couldn't act on them without betraying my dead brother.

The elevator car arrived on my floor. I sucked in a breath, working to get myself focused on the task at hand. The elevator door slid open and I stepped out right into the path of Lindsay. My breath caught at the sight of her. She was as stunning as I remembered.

"Oliver.”

A flood of emotions washed over me and it took me a minute to find my voice. “Lindsay. Hello.” Should I hug her? Shake her hand?

“What are you doing here?" she asked.

"I, uh, came to talk to the detectives about Liam's case."

We stood staring at each other awkwardly. Suddenly, she stepped over to me, giving me a hug. The warmth of her body, the sweet scent of her, stirred up long-ago yearning that I couldn’t afford to have.

As she stepped back, I resolved to keep the ugliness of Liam’s life away from her. “I’m sorry, Lindsay.”

She cocked her head to the side. “For what?”

“For whatever Liam has dragged you into.”

“It’s not your fault.”

I studied her, noting that while she was still as beautiful as ever, her blue eyes didn’t sparkle like before. Right now, they were tired and wary. I couldn’t blame her. Five years ago, she found my brother dead in her home. And now this. Ominous texts and her home broken into.

“Is there anything I can do? I understand you had a break-in. Can I replace anything? Fix anything?”

She gave me a wan smile. “That’s not necessary, Oliver, but thank you.” There was a distance, a detachment from her voice. “I just hope they realize I don’t have whatever they want.”

“I hope you’re right.” But I remembered Detective Riker saying she got her text after her home was searched, which to me said they didn’t find what they were looking for.

“I’m surprised you’re here. The police said there was no need for you to come.”

I shrugged, telling myself I was an idiot to feel like she was telling me she didn’t need me around. “I want to know what’s going on and do what I can to help.”

She glanced at her watch. “I’m sorry, Oliver, I’ve got to go.” Was she just giving me a line? God, how pathetic was I? She probably had a job. Maybe a husband and kids. But as she started toward the elevator, the need to not let her go drove me to stop her.

"Wait, before you leave, can we meet up later? Maybe grab some coffee?” After all, I was here to protect her from Liam's past. "We could compare notes, see if anything makes sense."

Lindsay hesitated. "Alright, but just for a bit.”

We agreed on the place and time, a small coffeehouse that had been popular when she and Liam were in college. Then she hurried away, leaving me feeling like she’d have been just as happy to have made this our one and only contact.

I took a deep breath and turned my focus to the task at hand—getting answers. I strode toward a group of officers.

"Detective Riker?" I asked the nearest officer, who pointed me in the direction of a tall man with graying hair.

"Didn't expect you here," he said as I approached.

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