Page 53 of Secret Triplets for Christmas

I glanced up at Lindsay.

Her brows pulled together. “What?” Just then, her phone pinged as well. She pulled it out. “You’re asking for trouble. Stop snooping around. Give me what is mine,” she read.

I nodded.

I turned back to my phone.

When I find it, how do I get it to you?

I needed to find out who this asshole was.

I’ll know when you find it and let you know.

“Whoever it is, they know we went to the FBI. They’re following us, or at least one of us.”

Lindsay shivered.

Keep pushingand you'll regret it.

It would be easierif you told us what you wanted. I was getting sick of this bullshit.

Stop pokingyour nose where it doesn’t belong and find what I want.

“Fucking hell.”I tossed my phone onto the coffee table and poured the little bottles of whiskey into a glass. “Why not just tell us what they want?”

“Maybe they don't know either."

"What do you mean?"

"Think about it. They knew Liam had something incriminating, but in five years, they haven’t found it. And of course, if we knew what it was, it would be easier to narrow down the search, but they don’t. Maybe they can’t because they don’t know what Liam had.”

That made sense. Buddy told me the hacker had been trying to wander around my files as if they weren’t sure what they were looking for.

“The question is, how are we supposed to figure out what it is if even they don't know?"

“I don’t know.”

I picked up my phone, about ready to tell this asshole off, but stopped myself. I read the messages again, recognizing that whoever it was seemed to be keeping tabs on me or Lindsay or both. The danger of the situation suddenly became all too real. I looked over at Lindsay. She was once again sifting through the papers, doing exactly what the threatening text asked us to stop doing.

"You need to leave and stay away from me, Lindsay.”

“What?”Again, she looked at me like I was speaking a foreign language.

“With my connection to Liam's dangerous world, you could get hurt."

"Oliver, I'm already involved, with or without you.”

My agitation grew, fueled by fear and frustration. "I’ll tell them I’ll find whatever they want, but they have to leave you out of it.”

She smirked. “I doubt they’ll listen.”

“I’ll make sure that they do.” I wasn’t sure how, but I would.

“We’re in this together.” She turned back to the papers, ignoring me.

Desperation grew. I had to make her leave. “I don’t want you here.”

She tensed and looked at me with sharp eyes. “Do you think being rude will get rid of me?”

---