Page 82 of Lethal Vows

“I have to go.”

“Stay. Please. He won’t find you here.”

I know she’s right. But staying here gives the impression that I’ve forgiven her, and I don’t forgive her for lying to me for that long. She had many opportunities to tell me the truth.

“I won’t bother you. You can have the couch. I’m off to bed anyway.” She holds open her door, and I look inside and wonder which one I’d rather face—her or Crue. I pick the lesser evil—her. She smiles at me and quickly closes the door behind me.

Her apartment hasn’t changed in any way, but it all feels different now. I was here not even six weeks ago, eating takeout and drinking wine.

She walks to the closet where her spare blankets and pillows are stored. I look at the photographs around her place. Some with her family. Or her supposed family. I wonder how deep this lie ran about our friendship. I wonder if anything she told me was true.

“They’re my real family if that’s what you’re wondering,” she says as she dumps the blanket and pillow on her coffee table. She goes to pull on the couch that turns into a sofa bed, but I know too well it’s outdated and has a trick to it.

“I’ll help,” I offer, then we heave it open until it clicks into place.

She brushes off her hands and puts the bedding on while I silently help her.

“I stopped taking money from your father, by the way.”

Oh, goodie, this is the exact conversation I want tonight.“That’s because we stopped being friends.”

She sighs. “I didn’t tell your father that part because I still consider you my friend.”

“It seems like a lot of people struggle to take hints these days,” I mumble.

She laughs. “Yeah, well… if you have Crue Monti on your ass, me trying to be your friend is the least of your concerns.”

I stop pulling out the sheet, still baffled by how casually she mentions my father and Crue—two powerful men in my life that I deliberately stepped away from and purposefully kept her out of the loop on. And she fucking knew all along.

“Did you know Crue would be there that night… at my birthday?”

“No,” she says flatly and stares at me. She’s not lying. I can tell. She waits for me to hook my sheet over the corner on my side. “But I knew he’d be on his way soon enough. I had no idea he was already in town.”

“He’s been here for years, apparently.”

She freezes at that.

“Shit spy you make if you didn’t know that much.”

“Shut up.” She laughs as she throws a pillow at me. I catch it, still conflicted by how I should interact with her.

“Just because I’m staying here doesn’t mean I forgive you.”

“I’ve never known a Ricci to forgive.” She rolls her eyes.

“You know my family well, then?”

“No, but my father knows yours. It’s how this whole arrangement came about. My father owed him a favor, and I got dragged into the crossfire.”

I certainly know how that feels.What the fuck is it with these old men making promises that involve their daughters?Like, shit, do things yourself.

We begin to pull up the blanket. “But, Rya, I want you to know it wasn’t always about that. At the start, I almost hated you because of it. But then I realized you were just… well, normal.”

I laugh at that. She knew my family name and still considered me normal. Perhaps I wasn’t the only delusional one in this friendship.

“I know I can’t be forgiven for lying to you, but I sure as hell can try to make up for it.” She tosses down a pillow.

I sigh. I’d fought and ran away from too many demons tonight. “Monica, the last six weeks have been hell. Right now, I just can’t.”

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