Dirty Love (Dirty Girl Duet #2)(48)

Holly draws in a breath and releases it. “If it’s true, he’s going to find out. He always finds out.”

“I know.” I meet her gaze, more serious than I’ve ever seen it. “But it can’t be true. So he’s never going to find out, right?”

I get a nod from her. “But I’m not cuttin’ myself and smearing our bloody hands together. It’s not safe for the baby.”

We both stand, and I wrap my arms around her neck. “Thank you for listening.”

“What are sisters for?”





“Hey, I wondered what happened to you. Hungry? Or did you grab something while you were out?”

I’m holding the mustard bottle in midair when Greer walks through the door, a big black purse clutched to her side. She looks up at my words, but it’s like she doesn’t recognize me or comprehend my question. It’s the long blank stare that clues me in to the fact that something is off.

“Greer? You okay?”

She shakes her head, as if snapping out of the trance she seems to be in. “Sorry, what’d you say?”

I set the mustard bottle down on the counter and come around the island. Greer clutches the purse tighter to her side as I get closer. A file folder sticks out the top. The one from yesterday.

I swallow, knowing it’s time. “You get your work stuff sorted out?”

Greer bites her bottom lip so hard, it goes white. She waits too long before releasing it and answering. “I don’t know.”

A feeling of dread pools in my stomach.

“Why did you tell me he was dangerous?” Her voice sounds pained, as if the words are torn from her throat. “How did you even know who he was?”

It’s now or never. “I need to tell you something.”

Greer squeezes her eyes shut like she can’t bear to look at me. “I’ve heard a lot of things today already.”

The dread multiplies. She can’t know.

“Where were you, Greer?” The words come out rough.

Her eyelids blink open, and the dark brown eyes of the girl I’ve fallen in love with over and over are shiny with unshed tears. “Rikers. Trying to get Stephen Cardelli to sign a letter stating he no longer wanted me as his lawyer so I could withdraw from the case.”

“What did he tell you?” I’ve never wanted an answer to a question less.

“Something that I don’t think could possibly be true.” A tear spills onto her cheek. “Tell me it’s not true, Cav.” Her face twists into the look I’ve feared. The one I knew would cut me off at the knees. Confusion, revulsion, brokenhearted pain. They’re all there.

“It’s not what you’re thinking, Greer. I swear to you, it’s not what you’re thinking.” No, I add to myself, because it’s worse.

“Did you kill a man named Donnigan and frame Cardelli for the murder?” Her voice shakes as she asks the question point-blank.

I can’t lie to her, even though the words tear into me like the rounds I unloaded in that alley.

“Yes.”

Greer sucks in a short breath and her hand goes to her mouth. Her eyes squeeze shut, and each tear that falls is another jab through my heart.

What kind of man makes his girl cry?

I have to make her understand. “I did it to protect you.”

Her eyes snap open, confusion clear on her face.

“What?” It comes out as a whisper.

“He didn’t tell you everything. He couldn’t tell you everything because he doesn’t know everything. You got one part of the story without any context, and I swear to you, whatever you’re thinking right now is going to be different when you know it all.”

Greer drops her purse to the floor and jams both hands into her hair. “Then tell me everything because I’m seriously losing my shit here, Cav. I don’t know whether to call the police or call you a lawyer.”

Another direct hit. I can’t lose her. I have to talk fast. She needs to understand what happened.

“Do you remember the day you called me to meet you at the hospital because Tracey had been killed in a hit-and-run?”

Just saying the words brings the memory back in vivid detail . . .




I knew something was wrong the moment Greer’s shattered voice came on the line.

“The hospital just called me. I’m Tracey’s emergency contact on her phone. Something happened, and they need me to come down there.” Her voice shook. “It’s gotta be bad. They don’t call you like this unless it’s bad. They won’t let me talk to her. Will you please come?”

She was right—it had to be bad. A pang of sympathy went through me for whatever was about to unfold.

I’d met Tracey a few weeks before, and she was a sweet girl. She and Greer had been attached at the hip before I entered the picture. I couldn’t tell you how many times I’d watched the two of them together before I’d crossed the line and started talking to Greer. If I hadn’t known Greer was the only girl in the Karas family, I might have mistaken them for sisters. Both had long dark hair, similar builds, and shopped at the same stores.

I grabbed my tool bag and headed for the maintenance closet. “Of course. Where are you? Where do we need to go?”

She breathed into the phone, and it sounded like a sigh of relief.