Never Lie (50)

“Yeah…” He sighs. “I’m not going to lie—I’m not thrilled with you right now. But I see why you wanted to get rid of that video. And… I’m glad I could help you.” A lopsided smile creeps onto his face. “Also, it’s good to know that you’re not so perfect either.”

I return an equally crooked smile. “I never claimed I was.”

“Okay, now that we’ve settled that…” Luke’s eyes flicker in the direction of my office. “Let’s get this asshole back to his car.”

_____



I’m in an incredibly good mood as I make the drive back from EJ’s house in my Lexus with Luke in the passenger seat. About an hour ago, he assisted me in loading EJ into the passenger’s seat of his Porsche. He insisted on being the one to drive the car with EJ inside, because he didn’t want me in there in case EJ woke up during the half-hour drive. Although part of me feels like he just wanted an excuse to drive a Porsche.

When we reached EJ’s house (paid for by his parents), Luke parked the Porsche in the driveway. He left EJ passed out in the passenger seat, then he got into my car—and now we’re on our way home.

I have the music on in the car—an opera I went to recently in the city—the window is down, and the air feels wonderful on my face. For four months, EJ had been holding that horrible video over my head and using it to manipulate me. Now I’ve taken care of the problem. All thanks to Luke.

If the opera were in English and I knew the words, I would sing along.

Luke is strapped into the passenger seat, absently staring out the side window. He did absolutely everything I asked of him, and although he wasn’t thrilled about it, he fixed my problem. As I study his profile at a red light, I feel a rush of affection.

“I love you,” I say again.

He turns away from the window. I reach out my hand and he takes it. The squeeze he gives me is halfhearted but I can’t entirely blame him after the day we’ve had. “I love you too.”

“And maybe,” I say, “we can look into you moving in? Like, soon.”

His eyes widen. “Really?”

Butterflies flutter in my stomach. “Really.”

For the first time since I talked him into doing this, I coax a genuine smile out of him. “Okay,” he says.

I turn down the tiny road that leads to my house. The road is paved, but just barely. I always loved the solitude of my isolated kingdom, but I’m ready to share that kingdom. After all, what’s the point of six bedrooms if you’re only using one of them?

As I park the car, my phone buzzes in my pocket. A text message. Ever since EJ started blackmailing me, the buzz of a text message used to fill me with dread. But now I am strangely calm as I remove my phone from my pocket and look down at the screen.



You bitch. You broke into my house.



Technically, the statement is not accurate on two counts. First of all, it was Luke who entered his house. Not me. Second, we did not break in since we had a copy of his keys. But EJ would not appreciate me pointing these things out, even though I’m tempted to do so.

A second message appears on the screen:



I’m going to kill you.



“What’s wrong?” Luke asks me. He’s gotten out of the car, but I’m still in the driver’s seat. He’s peering through the open window at me.

EJ does not intend to kill me. He’s angry because I got the better of him for a change. If he really wanted to kill me, he would keep his mouth shut. You don’t send somebody a text message expressing your intention to commit a crime if you’re genuinely planning to do it.

But if I show this message to Luke, he won’t see it that way. It will surely worry him and make him think we have made a terrible mistake. He doesn’t understand men like EJ—I do.

“Nothing,” I say. “Nothing is wrong.”

I click on EJ’s number and block it on my phone. Then I get out of the car and follow Luke into the house.





Chapter 37


TRICIA



Present Day




I’m going to throw up.

I clamp a hand over my mouth, but it’s unstoppable. I shove Ethan aside and make a mad dash for the kitchen, just in time to hurl into the sink. I grip the edges of the kitchen counter, my vision blurring before my eyes.

“Tricia?”

Ethan’s hand touches my back, and I shudder at his touch, and not in a good way. I close my eyes, trying to block out what I just saw in the compartment under the floorboards. But I can’t. I’ll be seeing that image until the day I die.

I’m sorry we came here. Sorry we got started on any of this.

“I guess we know what happened to Dr. Hale now,” Ethan says in a husky voice.

“I guess so,” I choke out.

I didn’t know what to expect when Ethan opened up that compartment. But that was like nothing I’d ever seen before. A rotting corpse, stuffed under the floorboards. I don’t know how long it takes for a human to turn into nothing but bones after death, but this body hadn’t reached that stage yet. There was still dried-out black skin clinging to the bones.

And scraps of clothing. What possibly used to be a blue shirt. Denim pants. Evidence that once upon a time, that desiccated corpse was a real person. They put on pants and a shirt that morning, never suspecting how their day would end.