Dirty Little Secrets (Dirty Little #1)(44)

“No, he never said kill. He said ‘find,’ although the killing might have been implied. I was surprised he was so brazen about it, but I guess when you get away with so much for so long, you feel comfortable pushing the limits.”

“How much did you take?”

I swallow. I’ve come this far, no sense in trying to lie about it now. “Two million dollars.”

Sliding his hands through his hair, Caleb bows his head, taking a deep breath.

“I didn’t do it all at once, and I didn’t take it all from the same account, but like I said, I made a mistake covering my tracks, and here I am.”

“And your computer beeping means…what, exactly? That he found you?”

“I don’t know,” I say. “I had been really careful about not using my real name. I checked into the hotels under aliases, I used cash for everything. I used a burner phone to call Marcus. I didn’t want to give him any way to track me, but I put an alert on my own name anyway. It pinged last night because there were pictures taken of us at the benefit, and someone gave the press my name.”

Caleb starts bouncing his leg again, and then he stands, and he gives all of his pent-up rage an outlet by sliding his hand across the coffee table, and knocking everything on top of it onto the floor. “God damn it!”

I cringe at the sound of breaking glass, and look over at him.

“I’m the one who gave them your name. They asked, and I…”

“You didn’t know,” I say soothingly. I don’t want him to have even an ounce of guilt about that. “You didn’t know, Caleb.”

He turns, and oh, that anger is back.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve helped you before now. Now we’re on defense, and it’s better to work on offense.”

I don’t miss the ‘we’ in that sentence, but I can’t let him be a part of this. I won’t.

“I don’t know what being on offense feels like anymore. And I didn’t tell you, because how would that look? What would you think of me, if I had just met you and told you I had stolen money from a crooked millionaire who basically killed my father, and was responsible for ruining the life of my surrogate mother?”

Either he doesn’t have an answer for me, or the only answer he can come up with isn’t a good one. Not that I’d blame him one bit for running away after an admission like that. I wouldn’t blame him for running away now, but it doesn’t seem like he’s going to do that.

“Did you think you could just stay here forever? Start a new life?”

I shrug. “I came here to get away from the situation, to give myself some time where I didn’t have to look over my shoulder, and could take a breather to figure out how to make things better.”

“There is no making things better when someone’s sent a hitman after you, Mia. And you were just pretending it didn’t happen?”

“No,” I reply, my voice shaky. “There’s no forgetting something like that, but I came here, and I met you…and you made me want something different. You…you made me hope I could have it. I didn’t tell you, because I didn’t want you to look at me the way you’re looking at me now.”

“How am I looking at you?”

“Like you don’t even know me,” I say, not blaming him one bit for that. “Like you’re disgusted with me.”

“Not for the reason that you think.”

“Not because I’m a liar? Because I’m a thief?”

He glares at me. “You’re neither of those things, and no, that’s not it.”

Caleb rubs his hand across the back of his neck, then turns and looks out the window. He’s quiet for a few minutes, probably trying to figure out how he’s going to end this. I decide to make it easy on him; it seems like the very least I can do.

“I’m going to go get dressed,” I say, tugging on the hem of the shirt that I’m wearing. “I’ll be out of here in a minute.”


Caleb laughs bitterly, then turns and faces me, arms folded across his chest. “Where would you even go?”

“Back to Chicago,” I tell him. “To get this over with.”

“No you’re not,” he replies, walking toward the hallway. “You’re staying right here.”

“And what…you’re leaving?”

“I’m going to get dressed, and then I’m going to go work out what’s going on in my head. I want you here when I come back.” His eyes soften then, and he looks at me tenderly. “Don’t go getting any crazy ideas about turning yourself in, or leaving town. We’re going to talk about this some more, I just need some time to think.”

Caleb disappears down the hallway. He’s gone for two minutes at the most, and walks back into the living room fully dressed. It seems like he’s cooled down a little, and when he stops in front of me, he cradles my cheek with his hand. It’s the most comfort I’ve felt all morning.

“Promise me you won’t leave,” he says.

“I’ll be here when you get back.”

He gives me a small smile, as the pad of his thumb slides across my cheekbone.

When he reaches the front door, he turns and says, “Everything’s going to be okay, Mia.”