Total pages in book: 169
Estimated words: 162138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 811(@200wpm)___ 649(@250wpm)___ 540(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 162138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 811(@200wpm)___ 649(@250wpm)___ 540(@300wpm)
“No, you weren’t.” He brings a hand to cup my face. The look in his eyes breaks my heart. “You had no reason not to trust him.”
“It happened again like that. The third time, I was already suspicious. I poured out the soda he handed me and replaced it with another flavor. I wish I hadn’t, because that time, I remember.” I shiver. Lach’s eyes darken. “He knew that I knew since I was screaming and fighting him. He didn’t do it again after that, until the day of the accident.”
“We have to tell the cops,” he says quietly.
“And then Luke, I told him what happened. He’d been demanding to know what was wrong with me since I’d been acting differently. He wanted to know why I was suddenly wearing baggy clothes. He went to Jameson’s house and took a bat to Jameson’s car, punched him, and said he was going to the cops. . .” I look at our hands, focus on how much bigger his look against mine. “He’d been with me the night before and told me what he was going to do. I tried to talk him out of it, and he promised he wouldn’t go. He fucking promised. And the next day when he didn’t show up, I got worried, and then Prescott and I found him. . .”
“That’s why you’re sure it wasn’t suicide.”
My eyes snap to his. “His body was sitting upright on the chair. Half his fucking head was blown off, but his body was in a sitting position? Afterwards, Pres and I were on the lawn, taking turns vomiting and shaking while being questioned, and in the midst of police and detectives and news reporters, Jameson walked by smiling. He smiled at us.” I squeeze my eyes shut for a moment. “I’ll never forget that smile. I’m sure Prescott won’t either.”
“That’s why Pres and Marissa won’t say anything or go to the police,” he says.
“Jameson’s cousin is the chief of police now, but even back then, he had major pull in the department. And Jameson has always been the golden boy.”
“Fucking bastard.” Lachlan’s jaw ticks. “He recruited me. He coached me for two years.”
“I know. And then he moved on and became the head of sports. Of all sports.”
His eyes flash. “That’s why you quit.”
“I didn’t want to give him any more power over me. He started showing up at our practices, going into the locker room, when he thought I was alone. I knew he wasn’t going to stop.” I grit my teeth and wait a moment. “For reasons I can’t comprehend, and trust me, I’ve thought about it a lot, he thinks I belong to him.”
Lachlan, who was already angry, looks even angrier now. “You don’t.”
“I know I don’t,” I say quietly. “He knows it, as well. He wouldn’t have attacked you otherwise.”
“I told the team that you were my girlfriend before the game, and he was there,” he says. “I thought it was safe and I told them.” He runs his hands through his hair. “Fuck.”
“It isn’t your fault.” I grab his chin the way he does mine all the time. “People had been talking about us since Marissa’s birthday, and he saw me at the game wearing your jersey. I’m sure he saw you watching me at that football game screaming like a lunatic.” I smile. Nothing can tarnish that memory. “You giving us a title probably pissed him off more, but he was going to do it anyway.”
I wait until he speaks. He doesn’t.
“Why the hell do you think I left? Why do you think I stayed away from you?” I ask. “I couldn’t walk around with a public figure and risk him finding me. Finding us. I knew if you were alone, he wouldn’t do anything to you, so I stayed away.”
“I’m going to fucking murder him,” he says after a moment, in a low voice that sends a chill down my spine.
“You can’t just show up. . .”
“Yes, I can.” His eyes flash to mine. What I see in them terrifies me. “I’m going to show up and I’m going to kill him.”
CHAPTER 46
LYLA
I wake up in the middle of the night and immediately feel his absence. I sit up, expecting to find him in the sitting area, but the room is empty. My heart pounds hard. I look at the time. It’s five in the morning. I throw off the covers and rush out of the room. If he left without me, I’m never going to forgive him. I halt when I see him sitting at the edge of the couch, facing the city. It’s a beautiful view, especially at night. With him still shirtless and in his gray pajama pants, even more so. His head snaps up as I walk over, but he doesn’t say anything. My heart stops when I see the troubled look in his eyes. I walk between his legs and kneel. The cold marble floor on my shins makes it difficult to stay in place, but I manage.