“She put shit on your car?”
I shake my head. “Oh my god, you know about that?”
“I do.”
“I don’t get why she would do it all. We’re not super close, but I thought we were friends. She’s come out with me, Zoey, Mikey, and Brad so many times. How did you know it was her who took it?”
Denver’s arm is like a shield around me, and I lean into his side, the scent of him helping to calm my racing heart.
“I saw photos of her meeting that model you fought with the day it went missing. She was handing it over to Theodora in exchange for cash.”
“I can’t believe it,” I murmur, sinking further into his side as a shiver runs through me. “Do you think she…” I squeeze my eyes shut as my throat burns. “Do you think she paid those boys to try and take Monty too?”
Warm lips dust my forehead. “If she did, Princess, then we’ll find out.”
I sniff, trying desperately to cling on to the safety of his deep voice.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” I murmur as Denver leads us toward the top of the alley. “I mean it. Not just you being my bodyguard, but just… being you, being there for me like you are. I know we never saw what’s happening between us coming, but I want you to know that I think the world of you and I?—”
“Get behind me!” Denver barks.
He reaches for his gun, maneuvering me behind him at the same time.
“What’s wrong?” I cry.
His gun is pointed at a figure at the head of the alleyway before they even get the chance to take a step toward us.
“I’m armed and I will shoot if you come any closer.”
I look out from behind him and take in the man standing frozen to the spot, his palms up in front of his stomach as he stares at Denver’s gun. Something about him is familiar, even though I’ve never met him before. But I’ve seen photos. I’ve looked him up online, needing answers, needing to know why she would do what she did to my father.
“Neil?” I gasp.
“Hello, Sinclair.” He lowers his hands and tilts his head like he’s trying to see me better around Denver’s body shielding me.
The click of Denver’s safety being released echoes off the high walls around us.
“Is he going to shoot me?” Neil asks me.
“If you move any closer,” Denver hisses.
“I wouldn’t test him,” I say, craning my neck to see him better. He’s the same age as my father but looks older with thinning gray hair and sallow cheeks. His eyes are dull, like he hasn’t slept properly in months. He looks like he did in the photos of him and Mom that my father found hidden amongst her things after she died.
Only he was smiling in them. He looked like someone in love. And so did my mother.
Now he looks sad and lost.
I swallow the bile that’s threatening to creep up my throat.
His eyes widen as he takes me in. “My god, you look so much like her. Elaina told me you were fair like her, and that your brothers were dark. And I’ve seen pictures, but seeing you now… I?—”
“What the hell do you want?” Denver snaps, his gun trained on Neil’s forehead.
“I just want to talk.” Neil glances uneasily at Denver, then back at me. “Sinclair, please, I just want to talk. Your father and brother will never want to hear what I have to say, but you?—”
“Was she going to leave my father for you?” I choke.
Neil’s face falls. He looks like he might step closer, but I shake my head at him as Denver stiffens.
