Empty.
The dogs aren’t even barking.
And then I hear it.
Voices.
Dad’s office down the hall.
I don’t pause.
I don’t think.
I don’t check a calendar, because why the fuck would I?
And that’s my fatal mistake.
That’s absolutely my fatal mistake.
Because it’s Tuesday.
And when I burst into my dad’s office, ready to go off like a banshee…
I find the two of them cuddling on his office couch.
Buck naked.
39
Holt
There’sa red sports car outside Roland Keating’s house. A familiar red sports car with its owner’s girlfriend leaning against the driver’s side door.
Goldie doesn’t look surprised to see me as I hop out of my Jeep. “Ziggy’s been trying to call you.”
Shit.
My phone doesn’t ring through when I’m driving. Some setting I haven’t fixed yet since the last operating system update. “She inside?”
“Yeah. We got here about thirty seconds ago.”
A scream emanates from inside the house, and that’s all it takes.
I’m in motion, busting through the front door, following the raised voices through a maze of hallways because the house is freaking ridiculous.
I don’t process the words—just the voices—until too late.
Too late being when I’m diving through an open door, following the sound of Ziggy’s high-pitched shrieks, to find?—
Fuck me.
Fuck me fuck me fuck me fuck me.
“Naked Tuesday,” I gasp, looking up at the ceiling.
“Holt?”
“Don’t look. Shield the baby’s eyes. Where are you? I’ll cover your eyes.”
