“Sly has it,” I say softly, leaning back against the countertop but not taking my eye off the door.
What would Nolan do to me? He’s never actually hurt me. Not physically. He’s never been inappropriate in that way. Maybe he’s fucked with my head mentally but the past few weeks, I’ve not been able to reconcile his responsibility for all this murder.
Maybe it’s denial. Maybe it’s because I’m right. The only way I can find out is by talking to him.
“I’m going to kill her.” Sylvan’s words in the background, and the slice of anger in them makes me flinch.
I tighten my grip on the knife’s handle.
“What is it?” Faust demands.
Sylvan doesn’t speak and neither does Faust. Not for a solid two minutes.
I open my mouth to snarl at them to hurry the fuck up and fill me in when Faust breaks the tense silence.
“That number isn’t Nolan’s, North.”
I stand straighter, fingers stiff around my phone, the sensation of a spider crawling down my neck making me shiver in the dark.
I don’t say anything. I’m not sure I trust myself to speak.
“It’s Tasia’s.”
FIFTY-EIGHT
FAUST
In the dead of night, the drive will be quicker, but it still isn’t fast enough to get to my girl. In my head, her running into my arms, away from Jackson—the very first night we met—plays on a loop. She was scared, yeah, but there was something else too. Like she was having a wicked sort of fun, the way the corners of her red lips were tipped up a little and she flashed the barest hint of a smile when her palms collided with my chest.
I like to think she wasn’t too unhappy to see me. I enjoy imagining that when our eyes collided in the dark outside the arena I’ve spent way too much time in, something sparked for both of us.
I know now she thrives on a little danger, but it doesn’t erase what we have.
And if Tasia tries, I just might kill her myself.
In the passenger seat of my BMW, Sylvan is dead silent. Highly unusual for him, and it goes to show just how much we both have fallen for this girl.
Detective Lincoln is on his way, too, but I left him behind as soon as we got on the 407. What, like he’s going to pull me over? I don’t think detectives have that kind of power anyway, andregardless, he’s too worried about solving the serial murder case that might make or break his career to give a damn.
What I don’t understand is how Tasia fits into this. Is she that bitter? I think the answer is obvious, and yet it still doesn’t seem to make much sense. She and Sylvan had sex a few times, but they were never dating. Then again, it’s not like he learned much about the girl from what I can tell. The few questions I’ve asked have been met with piercing glares and stony silence.
If he treated Neve like that, she’d never speak to him again. And maybe neither would I. But we’re past that now, aren’t we? Without a conversation, not even a discussion on commitment, it just seems she’s ours.
She’s fucking mine.
My fingers tighten on the wheel as I think it while we drive in complete darkness, few other cars on the highway, and the sun not due to rise for hours yet.
I try her number again with the buttons on my wheel, but once more, I don’t have enough service to call her. I try not to let panic bleed in. Sylvan tried too, but the 407 is notorious for claiming 5G, then not allowing a single text to push through.
The blond American girl. I had no idea that was the type I’d fall for.
I glance at Sylvan, his hair sticking up at all angles with the way he’s ran his gloved fingers through it so many times.
Yeah. The blond American boy didn’t quite fit my future either, but now I can’t imagine anything else.
I turn up the song playing through my speakers—“Soldier” by Eminem—if only so I don’t lose my mind thinking about her, about Tasia, about Nolan on the security camera. They couldn’t find where he went though. At least that’s the story Lincoln told us. We didn’t get to look at the footage ourselves; we’ve never met her brother, so we couldn’t claim we needed to ID him. But the detective wouldn’t have left Kawartha Lakes if he thought hisguy was still there, would he? Which meanssomething,either from the footage or other intel he hasn’t shared with us, told him Nolan Devine was no longer in cottage country.
My mind spins as I try to think it through. Tasia, not bothering to hide her number, sending texts in the dead of the night spooky enough to convince Neve they were from a burner phone of her brother’s. Which means Neve had some indication her brother didn’t quite have normal brotherly feelings toward her.
