“What makes you think I’m the one cooking and eating the produce?”
If answering questions with questions were an Olympic sport, I’d win gold.
“Lila, why are you acting like I haven’t known you for most of my life?”
“Wishful thinking,” I snark.
“You’re always on some stupid, unnecessary fucking diet. My sister eats nothing but junk food. So why the fuck isn’t she eating here?”
I blink at him while visualizing a piano falling on his head, ala Roadrunner and Coyote.
Still proving his case, he piles on more evidence. “She hasn’t been here in a while, has she? There’s a ring from nonuse in the toilet bowl in her bathroom too. The kind when it hasn’t been flushed in a long time.”
I fling my arms out wide. “What do you want from me, Reed?”
His eyes double in size, and he mashes his lips closed like he’s holding back his words by force. After a beat, he grits out, “A lot of things. But right now, I want the truth. How do you know theguy I chased out of the casino? Why was he passing something to your boyfriend? Where is my sister? And why do I have the feeling those questions are related?”
Like two stubborn goats, we stare at each other, butting heads and fuming. The smoke detector will blast out any moment now from the fire raging between us.
Reed’s theonlyone who does this to me. It’s like he has the key to turning my world upside down. Always has.
Even still... I want this to go away.
It needs to end.
Not only the confrontation with him, but everything. All of it.
I’m so freaking done.
My anger at him gradually melts away, leaving room for the desperation and helplessness I’ve been living with for weeks. There’s no way out. I’m tired, and I need help.
I surrender.
Best I can do is hope he’ll help me instead of locking me up. If that happens, at least he can start searching for Kenzie.
“Reed,” I begin, my voice meek and unsure.
The cashmere cushioning his voice surrounds me with reassurance. “You can talk to me, Lila.”
I hope he’s right about that because I don’t have any other options.
“Listen, Reed, I need to?—”
My cell rings, severing my connection with Reed as if it were slashed with a sword.
I dart into the living room, searching for the purse I hurled at him when I got home. My phone’s beside it on the floor, along with my wallet and keys.
When I swipe it off the carpet and check the screen, my heart freezes, and my throat threatens to close.
It’s Silas.
Considering an overly suspicious FBI agent with a history of ruining my life is in my home, it’s only logical that a criminal would call me.
Perfect timing to go with my perfect life.
SIX
Traitorous balls
