Page 110 of Threaded Lies

Leo, no doubt, is a smart kid and catches the past tense used. Was. “What happened to him? Drugs?”

“Nah.”

“Guns?”

“Uh-uh.”

“Then what?”

I think of Chad. Of Rhett. Of Porter. All those corrupt fat cats using money to gain power.

Have I become what I hate?

“Doesn’t matter,” I say and sit up taller.

Never.

I will never be like them.

“He mattered though,” Leo says softly, sensing my discord.

“He did. A lot.” I reach over and ruffle his hair, a little surprised I said any of this. “He still does. He’s the why behind everything I do.”

FORTY-THREE

Rowan

“Holden?” I look down at the take-out dinner that was just delivered to my gran’s house.

“Hi.” The rumble of his voice has an automatic smile crawling across my lips.

“Why did you just have dinner delivered to me?”

“I’m assuming you’re hungry.”

“Well, yes. I’m always hungry, but that’s beside the point.”

“It’s from that restaurant a few towns over. The one we went to that night—”

“That we danced on the beach.” I glance down to the take-out bag again, the memory of that night so very clear. The first time we ever ventured out in public together and only because it was far enough away from here that no one would notice.

How did I miss the name on the bag and the meaning behind it?

“Yes. That one,” he murmurs.

“But why are you sending me dinner?” I ask. It’s been a whirlwind week. The meetings with our suppliers and subcontractors have eaten up all daylight and well into the night. Then after the negotiations came the schmoozing. The dinners out. The breaking of bread. The drinks shared to reinforce these relationships that are so very important to us.

Add to it that Holden’s been out of town for a few days. Some kind of investors’ meeting for the software company he bought and sold but remains on the board of.

It’s been all work and no play.

“Why did I send you dinner? Because my flight is grounded due to weather and because we need this.”

“What’s this?”

“Dinner. Together. Without distraction. Without the endgame of sex—although that’s never something that’s a hardship when it comes to you.”

“Holden.”