Page 99 of Toxic Kiss

“This is all the proof you need to know that I’m not lying or just saying it to get under your skin.”

The package feels like a ticking bomb waiting to go off. I can practically hear the tick, tick, tick.

He steps toward me, and I hold up my hand, warding him off.

“Don’t. Stop. I need a minute to think.”

My eyes dart from the envelope to his face.

“How did you get this?”

“I hired a PI.”

“You what? Have you ever heard of privacy?”

“I told you that he’s a player, Haven. But I knew you wouldn’t listen to me because⁠—”

“You’re an asshole?”

“Was an asshole,” he corrects.

“I beg to differ. Who the fuck hires a PI to destroy a person’s relationship and then claims to be their friend? Oh, that’s right, Cyrus Vale, that’s who.”

Cy sighs.

“Yeah, you’re right. I am just the asshole to do this,” he says.

My lower lip trembles, body shaking as I stare into his icy eyes.

“Read it, Haven. I’m telling you this guy is a fucking piece of shit.”

Cy’s expression darkens, and there is definitely something wrong with me, because it sends exhilarating shivers throughout my body.

“You’re lucky I’m giving you this, rather than showing up at his door and rearranging his face. You can’t bury your head in the sand, and I never took you for a coward,” he says, voice deep and full of rage that I can feel from where I’m standing.

Cyrus drops the heavy envelope on the table and then walks out. He may be physically gone, but his shadow stays behind with me.

My eyes dart to the seemingly innocent-looking package. It takes a herculean effort to put one foot in front of the other, but I step forward.

chapter

twenty-six

“Even the strongest drown when no one notices they’re sinking.” – Cyrus

HAVEN

The paper crinkles as I pick it up, and my fingers tremble on the smooth surface. I carry it over to the sitting area out on the balcony, unable to take my eyes off of it. The chairs are cozy with soft cushions. Despite the warmth of the night, the gas fire is going, giving off warmth as the shadows play against the wall.

I don’t know why, but it feels right being outside under the stars. There’s a small bar fridge, and I walk over to pull out a beer before curling up in one of the large chairs.

Then I don’t move. My stare is fixed on the building across the way, the sound of traffic is soft at this time of night, and soothing. There is something reassuring about the fact that no matter how bad shit gets, the world still turns. Lives move forward, and eventually you get swept back up into the rush and find ways to carry on.

Taking a sip of the beer, I set it aside and dare to untie the little string. Each rotation around the flimsy locking device makes my heart pound harder. My lungs hurt with each breath, as my hand slips inside the envelope and pulls out the thick wad of paper.

A USB drive falls out last and lands in my lap. Picking it up, I remove the top. It has an adapter made to fit my phone. Shit. No excuse.

The cover letter is from the PI service and provides a basic overview of what they found. Just reading over the words ‘Confirmation of affair’ sends me into a mild panic. Not because I didn’t feel that something was off between us, but because I did. I did, and I didn’t want to listen to my gut.