Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78598 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78598 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
“Cai—” I called out as his footsteps hit the stairs. I twisted around, meeting his gaze—still pissed. “Should he be taking this long?”
“This isn’t a regular day on the job. Finding a body on the bridge calls for clocking out late.”
I nodded. “I’ll get started on making us something to eat, then.”
“He won’t have anything in the house,” he said, going into the kitchen. Cairo returned with a phone and takeout menu. He tossed both in my direction.
“What do you want?” I called.
He didn’t reply, heading back up the stairs.
Sighing, I studied the Chinese restaurant menu. I recognized the logo as the same one on the bags Paris carried into her room, beaming as we got down to a fun night of movies, board games, food, and geeking out.
Paris.
How was I supposed to tell her all of this? I could hardly say a psychotic death club got their hooks into me while my mental health was teetering on the edge, and then the murder of my sister was the final push that tipped me over.
I’m not the girl you knew. The one you had so much in common with. The one who could still make goofy jokes. Laugh. Smile. That girl died long before she lost her sister.
No, there just wasn’t a good way to start that conversation.
“Hello, this is China Garden. How can I help you?”
“Hi. Can I have the honey garlic chicken, cashew chicken, and a small order of wonton soup, please? Thank you.”
I gave him the address and wrapped up the call. My stomach was already growling for that cashew chicken.
“So you faked everything.”
Jerking, I whirled around. Cairo watched me from his seat on the steps—elbows slung across his knees and gaze boring into me.
“Rainey hated nuts.”
Slowly, I lowered the phone. “But I don’t. This is strange for me too, Cairo. Imagine how it feels to come out of this fog and realize I was keeping her alive in this way—while her killers ran around free.”
“This is just some switch you pulled. Twenty-four hours ago, you were Rainey de Souza. Now you’re eating cashew chicken on my couch with that dead-eyed look like nothing touches you.”
“If you’ve got something you want to ask, ask it,” I snapped. “You want to know who I am. Who Ivy is. I’ll tell you, Cairo. I’ll tell you anything, but you need to stop acting like this was all one big plot to trick you guys into falling in love with me.” Cairo stood in the middle of my sentence and walked off. “You don’t get to make the worst thing that’s ever happened to me about you!”
A door slam was my only reply.
Cursing, I clutched my head—pressure building behind my eyes. Goodness, he was such an ass. How had everything about me changed, but I was still in love with that prick?
The question passed through my mind and the answer rose to meet it. I still loved him because one thing hadn’t changed. The darkness in him called to me. It had always been there no matter what name I called myself. These were the only guys for me. Anyone else would look in these dead eyes... and run.
Eventually, the food came. I called for Cairo but he didn’t come down. There was no use pushing him. I left his food outside the door and continued my silent vigil downstairs. I had plenty of thoughts to occupy my mind.
Who killed Zoey? If the Bedlam’s Men of Honor and Steven Ellis’s Men of Honor didn’t want the same thing, what were they after? Why come for Gran and my family? Were there diamonds on my farm? Had they been there all along?
Back and forth my mind went long into the night. The more answers we got, the less I understood.
“De Souza?” A firm hand shook me. “De Souza, get up.”
I shot up, heavy eyes cracking open. Empty containers and fallen couch cushions greeted me. I fell asleep.
“Cairo? Is your father here?” I spun, noting a sunless sky seeping moonlight through the window. “You didn’t talk to him without me, did you?”
“I would’ve, but no.” A look I’d never seen before crept across his handsome face. “Old man didn’t come home. I ended up calling the station. The receptionist picked up and said he left hours ago. Something’s wrong.”
“Wrong? You said a new body meant late nights.” I got to my feet, vision clearing on the clock. It was two in the morning. “Could he be out tracking down leads on Zoey’s killer?”
“He would be, if there was any report of a body found on Chaney Bridge.” Cold understanding dawned. “Connie didn’t know what the hell I was talking about. She’s never heard of Zoey Mariner or that she’s dead.”
“He took her.” The truth ripped from my throat. “Arsenio was bleeding out. Zoey was dead. We had no choice but to get out of there and get him help. After we left, he took the body. Whoever killed her was watching the whole time.”