Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 99500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
“Did we wake you from your nap, Love?” Hugo asks, plastering on a false cheerful smile.
It’s then I realize it’s not Spencer he’s speaking to, but instead, Jude. All the warmth I’d felt on seeing Hugo gives way to a sudden chill. I’m barely clothed and it’s obvious with me wearing Hugo’s shirt where I’ve come from.
Jude sits on the sofa, thick, muscular thighs spread, somehow taking up all the air in the living room. His white mask is in place, hiding his mysterious face from me, but his eyes are sharp and calculating. It’s always weirded me out that his family accepts that he hides behind a costume.
I can feel Hugo’s stare on my legs, probably secretly imploring me to go change. But I feel as though something’s going on and I’ll miss out if I leave. Instead, I make my way over to Hugo’s chair and sit on the arm. The shirt hem rides up my thighs, showing off my colorful tattoo, but Jude’s stare doesn’t move from my eyes.
God, he is so creepy.
“Maybe you should get dressed for the day?” Hugo asks, voice tight and slightly pissy.
It takes me a half second to catch on that he’s angry at Jude seeing me like this. Warmth blooms inside my chest. I like the way his jealousy feels burning through my veins.
“What did I miss?” Ignoring Hugo’s suggestion, I glance over at Jude. “You guys were whispering. Either you were being quiet because I was napping or you were talking about me. If you were talking about me, I’d like to know what was being said.”
Jude’s eyes are still boring a hole into me like he’s trying to pick apart my brain and learn everything there is to know about me. It’s not pretty beneath the blond hair. It’s a dark, shameful place.
I might be wearing Hugo’s shirt and scantily dressed, but Jude’s gaze doesn’t wander. Hugo’s jealousy is misplaced.
Jude’s in love with his demons. There’s no room for anyone else.
“We weren’t talking about you,” Hugo says with a resigned sigh, moving past the worry of my lack of clothing. He, like me, must sense Jude’s complete and utter disinterest. “We were talking about your mother.”
I straighten, whipping my head down to look at Hugo. When he’s not in his suits and casual in a pair of gray sweatpants, he’s still sexier than just about any man alive, rivaling only that of his son.
“Not just Neena.” Jude’s muffled voice draws my attention back over to him. “Spencer too.”
My stomach hollows out and a wave of nausea passes over me. Based on the whispers and the tension in the air, I have a feeling I’m not going to like this.
Spencer, what did you do?
“What about them?” I croak out.
Jude leans forward, iPad in his fire-scarred hand, to show me a video still. It’s Spencer. At a hair salon. Big deal. I don’t understand what’s so dramatic about this.
“Swipe,” Jude instructs, relinquishing the iPad to me. “You’ll see.”
Spencer again and again and again. All over town in businesses and restaurants. The dates on some of these are as recent as this week.
“So he has a shopping addiction?” I laugh weakly and completely humorless. “What does this have to do with Mom?”
Hugo squeezes my naked thigh in an effort to comfort me. “Those purchases being made are from her debit card.”
My head begins to throb as I process this information. “Why would Spencer be using Mom’s card to buy things?”
“I don’t know,” Hugo admits, “but we’re going to find out.”
Where is he right now? Is he off buying more stuff to pretend to be her? This doesn’t make any sense. The only reason he’d do something like this is to hide the fact she’s truly missing.
Where is she?
“When he gets home, we’ll demand to know what he’s been doing,” I rush out. “Because there’s no reason to go to such great lengths unless…”
Unless he hurt my mother.
In a permanent, irreversible way.
“What if…Hugo, what if he killed her?” I manage to squeak out. “Oh God. Oh God.”
Hugo’s arm slides around my waist and he pulls me into his lap right in front of his brother. I can feel Jude’s intense stare, but I’m more worried about the bomb Hugo just dropped on me. The last thing I care about is if Jude can see how intimate me and Hugo are being.
“Hey,” Hugo croons, rubbing my thigh. “We’re not going to jump to conclusions, okay? Jude’s going to track his car and phone to see exactly what he gets up to each day.”
“Why can’t we just ask him?” I set the iPad down on the arm of the chair, curling into Hugo’s solid, safe chest. “There’s no reason to go to all these lengths.”
I can ask him. To look at his eyes to see if he can lie to my face.