Page 17 of A Sublime Casualt

My heart drops when I see that last part. Whoever is doing this just dragged Theo into it. And that odd reference to being cold snags my attention once again. “Looks real. I mean, I saw her account. It’s still live, and that’s her avatar, her name.” I scroll through and read each and every cryptic message, all of the usual suspects. The messages he relayed over his own account are all here. And then I hit pay dirt. “What’s this?” I rub my thumb over it.St. Regency Hotel. Ten.The date readsJune nineteenth.

“That’s from before.” He snatches his phone back. “I’m like Domino’s. I deliver in thirty minutes or less.”

“Impressive.” I slap my hands over my jeans and wipe off the grime from his phone. “Well, thank you for your time, Miles.”

“Yeah, sure.” He holds out a hand, and I shake it. I’ll have to bathe in hand sanitizer once I round the corner. “Anytime you guys want to come out and do it again, I’m up for it.” He squints over at me as if the sun were too much to bear. “You’re not really with Conrad, are you?”

My stomach spears with heat as I rise to leave. “I am.” I wink and nod as if he understands. Miles Wallis is a good guy at heart. I’m not sure he’d have the wherewithal to kidnap, let alone lure a pistol like Lizzy off somewhere. No. He might be annoying as a gnat, but he’s harmless as one, too.

I glance back and spot him jumping off the ridge of the bowl with his skateboard before letting out a screaming howl.

He was her dealer. Theo’s sister was busy doing underwear shots for money. I wonder if Theo knew his sister at all? His mother seems to have. Maybe it’s time I met dear old Mom.

I pull my phone out and start texting my newfound boyfriend.

Changed my mind about Thanksgiving if the offer is still on the table.

He texts right back.You bet it is. Can you get someone to cover Friday? You won’t be able to move the next day. That is, if your stomach doesn’t burst.

“Nice visual,” I mutter.I will for sure. I’m excited. Thanks again for the invite!Cutesy exclamation point, only this time I think I actually mean it. I hitsendas I pick up my clip and circle around the lake.

Theo is taking me home to meet his mother.

I, for one, cannot wait. I’m thinking his mother has a few secrets of her own.

* * *

Gabby didn’t letup until I walked out the door. She lent me her Vera Bradley duffel bag in a wild pattern of salmon, black, and green. I used to admire it when she took off for the weekend with Jackson, and now I fear it. She stuffed it full of those ridiculous matching bra and underwear sets made of pasties and dental floss.No, thanks, I wanted to say. I’m more of a let’s-get-straight-to-business girl. No time for the frills. I’m all thrills. But then, the guys I’ve been with have never requested frills. I doubt they would have appreciated them.

Theo’s family lives in Redgrass, almost two hours away. And the entire drive over is peppered with a potpourri of conversations, everything from religion to politics togasp! the fact that his ex seems to be suddenly stalking him. No taboo subject was left off the table. We picked up coffee at Starbucks first thing, and the caffeine wound me up until it seemed like my teeth were clattering on their own. I figured I’d need to turn up the charm from the get-go. Make Theo comfortable first. And I want to. I like Theo. A lot more than I should. For sure more than I want to. But I need his mother to like me, too, and in order to do that, we need to go in with good energy. No regrets on his part for bringing me here today. The mother is basically a human lie detector. The sister will be, too, if not more so. That’s why I didn’t dare tell him about my little meet and greet with Miles Wallis. If Theo knew his sister was shooting porn for “dirty dudes” and that his mother had an inkling about this behavior, he might go in guns blazing, quite literally. He’s packing. It’s in a holster tucked under his left arm somewhere. I felt it when he hugged me at the gate. The sports coat hides it. I don’t get it, though. We’re going to his mother’s for God’s sake. I guess he needs to do something with it. I’ll be the last to tell him I’ve done a few things with it myself.

The Stavros homestead sits on a sprawling twelve-acre ranch that looks as if it could swallow Wakefield whole. Out front there’s an expansive box garden that has gone to slumber for the season. Rows and rows of oblong pine boxes line the vicinity like coffins as far as the eye can see. To the right sits flat-yellowed fields with a string of elm trees skirting the property like a fortress. The house is massive, a typical rambling ranch, with a giant wagon wheel mounted under the roof pitch. The porch is so wide you could host the student body of Conrad out here. About two-dozen cars sit in a semi-organized pattern around the driveway. Laughter and the steady hum of conversation emanate from inside, and when Theo opens the door, the sound of lively music in a language I don’t recognize vibrates off us, heavy on the cymbals and the vocals. The thick scent of turkey greets us and the scent of something spiced layered just underneath that. Cloves, I think. Joe has them in the kitchen and hardly uses them, but I like the smell. I can see why people smoke it.

“Happy Thanksgiving!” Theo shouts, and the room breaks out into a wild cheer with the same enthusiastic greeting.

Dozens and dozens of people fill a spacious grand room. All of them olive skinned, dark curly hair, eyes like cut jewels. You don’t know who to look at first. One by one they steal glances in this direction. The whispering begins. I avert my eyes from the masses and study the architecture instead. High ceilings with chocolate wooden beams outline the length of the room. The walls are paper white with bright blue dishes dotting the walls in a cheery pattern.

“Oh my God!” a high-pitched voice squeals as a girl who looks eerily like Lizzy comes at him with open arms. Here she is, his sister. Look no further. They share a quick embrace. “I was starting to get worried about you! And who is this?” Her periwinkle eyes light up, and if I look closely, I can see Theo hiding in her face.

“This is Charlie Neville.” He pulls back and waves a hand over me as if I were a prize.

Iamif you’re a deputy of Strafford County.

“Charlie.” She ticks her head to the left, same way Lizzy has it in that picture they’ve wallpapered Wakefield with. “What a cute name. I’m Nicola, but everyone calls me Nikki. What’s Charlie short for?”

My mouth opens, and I take a quick breath. Bullshit rule number seven hundred thirty-five: Think quick on your feet or sink. “Charlene.” I shrug. “My dad called me Charlie. It just stuck, I guess.”

Theo’s brows dip, and his smile dissipates. Crap.

“Stepdad.” I bat my lashes up at him and jostle my cleavage. Look at my tits, you pervert. It’s what you’re best at, and I don’t really mind it. I might have let a morsel of truth slip with him earlier, and I can’t for the life of me remember. Every bullshit rule ends with never slip up in a lie.

An older version of Nikki comes at us fast from the kitchen. Her hair is long and wild, her eyes a dazzling shade of green, and this throws me. Huh. The sky-blue eyes must have come from their father, the one with a second family in New York.

“Welcome to my home,” his mother cries with a groan as she pulls both Theo and me into an embrace. She takes a moment to examine me. “My goodness, you are beautiful.” She slaps her son over the stomach. “Treat her right. Don’t let this one get away.” She winks at me as if she were teasing, and I instantly warm to her. Theo is so lucky to have such a great family. I would have never done what I did if this were the case.

Theo blows out a breath while glancing to the ceiling. “All right. Charlie, this is my mom, Calla. She’s a bit of a drama queen when it comes to me, so ignore just about everything she says.”

“Hey!” She gives him a quick tap on the side of the head with her knuckles, and already I like her. “Nikki, come help me get the food on the table. Now that the prince is home, we can get to business.”