Page 106 of Things We Hide from the Light

“Okay, sweetheart. Oh, and one more thing. Your mom would kill me if I didn’t ask. Everything good with the ticker?”

“Everything is fine,” I said, forcing my exasperation into the box with my mad and sad.

Just a few emotional dings from a wounded, pissed-off officer of the law.

“I love you, Dad.”

“Love you too, Leens.”

I disconnected the call and slumped back on my heated seat. I’d preemptively called him to get it out of the way for the day. It was a constant balancing act of assuring my parents that I was alive and capable of taking care of myself while still giving myself the actual freedom to be an independent adult.

Having overly loving parents wasn’t something that I could take for granted, but it also wasn’t something I was thrilled about.

Reluctantly, I got out of the car and headed in the direction of the field, scanning the crowd for the man I hoped I’d never see again.

I’d successfully avoided Nash since he’d threatened to arrest me. My research team was running down Hugo’s known associates and keeping an eye on vintage car auctions. I was still crossing properties off my list. In my downtime, I managed to survive another workout with Mrs. Tweedy and consulted on two other investigations at work.

Something needed to break and it needed to break soon or else I was going to have to do something I’d never done before: quit.

I found Naomi and Sloane in folding camp chairs under blankets on the sideline.

“There she is,” Naomi said when I approached. She was holding a huge coffee in one hand and an innocuous-looking tumbler in the other. “We brought you a chair.”

“And alcohol,” Sloane said, holding up a short red tumbler for me.

“Thanks.” I took the offered drink and the chair. “Where’s Stef?”

“He’s getting, and I quote, ‘all the coffee in the world.’ He had a conference call with investors in Hong Kong about who knows what,” Naomi said.

“What does Stef do for a living?” I asked, studying the crowd. Naomi’s dad and Knox stood next to Wraith, a scary biker dude and dubious choice for a girls’ soccer coach. The only tattoos visible on the silver fox today were poking out of the neck of his leather jacket. He stood on the sidelines, legs braced apart like he was ready to battle it out with a rival motorcycle club.

Knox, I noted, didn’t bother to say hi. He merely glared at me before looking away.

Stupid Nash and his big, stupid mouth.

“No one really knows. He’s like Chandler fromFriends,” Naomi said.

Sloane studied me from under her pom-pomed hat. It was black to match her mittens. “You always look like a badass video game heroine ready to kick down a door or grab a sexy gun-toting guy and bang him into oblivion.”

Naomi sprayed a fine mist of coffee into the chilly air while I laughed.

“Uh, thanks? I think.”

“Tell her about the dress,” Sloane insisted.

“We put you in scarlet,” Naomi told me. “It’s very bombshell.”

“You’ll definitely get laid at the wedding in it,” Sloane insisted.

“Is everything okay with you?” I asked her.

The librarian groaned dramatically and threw her head back. Which gave me an unobstructed view of Lucian Rollins approaching from behind her. His cashmere coat flapped in the wind like some kind of vampire cape. His gaze wasn’t friendly. Especially not when it landed on me.

“Ugh. I need sex,” Sloane announced, unaware that her nemesis was nearly within earshot. “Everywhere I look, I see potential sex. Naomi has this annoying, permanent orgasmic glow, and you look like you could walk into any room and leave with a guy in under five minutes.”

“Then why aren’t you hate-banging him?” I pointed and we all turned to stare at Lucian, who looked like a model in jeans, a sweater, and a ball cap.

“Damn it! Naomi, you said he wasn’t coming!” Sloane hissed.