Page 27 of Half Truths (Secret Society 1)
I kept fast-forwarding. Shortly after, the door to the emergency exit by my apartment opened and two people wearing black cloaks walked out. I gasped, holding my hand over my rapidly beating heart. They were both carrying one box each. Boxes that clearly said Lincoln on them. Boxes that I was positive they were about to drop off by the door. One of them took a key out and unlocked my door. They both walked back out not even five seconds later, still cloaked, but with no boxes.
“Can I get footage for this same day and time in the lobby?” I asked Gary.
“Sure, let me check.”
He disappeared and reappeared again quickly, with another USB drive. He set that one beside me. I fast forwarded through the entire thing until I got to that date and time and waited. People were in and out, in and out, none wearing cloaks. What the hell? I searched for someone I would recognize, but that didn’t work either. I saw the girl with the short curly hair that had been arguing with Logan upstairs, but she was dressed normally, in jeans and a sweater. No cloak. I sighed, leaning back in the seat and rubbing my face.
“I need a locksmith to come and change the locks to my apartment,” I told Gary.
“Of course. I’m on it,” he said. “Anything else?”
“No.”
“Will you be up there? You need to get some rest, Miss. Bastón. You have bags under your eyes.”
“I know. I know.” I shut my eyes.
I was so incredibly tired. I thought of Logan, who had offered if I needed anything and said I could go to his apartment. Would it be weird if I went there and just slept? Maybe. I was doing it anyway. I stood, thanked Gary, and headed back up. When I got to my floor, I knocked on Logan’s door, softly at first, and then louder. He opened, shirtless, with a toothbrush sticking out of his mouth. He frowned.
“Amelia?” he said around the toothbrush.
It was the first time he’d ever sounded ridiculous. He looked ridiculous, albeit hot as fuck, with his hair sticking up everywhere and those grey sweatpants that clung low on his hips.
“I’m tired. I need a bed. Or a couch. Or the floor. I don’t care,” I said. He jogged over to the kitchen sink and spit, turning on the water. I made a face as I walked in. “That is disgusting.”
“What’s wrong with your bed, or couch, or floor?”
“It’s been compromised. I’m having a locksmith change the locks but I can’t keep my eyes open. I feel like I’m going to—”
“My bed is empty,” he said, walking over to his bedroom.
We had a similar layout, but my view was better, and I had two bedrooms, where he only had one. Same kitchen and living room though. His walls were dark gray, where mine were white. He had posters on the walls of different movies. His bedroom walls were bare, except for a shelf that seemed to go across the entire room and was filled with trophies and medals. He must have brought every single momentum they’d given him since birth. I must have said that aloud, because he chuckled.
“It keeps me working harder.”
“Oh. Wow.” I blinked hard, yawning. “It would make me want to quit.”
He chuckled again. “There’s the bed. Obviously. Don’t worry, I don’t do dirty things on it, so you’re safe.”
“What?” I frowned, then blinked fast. “Oh. Oh. I hadn’t even considered that.”
“It’s a germ-free zone. Well, my germs are on it, but you’ll have to live with that.”
“Sure.” I waved him off as I kicked off my slides and climbed into bed. “Holy crap this is comfortable.”
“Thanks.”
“Really comfortable.” I snuggled into the pillow, pulling the sheets tighter to my chin. “It smells like you.”
“I’m going to the gym,” he said. “I’ll be back in an hour and a half. You’ll be fine?”
“I’ll be sleeping.” I yawned again. “Thanks, Logan.”
“Any time, Amelia.”
With that, I shut my eyes and fell asleep.
Chapter Ten
Logan
“I can’t just keep her in the dark about her own brother.” I lift the bar up and set it on the stand.
“So don’t.” Nolan wipes the sweat off his face, standing over me as he spots me. “Just tell her.”
“That’s against the rules, asshole. I’m not forfeiting my money or future for her. I’m just saying, I feel kind of bad.”
“Since when do you feel bad? You treat girls like they’re disposable.”
I sat up quickly, glaring at him. “I don’t treat anyone like they’re disposable.”
“Mandy was crying the other night because you didn’t invite her back to your place.”
“Please.” I rolled my eyes. “Not fucking someone hardly constitutes as treating them like they’re disposable.”
“Do you like her?” He started working on biceps with the free weights. “Mae, I mean.”
“I think she’s interesting.”
“Since when do you think girls you aren’t fucking are interesting?”
