Page 49 of Dirty Deadly & Mine
I reached out to Steve from Hedgwick Auto Repairs and asked if he was the one who hooked Asher up with the fights. Steve couldn’t lie. I told him it was fine, but if Asher gets seriously hurt, I’ll be coming for him.
When I came home a few nights ago to find that slag in my house with Asher, I’d just returned from spending two hours on a call with Barrett looking into info about the MacKenzie brothers and discussing the latest anonymous text message I’d received.
I usually take the calls at home, especially after the twins moved on campus, but since I didn’t know if Asher would be around, and I couldn’t risk him overhearing, I went to the warehouse instead.
I can’t explain my reaction when I came home that night to find a barely dressed girl pressed up close to Asher. It shouldn’t have mattered. Asher and I aren’t a thing, and I’d told him to date other girls, yet seeing her touch him, the way she looked at him like she wanted to pull his dick out right there in my kitchen made me furious.
And jealous.
But mostly furious.
Then I made the mistake of letting my emotions rule me, and I basically told Asher I didn’t want him fucking her in my house.
He knew exactly what he was doing, though. He’d seemed bored when he looked at the girl, but when his eyes fell on me, well, it was much the same way that the girl looked at him.
It was a weak moment on my part, so avoiding Asher is the best option until I can get my shit together.
Saturdays in the salon are usually rushed since we close at one in the afternoon, but the wedding styles come together well, and the atmosphere is fun and light for most of the morning.
I should’ve known it would be short-lived.
Ducking out into the back room, I drink down a glass of water and check my phone, hoping Barrett has sent through some information on the MacKenzie brothers, but instead, I find another message from the anonymous number.
UNKNOWN: Lilian Mae Tipping is the name on your entry passport. Why did you lie about your name, Lily? Was it because a Marx wouldn’t be let into the country?
I’m beginning to think my cousin is right about this being a different person than the one sending me pictures.
Those pictures are basically calling me out on being the Crimson Angel. The text messages are calling me out on being a Marx.
No one should know that. I entered the country with a fake passport, and when I had to stay, I reached out to Barrett to help me secure more fake documents so I could change my identity and hide.
That’s why he’s the only one that’s known where I’ve been all this time, and his connections are solid, so there should be no way someone could have linked me to the Marx family… well, I guess we do live in the age of technology, so there are probably ways of doing that now.
Maybe facial rec?
Reading over the message again and deciding I’ve had enough of ignoring whoever this is, I decide to respond.
We can’t seem to track the number, so my only other option is trying to get information from whoever it is.
LILY: I’m sorry. I don’t know who that is. I think you have the wrong number.
Instantly, dots appear, and my heart flips in my chest as I wait for a response, and the moment it appears, the back and forth begins.
UNKNOWN: Tut. Tut, Lily. You can’t lie to me. I know everything about you and your family.
LILY: Not that I know what you’re talking about, but why don’t you enlighten me?
UNKNOWN: You sure you want that information put in a message? That’s kind of dangerous… unless you don’t care what happens to your family back in Australia.
LILY: What exactly do you want?
UNKNOWN: I thought that was obvious. I want your family to pay.
LILY: I don’t have anything to do with my family, so threatening me won’t work.
UNKNOWN: Who said anything about threatening you? I’m counting on your fallout with your family to work in my favour.
My brows shoot up at that, intriguing me even more. This person knows about my fallout, so do they want me to work with them?
