Page 20 of Bells
I shoved the crushed flowers into my jacket and headed back towards the bike I’d left parked on one of the footpaths. Threw my leg over the side and started her up, weaving between a fewheadstones and metal plaques before making my way onto the road.
I used to visit Allie weekly. Daily when her death was still fresh and her body was still rotting. Now she was a box of bones, and I was lucky if I got out here once a month. My relationship with my sister had always been complicated, though. We were closer with one of us dead than we ever were with both of us alive.
I couldn’t see shit. But I couldn’t chance turning on the lights and getting caught snooping through Vee’s desk. I moved a couple of files aside and started tugging open each of the drawers.
I never really cared to question what Vee was hiding in here. We all had things we’d rather not share with the rest of the group. Like the fact I fucked the guy I killed last night. And the fact Gabby hid half her income in a duffle bag under a loose floorboardshe didn’t know I knew about.
Allie had given me the idea to come here.
Okay, more like me thinking about her had given me the idea. Allie herself couldn’t give me anything but dirt. The specifics weren’t important. Point was, I’d forgotten how much my big sister liked to snoop through that old rich guy’s house.
Usually, she was looking for liquor or jewelry or drugs. Occasionally, she found blackmail. Secrets Mama’s boss didn’t want anyone else to know about. Affairs, illegitimate children, foreign bank accounts. And Alls would use it to her advantage.Playing both smart and dumb as she tried to climb her way out of poverty. She climbed her way into an early grave instead.
That rich old guy had a desk just like this one, back in that fancy mansion of his. With a bunch of drawers and—I felt around until my fingers skimmed a metal lever—a false bottom.
A notebook plopped into my hands, at the same time the office lights flicked on. I stuffed the book into the front of my shirt, crawled under the desk, and scooted myself as close to the one corner as I could get without knocking the chair back. Then I watched a pair of black heels and ankle-length slacks cross the room, stopping short and turning as the person attached to the other end of them appeared to glance around. Pivot and walk back out again.
I was well aware I was too old to be hiding under a desk like some teenager in a cringy horror movie. I was also young enough to want to avoid getting yelled at by my surrogate mother.
When I was as sure as I could be that the coast was clear, I crawled back out, careful to leave everything (except for the notebook) exactly how I’d left it. I made it three steps outside Vee’s door before a hand was landing on my shoulder and spinning me around.
“Thought I’d find you here.”
My eyes dropped down to the shoes and pants before flicking back up to Gabby’s face.
“What do you got there?” She extended a finger and poked at the noticeable bulge in my shirt.
I rolled my eyes and pulled the notebook out before turning to a random page. “I… I think it’s Vee’s diary.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
BELLATRIX
“Seems like an invasion of privacy.” Gabby glanced from me to the notebook I’d tossed between us on the bed. The damn thing was taunting me. The pages fluttering whenever the little fan in the corner did another rotation. I didn’t need it this time of year, but I liked the white noise it created in a static room.
Gabby leaned forward to get a closer look. Her legs pretzeled out in front of her, her elbows resting on her thighs, and her long red hair draped over her shoulders. Her dark, thick lashes shadowed her eyes every time her gaze flicked back down to the book. Which was often.
She was relaxed right now. At least her clothes and makeup were. It reminded me of when we were kids, when Gabby wasn’t so done up and unapproachable. But that was her armor as much as my guns and knives were for me.
I quirked a challenging brow at her. “You’re not even a little curious?”
We both knew she was. Gabby hated not knowing something. It was part of the job. In order to prepare for every reasonableoutcome, you had to know what possibilities were floating around like the dust particles coming off the front cover.
I waved a hand to knock them away.
“Of course I am,” she huffed, throwing her arms in the air, causing the mattress to creak. “But this isn’t like us listening in on business calls or tailing her when she refuses to tell us where she’s going in the middle of the night. We aren’t looking out for her or making sure she has backup if she needs it. We’re snooping through her private thoughts. Things she probably doesn’t want anyone else knowing.”
“If you don’t want someone else knowing something, you don’t write it down,” I countered. “Besides, you know damn well she would read it if it were one of us hiding a secret journal.”
“Only to make sure we were okay…”
“And that’s exactly what we’re doing too,” I explained. “Making sure Vee isn’t dealing with some heavy shit on her own.”
“Really? Because that thing looks old as hell.” Gabby pointed a white-tipped nail at the notebook. “It’s been collecting dust for years.”
“Doesn’t make it any less heavy. Just means she’s been carrying it around longer.”
Both our glares shot to the locked door. Vee was out. She wouldn’t be back for a few hours yet. Still, it felt like she was somehow watching us from afar.
