Page 8 of Criminally Yours

But it was the tall man with dirty blond hair standing to the side in a black suit with an earpiece that made her want to vomit again. He may be called Strike now, but the man on bodyguard duty for Hugo and his family was her first love, first kiss, and the man she’d lost her virginity to.

She glanced at the house he’d grown up in. He was Caleb before he disappeared to join the army and destroyed her life. It didn’t matter who he was now.

The photo proved he was her enemy.

The person he protected wanted her dead in the most brutal way.

A light was on in his parents’ house, and a four-by-four sat outside. They must be home. Her mum had said his parents were moving soon.

“Fuck off,” Millie cried as her phone rang again with the same mystery number. She put it on silent as she stared at it.

Her life had changed in three hours, and her only option was to fly to Sweden, where her brother Dexter lived.

She had nowhere else.

Millie eased herself out of her car. There was no movement in the suburban street. Everyone was probably watching late-night television or in bed. She needed to find her passport. She’d forgotten it after her parents had picked her up when she’d last returned from visiting Dexter.

Millie pulled the hood on her jumper up.

She listened for noises that seemed out of place, but the only sounds were cars in other parts of the neighbourhood and the wind rustling through the trees. Light pooled from the street lights, highlighting patches of grass and daffodils.

Her gaze flicked left and right as her key scratched the lock.

At the sound of little stones crunching, she turned. A black cat ran across the driveway and onto her front lawn. Benji, her childhood family dog, would have lost its shit if a cat was on its lawn.

Millie pushed into the house and used the light from her phone to sneak up the stairs. Her mum said she’d left the passport in Millie’s memory shoebox for safekeeping.

The photo on the wall of her brother, his wife, and their perfect family distracted her. The kids had grown up since her last visit.

Seeing Dexter and his family was lovely initially, but after two weeks, she’d wanted to return to the safety of her flat, where she didn’t need to speak to anyone or be told, “Here are five ways to improve yourlife, Pixie.”

Dexter meant well, but even from Sweden, “the good child” managed to communicate his disapproval of her life.

Millie crept into her room and closed the blinds. It was a museum of her teenage years.

She risked turning on her bedroom lamp. Her trembling fingers skittered across old diaries and notebooks in her bedside cabinet as she searched for the shoebox.

Holding up a diary, she froze at the scrawled words on the front:Millie and Caleb forever.She was kidding herself when she fell in love with her older, cooler best friend, believing they’d be forever.

She gritted her teeth as she shoved the diary back in the drawer.

A photo of Caleb’s smiling face slipped out. She’d saved the photo as a reminder to keep friends at a distance.

Turmoil captured her belly. He was the guy who’d made her heart flutter. He was so cute, with his off-centre smile and little beauty spot near his ear.

She hissed as she stalked around her room, searching drawers and her wardrobe for the shoebox.

A moment of inspiration hit her, and she bent down.

The glittery shoebox sat under the bed. It contained a treasure trove of teenage memories she wanted hidden.

She stood, popping it on the bed, and checked her phone for flights. The next one to Sweden would leave in under four hours. If she left right now, she’d have time to get to the airport.

At the sound of a squeaking door, she froze.

A body pressed against her, and a hand covered her mouth. Her phone careened out of her grip, slamming into the corner of her bed frame before hitting the floor.

“Don’t fucking move,” a deep voice growled.