Page 1 of Filthy Little Lies

CHAPTER 1

Savvy

The feeling in the pit of my stomach, like it’s chewing on its own lining, should be enough of a warning to stop me. But seeing as I have everything to lose by not going forward with this harebrained plan, I climb out of my car and walk to the Lakeside Pawn Shop.

A cloud, heavy with the rain that’s been threatening all day, covers the last bit of the sun as I move forward, casting the street into ominous shadow.

Another warning that I’m going to ignore.

Pausing just long enough to take a breath and find my bravery, I yank open the door. A soft beep signals my entry and a man, of medium height and square of shoulder, wearing a black collared polo shirt with the pawn shop’s emblem and his name, Bob, embroidered on the chest, steps out of the back room.

“Hello.” My voice squeaks when I greet him, and I clear my throat. “Sorry. A little tickle.” I tap my chest.

He eyes me silently.

I could pretend to shop the store a little first, but the sooner I get this over with the sooner my problems will be over.

“I’d like to sell something.” I pull my bag in front of me, hugging it to my chest.

“All right,” he says, pressing his hands onto the glass display case and nods toward my bag. “Whatcha got?”

My fingers tremble as I open my bag and feel inside for the leather pouch tucked into the inside pocket. I manage to settle the shaking enough to open the drawstring and pour out the contents into my palm.

Diamonds.

His eyebrows shoot up as he takes in the glittering jewels in my hand.

“Where’d you get these?” He pulls out a black pad and drops it onto the counter, tapping it with two fingers. I assume he wants me to lay the diamonds on it, so I tip my hand and let them slide off.

One rolls off the pad and onto the glass countertop. I hold my breath, waiting for him to react. High-valued diamonds have a particular clink when they fall; that little bauble had more of a thunk than a clink. If he knows his jewels, he’ll notice it right away.

“Seven.” He picks up the runaway gem and tosses it back with the others.

My heart stops when he turns to the work area behind him and digs around the top drawer.

A soft beep signals the front door opening, and I look over my shoulder toward the sound.

My heart leaves skid marks as it comes to a dead stop.

A man in his mid-thirties with thick black hair brushed away from his face walks in. From the height strip taped to the door frame, he’s six-three.

I didn’t even know that was a real height. I thought it was just a height used in my smutty romance novels.

Though only hitting five-three, myself, even if he cut off a few inches, he’d still be a giant compared to me.

He’s wearing a black leather jacket, even though it’s nearly eighty-five degrees and humid today, and a dark gray button up. As he moves into the store, I’m able to make out his jeans and black boots, and an entirely different part of my body reacts.

Down girl. He’s not for you. You’re here for cash, that’s it.

The guy behind the cabinet stops digging and glances over his shoulder. He freezes, drops whatever he’s holding, and spins around.

“Hey, boss.”

The man in the leather jacket lifts up the counter pass and steps behind it. Once on the other side, he notices me.

I wish he hadn’t.

His eyes narrow as they sweep over me. I’ve never seen anything so beautiful and terrifying in my twenty-five years. He has a cropped beard dusting his strong jawline, framing full lips.