Page 120 of Manic

I nodded and watched as he drove off, facing Noah once the taillights faded. I clutched the knife, cold in my palm, and pulled my bag higher on my shoulder. My shoes padded against the thick grass, my heels sinking with every step.

My heart thundered at the sight of him. Like always.

This was our spot—the first place we’d met up. The place where he’d asked me to be his girlfriend, and where he’d said he loved me for the first time. The place where my pulse skipped and my heart swelled with anticipation. From the unknown.

Was this another first for us?

Though now, his lips were pressed to a thin line as I approached, his weight shifting from one foot to the other.

“Hey,” I breathed and leaned in for a kiss. It was light and quick, nothing like the other times we would meet. My worry resurfaced, curdling my stomach. “What did you need to talk about that couldn’t be through a text?”

I hoped the lightness in my voice would ease my concern, but Noah rubbed his neck, refusing to look at me. He stared at the water, his mouth opening before closing again. Then he dragged in a slow, deliberate breath before looking at me.

“Listen, I, um…” he started. “I wanted to tell you this before I did anything.”

My throat knotted. “What do you mean?”

“Your father is the reason mine is dead,” he blurted, and my breathing cut short. “My father built a case against Luka and his casinos, but before he could gather enough evidence, he went missing and then his body was found.”

I blinked and an uncomfortable laugh bubbled out of me. Noah’s humor was dark sometimes, so jokes like this weren’t uncommon. But when he didn’t reply, simply staring in my direction, my smile fell and a shiver of unease skated down my spine.

“Are you serious?” I laughed again, my brows pinching. “Whatever you’re thinking, it’s not true.”

“It is,” Noah clipped. “I found his file—or copies of it—when I was sixteen. I wanted answers when I came across one of his abandoned storage boxes.”

Disbelief encompassed me as his mouth moved, blood whooshing between my ears the longer his words set in. Was he really accusing my father of murder?

Noah’s father had been an investigator, though what Noah had told me before was that he’d died after a case went wrong. That was six years ago, shortly after his fifteenth birthday, and long before we started dating. But at some point, Noah had become obsessed with his father’s closed case. I’d brushed it aside, thinking it was harmless, but now…

“Okay,” I said slowly, trying to process the absurdity of his words. “So you think that whatever was in that file was enough to convict my father?”

As far as I knew, any one and everyone came after my father, so it wasn’t exactly a surprise to me that he’d been looked into if his name was mentioned in a file somewhere.

“I—well… no. I’ll show you what I have⁠—”

“No. This is ridiculous, Noah. If there was nothing in that file, what makes you think you have something substantial?”

“Because,” he hissed, turning into someone I clearly didn’t recognize. “I became a finance major at the University and applied for one of Luka’s internships to do some of my own digging.”

My stomach curdled.

“Over the last couple of years,” he continued, “I’ve been connecting the dots. I have everything I need, and I’m going to the authorities in the morning to re-open the case. Your father is an awful man, Sutton, but I wanted to tell you before I turned him in. You deserve to know.”

“The authorities? Do you realize how insane that accusation is?” I asked, my voice growing louder.

My blood boiled, my anger shooting to the surface, blinding me as I stared and stared. Noah only huffed through his nose, shaking his head as if in disbelief.

“You’re delusional,” I said.

“I’m not⁠—”

“You are,” I hissed, pointing at him. “My father might be emotionally distant and a little cruel, but he’s not a murderer. I know how much you want to discover what happened to your father, but you can’t just go to the authorities on a hunch—you would ruin our lives.”

I knew he’d been working on finding something to help his father’s case, I just didn’t think it was my family he’d be investigating on his own. Was it really my father, or did Noah need it to be?

“A hunch.” Noah actually chuckled.

The way his brows lowered had the hair rising on my arms. I was uncomfortably aware of how much he resembled the man I loved, but also didn’t. No, this wasn’t the Noah I loved. Who had I been sleeping beside for the last year?