Page 168 of Secret Obsession
“So we know he drives a truck,” Miles concludes. “And he’s looking for his brother, clearly, so he doesn’t know he’s dead.”
Never thought I’d say it, but I’m glad they didn’t put the body somewhere easily found. Like planting it elsewhere for the police to find.
“Where is he?” I ask, my stomach swooping.
I don’t want to know. I’ve never wanted to know. Minus the meat freezer photo Miles showed me, which I’ve got to assume has now been deleted for our own sake, I didn’t ask any questions.
That would only make me an accomplice.
“This guy’s been trying to find his brother for weeks,” Miles muses. He’s got his hand on my thigh, drawing a nonsense pattern with his finger. “How did he get to your apartment? So close after…”
I think back. “He was dancing with me at Prime. Is there security footage?”
Knox frowns and pulls out his phone. He dials, the phone connected to Bluetooth in the car, and it rings twice before Greyson answers.
“What’s up?”
“What do you know about Prime’s owner?” Knox asks. He fills their car in on what we’ve been discussing.
“Nothing,” Greyson answers. “Vi?”
“No,” she echoes. “Just that it opened somewhat recently.”
“Did you see any cameras in there? Security apart from the bouncer out front?”
“They scan IDs,” Aspen says. “Not everyone, but some nights. Do they keep a record?”
“Probably,” I reply. “I think they were scanning IDs the night I was there.”
Miles shifts forward, two lines forming between his brows. “O’Brien. When does your family return?”
“In a few days,” Steele replies. “So whatever you want to do, we need to do it soon.”
I meet Miles’ gaze in the dark. He’s worried. Maybe not outright, but enough to worryme, too. A shiver goes up my spine.
All of this is my fault.
When I close my eyes, I see Miles yanking the knife out of the guy’s neck.
But it wasn’t just me—they all had a part to play. Only Violet and Aspen are innocent, and I want to keep it that way.
“We should go now,” I mouth to him.
He nods once. “Let’s stop at the next rest stop. Switch cars.”
That’s exactly what we do—except when I think I’m going with Miles, he pushes me back toward the rental. “Go with the girls, baby. We’ll take care of this.”
I plant my hands on my hips. “Seriously?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No, you asshole. You got me into this—”
“Me?” Miles laughs. “You got yourself into this, wild girl. I got yououtof it—”
