Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 138981 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 695(@200wpm)___ 556(@250wpm)___ 463(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138981 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 695(@200wpm)___ 556(@250wpm)___ 463(@300wpm)
“What happened?” Delilah whispers.
“About what you’d think. Celeste never came home,” I rasp out. “Just gone. Disappeared. This pretty young woman in a red dress—just like Emma Santos—and everyone saying she got sick of having to be my guardian and ran off to start a new life as somebody else. Another local boy, Grant’s best friend, Ethan Sanderson... he disappeared the same night. You can imagine the story everybody told, when Ethan didn’t make any secret that he was head over heels for my sister. The police didn’t fucking bother with a missing persons report. Still, I know the truth.” My jaw sets. “Montero Arrendell used her. Then he got rid of her when he got bored. Probably found a way to shut Ethan up, too.”
There’s a dead, awful silence when I finish.
I can practically hear the click going off for Delilah with a shuddering breath, the grim realization.
“Holy shit. So you think Montero killed her? Killed them both?”
“It’s the only explanation,” I say. “I knew Celeste, goddammit. Maybe we fought like wildcats, but she wouldn’t leave me like that, seventeen and fending for myself.”
“And Emma...”
“She fits the same profile, yeah,” I point out. I can’t look at her, staring instead at the dark-shaded front window as I hold Delilah tight. “Nice dark eyes, silky black hair. Young and full of promise. Montero’s got a type. Just like the girls who show up on Ulysses’ arm before disappearing, never to be seen in Redhaven again. Hell, not just Ulysses, but all the Arrendell boys. It’s like they’re his personal shoppers. Scouting him women who’ll play around to distract him from a wife he clearly hates. It’s gone on for a long-ass time. I’ve got newspaper clippings going back decades. Girl after girl after girl.”
There’s a long, dead silence when I stop.
One where I don’t think either of us has to point out that Delilah meets that description, too.
I feel the shudder that rolls through her as she presses against me.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispers hoarsely. “I’m sad you lost your sister that way, and with no answers, either.”
The feeling that hits rings me like a bell.
I turn my head, looking down at her, my chest seizing up.
“You saying you believe me?”
Delilah’s brows draw together.
She tilts her head back, puzzled, and suddenly I don’t want anyone looking into those starry blue-indigo eyes but me.
Not ever again.
Especially not Montero goddamned Arrendell, or any of those twisted pukes he calls sons.
“Why would you lie about anything?” she asks. Her fingers toy with my shirt, plucking at it thoughtfully. “You don’t fake that kind of hurt, Lucas. I can tell it’s cut deep. And if you say your sister wouldn’t have left you like that, you’d know better than anyone. So maybe the Arrendells had something to do with it. And maybe—”
“Maybe what?” I cut in because I can’t wait.
“Maybe they had something to do with Emma, too,” she finishes in a whisper. “It makes sense, doesn’t it? You said she fits the bill. Another beautiful young woman in a red dress. Maybe she was supposed to disappear, but something went wrong and I found her body. Or maybe she was just there to scare me and—”
“Drive you into Ulysses’ arms. Your knight in shining armor, conveniently standing by,” I finish. “All so he can deliver you up to that fuck, Montero.”
My lip curls with rage.
Biting her own lip, Delilah says, “He did invite me over for a party. Ulysses, I mean. He said his brothers are coming back soon and there’ll be some big shindig to welcome them home. He said they and their father would be delighted to see me there.”
“Damn. Doesn’t make sense, does it?” I point out. “Inviting the local schoolteacher to a family function.”
She smiles weakly. “Ulysses is acting like a boy with a bad crush. Giving me stuff I never asked for. He said the Xs on the bracelet were like the Xs in XOXO. Hugs and kisses. He claimed he didn’t even know about the X-marks.”
“About that,” I growl. “The reason I got so pissed when I saw that bracelet is because I’ve seen it before. Only that time it didn’t have any X-marks. Last time I saw it around, it was a plain rose gold bar—and it was on my sister’s wrist the night she disappeared.”
Delilah’s sweet face goes white.
“Oh my God.”
She twists to look over her shoulder. I follow her line of sight and realize she’s staring at a shelf against the living room wall, at the threshold to the hall.
The little red box sits on the third shelf, perched there like a silent curse.
My heart drums hard against my ribs.
Delilah just stares at me, her eyes too wide now.
“Jesus. It is...” she swallows. “Is it really the same one?”
“If it’s not, it’s one just like it,” I clip.