I’m not okay. How can I be? I let my guard down, and now I no longer face losing a friend or the man I’m crushing on.
I face losing the man I love.
I catch his lips with mine, the kiss slow and gentle. “I’m okay now,” I lie. This isn’t the time to voice my truths. Not today. Not like this, but soon. He needs to know, process, and decide what he wants to do with me next.
He helps me get dressed despite my protests. Now that he’s here, the paralyzingly cold thoughts give way, making it easier to hold the gruesomewhat-ifsatbay, stopping them from feasting on my conscious mind.
The wail of police sirens outside grows closer by the second until the engine dies.
“Don’t move. I’ll be right back,” Theo says when loud banging shakes the door.
It’s the first time I see Shawn in full police uniform, a gun in his holster, and dark shades pushed back into his thick hair. He’s shorter than Theo and not as broad, but the resemblance is there like with all the Hayes.
“Hey, babe, how are you holding up?” He rounds the couch, crouching before me. “You scared the shit out of Theo. And me too.”
“I’m fine. I just... I don’t know. I panicked.”
“I’d panic too if someone who shouldn’t be there was in my house.” He gets up, glancing at Theo. “Show me what I’m dealing with, bro. The forensic team is on its way.”
They turn around, disappearing into the hallway. I move to the kitchen to pour myself a glass of water, the last thirty minutes surreal, to say the least. The note that was pushed under the bathroom door lies on the coffee table. I unroll it carefully, touching only the corner, then use the remote control and my phone to weigh down the edges. Words are printed in dark red ink, the font a fancy script.
You had a chance, and you blew it. Time to play.
I read it three times, understanding less and less with every pass as the ideas form and morph in my head.
“You shouldn’t have touched that.” Shawn plops down beside me. “Sounds like you hurt someone’s ego, babe. Who did you shoot down recently?”
Theo slumps down beside me, leaning in to read the short note, a frown on his forehead. “I’m going to fucking kill him.”
“Ah, so you know who it is?” Shawn asks.
I shake my head, not sure who Theo might be suspecting. “I have no idea.”
“No idea?” Theo fumes, raking his hand through the hair on the back of his head. “Dean Striker.”
“You think Dean broke into your house? Don’t be ridiculous!” I whisper-shout.
“Who else could it be? Dean sent you flowers, Thalia. Red roses just like the ones in the bedroom. He was pissed off when he realized he won’t get another chance with you, and this,” he points at the note, “that’s a threat.”
“When was that?” Shawn asks, pulling a notepad out of his vest pocket.
“After theUnexpected Truthparty at Nico’s. I almost broke his jaw at Nico’s restaurant last week.”
I shake my head, unease squirming like a bucketful of earthworms in my stomach. “I don’t think it was Dean. He’s a decent guy. I can’t imagine him beheading a teddy. What about Asher? He surely holds a grudge against me.”
Theo tightens his hold around me, the muscles in his arms and shoulders tense. “It was Dean,omorfiá. I just know it. And sure, he’s very fucking nice. He basically called you a slut, but he’s a good boy.”
Shawn scribbles in his notepad. “I’ll check them both. I need you to walk me through the day, Thalia. When did you see the bedroom untouched last?”
“I cleaned the house all day. Windows were open. I finished around three, closed the windows, and grabbed fresh clothes from the bedroom before taking a bath. I was supposed to close the window there too, but I forgot.”
“How long were you in the bath?”
“Forty, maybe fifty minutes.”
Theo pulls his phone out, flicking through the call log. “She called me at ten past four.”
“Call it an hour. Ten past three to ten past four,” Shawn says. “Did you hear or see anything?”