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He raises a hand to jab me in the chest with a finger but thinks better of it, closes it into a fist, and drops it down to his side. “Does she know about your past?”
I nod. “She does.”
“Then you didn’t tell her the full truth.”
I laugh quietly. “Oh, I did. She knows everything.”
His eyes narrow. “Then she’s a fool.”
I flex my jaw. “Why don’t you go back to the pig pen and look into what she gave you.”
“Yeah,” he nearly growls. “I’ll do that.”
He turns on his booted heel and strides back to his car. More like waddles. While his stepbrother loses the weight, he seems to be gaining it.
“Smith,” I bark. He pauses in his step. “Don’t bury this like you bury everything else.”
Without looking back at me, he raises a hand over his head and gives me the middle finger. I get a little satisfaction out of that too because I’m not a little boy anymore. He can’t sweep it under the rug, hide it from the light. He knows I’ll come after him if he does, consequences be damned, because, like last time, I won’t let someone I care about be hurt. Not in any way.
Chapter 22
Tegan Adams
I trylike hell not to bite my nails as I wait for Cole to come back inside. This is it. I could have solved a murder. Time will tell, I suppose, because Sheriff Smith is right. I’m not a detective, but I know that they’ll look into it. Even the sheriff can’t deny the mounting evidence against Derek. The only problem is, if he’s caught red-handed, I don’t know what happens to me. To Cole. I could have doomed us both, but honestly, I had no choice.
I won’t let Neil’s death be in total vain because I don’t want my boyfriend to lose his job, his house, and his basic livelihood. What kind of person would that make me? One I wouldn’t like.
The door opens, and Cole steps through. His expression is blank, and I pull at my fingers until the door shuts behind him. “What did he want?”
Cole shakes his head a little, but I note the tiniest bit ofhumor on his face. I frown at it as he says, “He told me to stay away from you.”
He travels around the couch and takes a seat. I follow him, slowly sitting down directly beside him. “What? Why?”
The small smile is still there when he turns his head to look me in the eyes. “He thinks I’m corrupting you. That I’m putting these ideas in your head about his dead brother.”
My frown deepens. “You aren’t corrupting me.”
Raising his arm, he rests it against the back of the couch and toys with the ends of my hair. “I know.”
I lean my head back a little, enjoying the feeling of my hair being played with. My eyelids flutter when his hand moves to my scalp and massages the roots of my hair. “What else was said?”
He leans and tugs the shoulder of my shirt to bare my shoulder. Gently, he presses a kiss and murmurs against my skin, “I told him not to bury the evidence like he did for my sister.”
A small sigh escapes me as he moves further up my shoulder. “Sometime, I’d like to meet your sister.”
He freezes for a moment before moving to my neck. I tip my head to the side, and as soon as he nips, my nipples pebble. “She’s dead. You can’t meet her.”
“I have proof that there is life beyond the grave,” I breathe out. What he’s doing to me is lighting me on fire. My entire body is hyper-aware of every single little touch.
“Mmm,” he hums against my skin.
“She’d know we were there,” I whisper while his lips brush against my jaw.
“Mmm,” he hums again. “Sweetheart?”
Instantly, I’m aware and alert because, every time he uses that nickname, I usually cum shortly after. “What?”
“Lie down,” he orders softly into my ear.
