“Atlas, you still listening?”Sloane huffed out the words.Probably because she was, in fact, running through the airport.
“I’m here.”
“If you hurt her, I will make your recent trip to that basement look like a luxury vacation.”
She hung up.
His brows rose.“Your friend just threatened to kidnap me…and kill me?”
“She was vague.I don’t know if she meant that, specifically.”Though I suspect that is exactly what Sloane meant.Specifically.
“I missed the first part of your conversation.”
He had.“Because you were busy reading my diary.”She had a death grip on the phone.Lily forced her fingers to relax.“Did you wait until I went to sleep before you grabbed it?”
A slow, negative shake of his head.“It was on the floor, Lily.I swear it.It was open when I picked it up.”
“I left it under the mattress.”Not on the floor.Tucked securely beneath the top mattress.
“I did not read it.”
She stared hard at him.A muscle flexed along his jaw.Trust had been one of her rules.She’d told him that she wouldn’t fuck him unless she trusted him.
She’d fucked him twice during the night.
And…
“I believe you.”She did.Though that did create another problem.
One problem at a time, Lily.One at a time.
“It’s not secure under a mattress.”He stood before her with the jeans hanging low on his hips.Looking sexy and disheveled, and she swore she smelled mint.The man brushed his teeth.First thing in the morning—yeah, that was a win.
Him being all shirtless and strong—another win.
Someone finding her diary?Not a win.
“I have a safe in my bedroom.I can put it in there for you,” Atlas offered.
She nodded.“Yes, you can do that…after you read it.”
“Lily?”His lashes flickered.
“Read it whenever you want.You may not have time to read it now.”Probably would not, now that she considered things.“I do think you need to know the part of the conversation that you missed.”
His broad shoulders were tense as he waited.
“A woman was killed last night,” Lily informed him.“Sloane saw a news story about her death.The victim was someone on my list.”
“Your list?”
“Tonya Johnson.”Their victim.“Her father was a serial killer.”
His stare sharpened on her.
But…
Footsteps.Racing up the stairs.More like thundering up them.
