“First thing we need to do is get your phone back,” Lys said. “You can text everyone you need to stop them worrying. That should buy us a few days at least while we figure out what to do.” She put her hand on Ian’s ankle again. “I know we’re asking you to lie to the people you care about, but for now it’s the best way. Is that okay?”
Ian nodded, and Jesse wanted to reach over and hug her tight.
Realistically, they could just take Ian’s phone—if Peter had managed to unlock it by now—and send the messages themselves, but Jesse loved her for asking him first. She also hadn’t mentioned that in the end, Ian was going to have to tell a huge lie to those people anyway because his old life was over. Jesse didn’t mention it either.
“Right.” Lys pulled out her own phone. “Let’s summon the beast.”
PETER WALKED INTO Jesse’s room, eyebrows rising at the sight of the discarded blood bags on the bedside table. “Someone’s still hungry, I see.” His gaze lingered on Ian in such a way that Jesse’s fangs ached in his jaw, the urge to let them come out and threaten Peter hard to ignore.
“Did you bring them?” Jesse demanded, getting straight to the point.
Peter rolled his eyes but reached into his pocket and drew out two phones. “Yes, of course.” He tossed them onto the bed, and Jesse didn’t miss the dark look that flashed across his face. “And obviously I haven’t touched them.”
Jesse scoffed. “Of course not.”
“Turns out fingerprint protection is a bitch to get past. In hindsight I should’ve got you to unlock your phone before leaving you to die.” He smiled, smug and irritating. “Luckily you’re both as predictable as fuck with your passwords.”
Jesse glared at him, rage simmering just below the surface. His password was Callum’s date of birth, and the thought of Peter knowing that felt so wrong, like it somehow tarnished his memory. He snatched up both phones from the bed, passing Ian’s to him before unlocking his own.
He knew before he even got to them that Peter would’ve deleted the photo and text that implicated him in Ian’s death. But seeing the evidence for himself still drew a curse out of him.
“You knew I couldn’t leave it there,” Peter said softly. “I deleted it from your cloud too, in case you were wondering.”
Jesse sorely wished he’d listened to Lys and backed up his stuff elsewhere like she’d suggested. He’d never bothered because he’d never had anything he desperately wanted to keep before.
Turning to Ian, Peter said, “I left your messages intact because there’s nothing incriminating on there, and the police will be able to access your data phone records easily enough. The only connections in there are to Jesse, not me. And the fact that Cate was the last one to text you will keep the police busy for a while. Especially since they’ll find she deleted hers.”
They knew all this already, but coming from Peter, it seemed to rub everyone the wrong way.
“You’re going to get her arrested,” Ian spat. “I should text her now and tell her everything.” But Peter struck like a cobra, snatching the phone out of Ian’s hands in the blink of an eye.
“Don’t,” he hissed. “The police won’t question her for long. She has a pretty tight alibi after all, but it’ll buy us more time and we need all the time we can get to try and sort this mess out.” He handed the phone back to Ian. “And if you need a little more incentive, how about I’ll kill her if you do?”
“Peter!” Jesse whisper-yelled, arm reaching out to block Ian as he went to lurch off the bed.
Peter laughed and raised his hands. “I’m kidding. Wow, can no one take a joke?”
Lys sneered at him. “You’re such a sick fuck sometimes.”
He grinned at her and shrugged.
Not for the first time, Jesse looked at him and wondered just how Peter saw this playing out. How did he think he was going to come out of this whole fucking mess unscathed? In that moment he wanted to tug Ian to his side to keep him safe and throw Peter out, but he couldn’t. They needed to keep Peter on their side—as much as he ever was—for now, and keep him where they could see him.
Even if the sight of him made Jesse’s skin crawl.
Ian looked at his phone, screen open to the text exchange he’d had with Cate. After a few seconds of hesitation, he closed the app without sending anything.
Peter’s smug smile was almost too much for him to bear.
“They can trace my phone,” Ian repeated.
“While they’re not looking for you, we should take advantage of it.” Lys smiled at him encouragingly, probably trying to take his mind off Peter. “Send the texts.”
All three of them watched while Ian sent a text to his work. “I’ve told them I’m too ill to drive—throwing up, et cetera. That should give me a few days.” He set it down on his lap. “It’s too early to text Cate. I’ll do it later.”
A kind of awkward silence settled between them.
Ian yawned, breaking the building tension, and looked so startled by it that Jesse couldn’t help but smile.
