Page 21 of Saving Wyatt

None other than the resident genius, Slade.

"I've got someone in mind."

Camille nodded and instructed me on further actions as I walked her to her car.

"Is it me, or did Dakota sound like he was trying to help us?"

Camille grimaced. "Maybe, but I wouldn't trust him. I wouldn't trust anyone, least of all the police who had a dirty cop and did nothing about it for months."

I sighed and put my hands in my pockets. "You're right," I said.

Yet I couldn't stop thinking about the interaction back there.

Was Dakota really trying to help, or had Salieri gotten to him too, like he had to Detective Bennet? Had this all been a charade or a typical good-cop-bad-cop scenario?

Maybe I was just seeing enemies everywhere, but that was because they were. Everywhere. Even among friends.

EIGHT

ARI

“Are you going to tell me where you were yesterday? Or are you going to take it to your grave?” I asked Warren as soon as we sat down with some pizza and beer.

It had been a really busy day at the outreach van, and I needed to unwind. If only I didn’t have my stupid friend to worry about.

“I told you, it was nothing. My battery dropped, so I couldn't message you to tell you I was going to be out," he replied.

"Hmm," I said, and stared closer at him.

Considering most phones used the same charger nowadays and the world was full of outlets, that sounded a lot like bullshit.

What was he hiding from me and why didn't he want to tell me? It wasn't like him to keep secrets. He had always shared about his conquests and his one-night stands, though never in excruciating detail. I didn't need to know the ins and outs of a straight situationship, but he had never been like this before. I wondered what the hell he was doing that he didn't feel like sharing with his best friend.

“I'll talk about it when I'm ready. Why are you so pressed?” Warren asked.

I shook my head and took a bite of my four-cheese pizza, sighing.

I didn't know why I cared. It wasn't as if I’d been fully honest with him either. It wasn't as if I shared everything with him. Like a certain silver fox he was related to.

Gosh, what was it about Wyatt Goodman that I couldn't take my mind off him? Every waking moment, every second I spent not doing anything physically, my mind drifted to the handsome man who looked at me as if he wanted me.

No.

As if he needed me.

I couldn't be thinking like that. My heart wasn't available; it couldn't be. I'd spent so long in solitude, committed to Evan’s memory, that I'd never allowed myself to even flirt with the idea of being with another man. I had never even been tempted.

And yet now, all this time later, I managed to feel something, and it was for my best friend's brother. Yeah, maybe it was best if Warren didn't tell me where he was yesterday and the night before, because then it would mean I would have to tell him my secret.

“I’m not pressed. I just worry about you. You know I’m a worrier.”

He put his hand on top of mine and patted it a couple of times with casual comfort that had become so commonplace between us since Evan died.

“You don’t need to worry about me. You know I can take care of myself,” he said.

I rolled my eyes. “Isn’t that what your brother always says, and it annoys the hell out of you?” He nodded. “Where did that get him?”

Warren pulled back and glared at the table for a moment. “You do have a point.”