Page 89 of The Pleasure of Panic

It’s not the words I believe in… it’s us.

His phone rings in my hand, startling me. But when I look at it, there’s no incoming call.

I squint my eyes, tabbing at the screen as it continues to ring, trying to find the call.

I look up at Finn and find a look of panic on his face.

“What the—”

But that’s when I realize the phone in my hand, his phone in my hand, is not the one that’s ringing.

And my phone is dead.

“Finn?” I ask. I look at his coat pocket and realize the ringing is coming from there.

I reach for it, but his hand on my wrist stops me before I can get my fingers inside.

“Don’t,” he says.

“What is that?” I ask. “Is that a…”

He shakes his head. “Just don’t, Issy. Not now.”

“Is that a burner phone in your pocket?”

I slap his hand away, reach inside, and pull out one of those cheap-ass phones you can buy in the checkout line at Walmart. The screen says, Blocked.

“What the fuck is this?” I say, my voice rising in pitch. “Are you still working for them? Like right now? Even after you got a second chance?”

“Issy—”

“No. Tell me,” I yell. “Tell me right fucking now. Are you still with the Mob?”

But I don’t need him to tell me. Because it’s written all over his face.

Finn Murphy is nothing but another goddamned lying man.

“Issy, please.”

I throw both phones at him. One hits the window, screen cracking, the little burner bounces off his cheek, leaving a bright red mark on his skin.

“You fucking liar.” I shake my head. “You motherfucking liar. And I almost left town with you. Were you gonna turn me in to Caleb? Was this all a game to you? Were you gonna—”

“Stop it,” he says. “Just listen to me.”

I point my finger right in his face and say, “Fuck you. Get out of my car, leave, and don’t ever contact me again.”

And then I take a deep breath, feeling a little vindicated that I figured him out before we left town and he ruined my life—but also a little sad that I fell for his charm. And his smile. And his eyes. And his dream.

But I let that breath out, open the door to the car, slam it behind me.

And walk away.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE - FINN

“Issy!”

Goddammit. I get out of the car, jog to catch up with her, and take her arm. She does some… I don’t fuckin’ know, some martial arts thing on me, and has my arm twisted behind my back as she says, “Go away. I’m done. You had every chance to tell me you were still as crooked as the tree roots in my front yard, and you didn’t.”