Page 52 of Wicked Titan

She walks over, asking if I’d like anything else.

“I’m good. Thanks.”

Before she turns to walk away, I ask a stupid question because I know I shouldn’t be prying. “You know Detective Davis?”

“He’s my husband,” she smiles, looking to where he’d exited the café.

“Oh,” I bite the inside of my lip, debating if I should ask, but she answers for me.

“Just give him time. He has unconventional ways, but he won’t let you down.” Giving me a pat on the hand, she walks away to check on the man sitting at the counter.

I’m in no hurry to head back to Nathan’s, so I shift back in the booth, finishing the remainder of my lemonade.

If Davis can’t uncover something, I’m not sure how, or if, I will ever learn the truth.

43

My hands ache as I shut off the electric sander. A minute later, I’m still feeling phantom vibrations in my hands after I’d set it down. We have until Friday to get the project complete, and it’s already Wednesday. We would be much further along if Wade would get off his damn phone and help, but the one time he had, he’d caused more issues that in turn cost more time than it was worth. Grant and I haven’t complained since, allowing him to sit out so we can get done. It still doesn’t stop me from wanting to cram his phone down his throat though.

“I haven’t seen you around much.” Grant moves next to me, picking up the drill as we position the boards according to the drawing.

“Been busy.” Busy avoiding him and everybody else aside from Victoria.

“I’m still hanging out at Java Knox in the mornings,” he pauses while I hold the shelf in place as he drills the screw into the wood. I stand holding the shelf as he moves to the next screw. “I even buy your coffee just in case you show up.”

“I’m sure Allison would drink it.” My words blurt out before I can stop them. It’s not Grant with Allison that bugs me, it’s Allison. She’s made a point to continue making my life as miserable as possible since our run-in in the hallway.

His shoulders fall forward as he stands next to me before continuing to build the cabinet without another word, thankfully.

We finish assembling the shelf together and decide to stain it tomorrow so it will be ready just in time. I slide onto the metal stool, waiting for the last few minutes of class to pass by. Grant and Wade both have their phones out, ignoring me as I look around the classroom.

Hopefully, the next project won’t be a group assignment. If it is, I really need to see about switching groups. Wade clutches his phone in his hand as he looks up, his stunned eyes meeting mine. There’s something about the look on his face that tells me whatever is coming isn’t something good.

“What the—” Grant’s words fade out as I feel the vibration of my phone next to my hand on the table.

Holding my breath, I pick up my phone, hesitantly finding an unopened message from an unknown number.

My fingers clumsily swipe the message to the side as a picture appears on the screen. All I can do is stare at the out-of-context picture that was taken at Haley’s house on a night we’d had way too much to drink. It was just a stupid joke because everyone teased that the three of us were so close. At least, I thought it was a joke at the time. Now I’m wondering if there wasn’t something more between them as I study the picture that looks like a threesome. The fact that Haley and I have only bikinis on while Mason has on swim shorts leaves the appearance that we are naked.

The picture was only on my phone. I’d forgotten it was there because it’s been months since it was taken. The only way someone could have it was if they’d accessed it from my phone.

“Quinn,” Grant whispers.

I look up to Wade. He’d had my phone when he’d taken my keys out of my bag. Asher had my phone at the same time, or he could’ve gotten into it after I’d fallen asleep. I’d changed the passcode, but he’d gotten into it once, he could do it again. Either way, this all leads back to one person—Asher. It all leads back to him.

I jump off the stool as it falls to the floor behind me with a loud crash. Snatching my bag, I run from the judging stares.

Rushing down the hallway, I head straight to the room I know he’ll probably be in.

Swinging the door open, I see him standing to the side of the room.

He curses, barking to close the door without turning around. I slam the door shut, but he doesn’t turn to look; he’s utterly focused on the developing prints in front of him.

Squeezing my hands into fists by my sides, I stand there fuming. He still doesn’t even turn around. “I hate you.”

“Good,” he mumbles, casually shuffling something on the table in front of him.

“That’s it?” I scream, moving in front of him. I force my body between him and whatever is so important on the table. “All this just to rub it in my face that my best friend is screwing my ex?”