Page 75 of Sinister Secrets

“It’s not fine.” He twists around and grabs a large, rolled paper off the coffee table behind him.

“What’s that?”

Jake pats the couch and I push myself back up. Sitting beside me, he unrolls the scroll, spreading it across both of our laps. “This is the house we’re going to build.”

I sit, transfixed, as he describes it to me, the space, the luxury bathroom, the high-end kitchen, the guest area over the garage with its own entrance and a locking door between the two halves, ensuring our privacy. The enhanced security features.

“That sounds amazing, but expensive,” I say.

“Selling this place should be more than enough to pay for it.”

“Jake, you don’t have to—”

“I want to. Being separated from you this past week has been torture. This is the best way to ensure that doesn’t happen again. That you’re stuck with me.”

“But what about Butch’s house?”

“We’ll use it for rescues. Cats, dogs, medical space.”

“You’ve put a lot of thought into this.”

“I have.”

“But when?”

“This past week.”

I stare at him for a long moment, trying to make sense of it all. “You didn’t stay here because you were so overwhelmed with work, did you?”

His gaze drops down to the blueprints as he says, “I was busy, but no.”

I recall how rude he’d been to Chelsea yesterday. The woman hadn’t just come into our lives—she’d invaded them, constantly interrupting our alone time. Had it been a coincidence that he’d waited until the day she was supposed to be gone to come back? “There was another reason.”

“Yes.”

I think about how Jake suddenly had to leave after they spent the day alone together. How upset she’d been when she found out he had stopped by and brought me flowers. The way she half gaslit me into thinking he was the new guy she’d been seeing. “She put the moves on you, didn’t she?”

A rush of anger heats my skin as he gives a grim nod.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I should have.”

“You think?”

“I’m sorry, Cassie. She begged me not to.”

“That makes it worse, not better.”

“I know. It’s just, I felt bad for her. When I told her to leave, she gave me a big sob story. Kept apologizing and told me she thought it was what I wanted, that she’d just left an abusive boyfriend and would do anything to keep from having to go back to him. You’d told me that she needed our help and I figured that must be why, so I gave her until Friday to find somewhere else to stay and she agreed. I thought I had it handled.”

I want to kill her. Wrap my hands around her throat and—

“Plus, you handpicked her for the job.”

“What? I didn’t. You did.”

“No, I didn’t.”