Page 5

Whiplash was the only word I could use to describe the last twenty-four hours. Especially for Gwen. She needed support, someone she could tell everything to, because apparently, she wasn’t telling Simone much of anything either.

And now she was pissed at the only person she could share everything with.

But she was right. So long as no one connected me to David’s disappearance, no one would find his body. No body, no crime.

“Okay, how about we go get something to eat after you talk to Simone?” I asked. “When was the last time you ate, anyway? I know it was late when you got here, but⁠—”

“Honestly, Sebastian?” Hand on the doorknob, she gave me a once-over. “I’m exhausted. After Simone and I talk, I need to sleep. And I don’t want to be around you right now. That look on your face a few minutes ago, that condescending, holier-than-thou bullshit—I can’t. I just can’t do it right now. I need to be alone.”

Twelve hours ago, she had said, I told Simone I wanted to be alone, but I don’t. I want to be with you.

So that hurt.

But I had misspoken. Running on fumes myself, bombarded, I lost my train of thought, and I derailed any possibility of a positive outcome to this conversation. How could I blame her for wanting some time to herself?

“That’s fair,” I said. “But just—can we talk before you do anything else?”

Dropping the doorknob, her face screwed up. “What—do you think I’m gonna hop in my car right now, track down Evan, and slit his throat in the middle of the street?”

It wouldn’t surprise me.

“We’re both sleep-deprived, a lot has happened, and I just don’t want you to do something you’ll regret.”

“See, that’s exactly what I’m talking about.” Eyes narrowed, she grabbed the handle, ripped the door open, and started down the steps. But she didn’t stop. Spoke under her breath all the way to the landing. “…treat me like an incompetent child. Bunch of bullsh⁠—”

My hands went to my hair. I grabbed fistfuls on both sides. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be a dick.”

She flipped me off over her shoulder.

A deep breath lifted my chest and formed a cloud before my face. “Can you please just call me later?”

“After we’ve both gotten some sleep, yeah.” At her driver’s-side door now, she glared up at me. “I’ll call you. But keep talking down to me, keep acting like you know everything, keep acting like I’m an idiot, and I’m hanging up.”

I didn’t think she was an idiot. I never had.

But she wasn’t the first person to tell me I came off condescending.

My shoulders fell limp at my sides. “Fair enough.”

She kept glaring as she lowered herself into the driver’s seat.

I hated this. I hated everything about it. As much as possible, I avoided confrontation, because I could never get across what I really meant. It always turned into this. Someone glaring at me as they walked away.

Gwen was the last person I could stand to glare at me, let alone watch walk away.

I needed a smidgen of resolution before she drove off.

She was just about to shut the door when I said, “I’m sorry. I love you.”

For half a heartbeat, her glare vanished. Did a smile tease the corners of her lips? It was hard to tell from the distance.

“You should be.” She slammed her door. My stomach ached for the second it took for her to turn over the engine and roll down the window. “But I love you too.”

She may have hidden her smile, but there was no hiding mine. “Drive safe.”

“Go to sleep.” She shifted the car into drive. As it rolled around the circular pathway, she called, “I don’t like you when you’re tired.”

Which was hard to argue with.