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I WAKE TO THE feeling of someone shaking me lightly. The bed sinks beside me, and I open my eyes to find Easton smiling softly down at me. He pushes my hair out of my face and tucks it behind my ear.
“Hey,” he practically whispers. “There's pizza downstairs. You hungry?”
I hum. “Not really. I'd kind of rather just sleep.”
“Okay.” He puts a hand on my head to check my temp. “You feel okay, right?”
“Yeah,” I assure him.
“All right. I'll be downstairs if you need anything.” Bending down to my belly, he speaks lowly. “Love you, little man.”
It's a simple gesture, one he probably didn't even do for my benefit, but it makes me melt all the same. He walks out of the room and closes the door behind him, leaving me alone to go back to sleep.
I toss and turn in the bed. Heartburn plagues my chest and makes it difficult to get comfortable again. When it finally becomes too much, at a point where I feel like I may very well throw up, I remember that Easton usually keeps Tums in his nightstand.
The whole thing is a mess as I open it and look inside. It's as if everything he doesn't know what to do with gets tossed in here. There are pens, condoms, an old wallet. I push things to the side and finally spot them. As I lift the bottle up, however, my heart sinks.
A tiny baggie filled with white powder sits at the bottom of the drawer, hidden beneath a pile of junk. It doesn't take an expert in drugs to know what it is, nor what it's doing here.
I flushed it, baggie and all.
My chest tightens as I realize he lied, and in an instant, I'm rushing to the bathroom and heaving the contents of my stomach into it. When I'm done, time feels like it's stopped, and everything stands still.
Why does he still have it?
Why did he lie?
And most importantly, what else is he lying about?
I pace back and forth across the room, trying to hold myself together. Part of me wants to go downstairs and demand the truth, but what good would that do? We all believed him when he said he got rid of it.
No.
We need someone who can get through to him.
Someone who doesn't love him enough to let him get away with murder.
I grab my phone from the nightstand and call Tye. My hand shakes as I hold the device to my ear, and when she finally answers, I say the words I never thought would come out of my mouth.
“I need you to send me Tessa's phone number.”
