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“Call Nova.” I pull onto Biscayne and repeat the command with more force when voice recognition doesn’t pick up my first try. Another call beeps through as Nova’s line rings.Unlisted.
My right thumb taps the gear shift, impatient. “Keep calling, jackass. I’m not answering again.” I can’t believe I picked up without checking the Caller ID. I was expecting—
“Hey, Hotshot. Couldn’t wait for me to call you today?” Nova’s cheerful tone wrenches my heart like a sponge. I picture her sitting in her little cubby at work, the black pencil skirt she wore today hiked up so she can tuck one leg beneath her the way she does when she’s sitting at her desk for long periods. Her sexy heels rest beside her red-painted toes. God, I need her.
“Someone knows.” I swallow the sting of bile coating my throat. “About Tara. Someone knows.”
My panic hangs in the silence for one beat.
“Dev? Who knows what? Are you okay? You sound—”
“A reporter called me, Nova. He said he’s doing a story about my history with Tara.” Cursing, I skid to a stop, nearly slamming into the last vehicle in a string of cars at the red light.
“What in the—” Nova’s inhale is sharp. “Are you driving?”
I struggle to maintain steady breaths. “He keeps calling. He—”
“Okay. Okay.” Her tone is level and professional like she’s used to dealing with emergencies. “Listen to me. Don’t answer the calls. Go home. I’m on my way.”
On auto-pilot, I follow the cars in front of me.
“Dev, baby? Are you there? Devin, you can’t zone out behind the wheel. Answer me!”
“Yeah.” Her hissed whisper snaps me in place. “Yeah. I’m fine. I’m almost at your building.”
“Please stay with me. We’ll figure this out. Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe your name came up in some old report.”
Maybe. Or what if? I make the turn into Nova’s parking deck. “What if she called someone while out of the facility?”
“For what reason? I can’t imagine she’d admit to…to what she did.” Her voice lowers, reminding me she’s sitting in the middle of a busy office. Working.
“Go back to work, Nov. You don’t need to leave early. I know how swamped you are right now. I’ll be fine. I just pulled into the building—”
“Dev.”
“I’ll see you later, baby. I love you.” I disconnect the call before she argues.
I’m numb. Exiting the car, walking through the building, the ride up the elevator, the path down the long hallway to Nova’s unit—all a blur. Just as I did when I was younger, I go somewhere unreachable in my mind, losing time and place. Nothing registers until I’ve stripped off my workout clothing and am standing beneath the scalding water of the shower. Then, my only emotion is fury.
I see red.
Smacking my palm against the shower tiles, I release one full-bodied guttural curse after another.
A secret buried for fifteen years. A truth I’ve kept hidden for six. My deepest shame in the hands of the media.
I’ve just pulled a pair of shorts on when keys rattle at the front door.
Of course, she didn’t listen and came home.Her heart is why I love her.
“You weren’t supposed to leave.” I stall at the threshold between her bedroom and the living room. Nova stands in the postage stamp-sized entrance to her condo, the door not fully shut, her keys clenched in one hand, her purse swaying from the other. Her pale face streaked with mascara-tinted tears commands my attention.
“It’s my fault.” Her chin quivers.
My gaze runs the length of her body looking for an explanation for her tears. She seems unharmed. Then, her words click. “Your fault?”
She inches further inside, the door closing as her purse hits the floor. “Collin Panovitch with Insider Sports called me as I was leaving the office. He wanted to know if I cared to comment on my boyfriend’s story.”
“Why would he think you’d have something to say?”
