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Once dressed, I head out of my room and down the hall.
Time to see what she’s up to.
Her room is empty. I take that as an invitation to look around. It’s my place, after all.
When we moved her stuff in, I already took the opportunity to peek, but now that her bag is here, I figure maybe I missed something.
I listen to hear if anyone is coming. It’s silent in the hall, so I open the bag, pulling out her notebook.
Maybe there are some bank records or correspondences. Maybe there’s something on her phone?
I instructed the phone company to send me transcripts of her texts and records of her calls. But now that she knows I’m tracking her, I have a feeling if there is anything amiss, she is not going to put it in writing.
I consider having Jax install an app on her phone remotely. One that mirrors her phone calls and sends them to me, but even I think that might be a little invasive.
Probably highly illegal.
Definitely not favorable if push comes to shove, and we head to court.
Since I pay for her phone, it’s not illegal to get transcripts, but duplicating and listening in crosses a line.
It’s a slippery slope.
Nothing on her phone indicates she’s texted anyone but her friend. I find it interesting and peculiar to see that she doesn’t, in fact, call her sister, save for an incoming call from Erin that lasted less than two minutes.
That relationship is something I’m going to need to investigate.
Maybe, like me, she finds it interesting that my father left the money to his girlfriend’s sister and not to his actual girlfriend. Then again, you’d think his wife and children would be the recipients but look how the fuck that turned out.
I wonder if Erin is reading between the lines and trying to figure out if Payton and my father were having an affair.
I realize that’s what I’m looking for. Proof of her treachery.
But I find nothing in any of the stuff that she brought here. Her bag and her phone also don’t tell me anything or indicate anything. I can’t say I’m disappointed. It’s a dangerous thought. One I have no business entertaining.
Being disappointed in Payton means I expected something from her.
Im-fucking-possible.
A month ago, I had Jax pull up all the information from the prison Dad was locked in, and Payton never called nor visited him, which begs the question . . . why leave her the money? What’s the reason?
It makes no sense.
The only thing I can think of is that he didn’t plan on ever allowing her to have that money. That something else was in motion, but unfortunately for him, he died too soon for his plan to come to fruition.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Payton hollers as she walks into the room.
I look up from where I am by the vanity, holding her notebook in my hand.
Clearly, I’ve been caught snooping. I have two choices: I can try to deny it, or I can admit it. Seeing as I’m an asshole, I go with the latter.
“Going through your stuff.”
No reason to lie now.
“You can’t do that.”
“It’s part of the stipulations,” I say, opening the notebook again even though I’ve already finished skimming it.
