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“I’m not doing visitors. I didn’t even use my phone call.”
“I know you didn’t. That didn’t stop your fiancée from posting bail.”
“Tommy, I said—wait. What the fuck did you just say?”
“Your fiancée bailed you out.”
“That’s—” That’s incredibly fucking weird, considering I don’thavea fiancée. “—suspicious, don’t you think? I haven’t even had time to settle in.”
“Good. Then this shouldn’t take too long. Let’s not keep the lady waiting.”
“What the fuck.”
My fiancée. Myfiancée.
That can only be one person, except Lily’s had enough time to come to her senses.
I get to my feet and stretch, ignoring my racing heart. The sore muscles are a nice touch. My abs. My legs. It’s not like I did anything but sob on the beach all night. That shouldn’t involve my calves.
There has to besomereason to stall. Some reason I can demand to be kept in police custody. Instead, my brain gives me nothing butis it her? Is it really her? Did she come for you? Go find out. Please. Please. Please. Man the fuck up and go find out if it’s her.
Tommy sighs likeI’mthe one causing the problem here.
Oh, wait—I am.
I open my mouth to give him something, anything, that would convince him to keep me here.
Tommy raises his eyebrows and gestures into the hall.
This is not the standoff I thought I’d be having with the cops. I’m not usually so poorly prepared, either.
Tommy gestures again.
“Okay, okay. Jesus.”
I follow him into the hall, my chest all tight and my lungs refusing to get with the program. This could be an epic prank on the part of the cops, though Tommy doesn’t strike me as the epic-prank kind of guy. In general, I’m the one who stages the pranks.
I haven’t staged this one.
Tommy’s shoes tap professionally on the polished floor. Mine don’t make a sound. It’s possible I don’t exist. That would make more sense than Lily coming to bail me out.
Unlessshe’s more obsessed than I thought.
Tommy leads the way into the lobby and steps up to the reception desk. He leans in to give the pair of cops behind the counter my name, and I see her.
Lily Hayes. A real-life angel.
She stands in front of the reception desk with her chin up and her shoulders squared, Snowball’s entire cage balanced on her hip. Her red hair falls in waves around her shoulders, catching sunbeams—how—and practically blinding me with them. When I left the cabin in the back of Tommy’s cop car, she was wearing sweatpants and a T-shirt. Now she’s wearing leggings and a tank top with a flannel shirt—myflannel shirt, frommycloset—and she looks so good I could die.
I might be having a heart attack right now.
Snowball hops around in his cage, tweeting his head off. He’s clearly annoyed.
Lily adjusts her grip on the handle. That tiny motion jolts me out of Snowball’s tirade, and I follow her fingers—cute—up her arm—how does she have such perfect arms?—to the curve of her neck—oh my God—and finally to her face.
To her pursed lips and her flushed cheeks and her green eyes with that fierce sunburst around the pupils, staring me down like—
Like an avenging angel. Like a terrifying one.
