Page 100 of Liars and Liaisons

Otherwise, he wouldn’t have let me stay another night. It took two rounds of me sitting on his face and letting him fuck my mouth before he was relaxed enough to even consider it, and then he only acquiesced after a thirty-point check on his alarm system. And after assigning Willow and Micah as my personal guards.

“That’s what I keep telling her,” Elena says as she steps into view, squishing their faces together. “But our little badass is such a worrier.”

Cora scoffs, pushing her away. “You’re one to talk.”

“I’m a mother and the oldest sister. Worry is literally in my DNA.”

“Well, she’s my cousin. Her DNAismy DNA.”

“Not exactly how that works,” I point out, but she’s hardly even paying me any attention anymore as they exchange a weird look I can’t decipher. “Anyway, I’ve got to go. The sooner I get to sleep, the sooner Grayson and Kal can call and tell me if they’ve found my father.”

“What if you don’t like what they find?” Elena asks.

I shrug, blowing out a long breath. “I’ll… deal with that bridge if it needs to be crossed.”

With that, the phone call ends, and I flop back on the bed. My flimsy pink pajama top rides up, exposing my stomach, and I can’t help the sensation that washes over me when I think about last night—when the same thing happened but my company was much different.

“What’ll you do if your dad really is in jail?” Micah questions, not looking up from her polish.

“Bail him out, I guess.” I shrug, setting my phone on my lap. “It’s what I’ve been doing my whole life at this point.”

She nods, like that makes total sense, and a part of me wonders if she played a similar role with her sister, or even vice versa. Putting the cap back on the nail polish bottle, she spreads her toes and waddles off the bed, heading for the bathroom.

I roll onto my side, watching Willow. She pointedly ignores me.

“Are you ever going to tell her how you feel?”

Willow’s gaze swings to mine, then back to her tablet. “It would be pointless. She doesn’t feel the same.”

“Have you asked?”

“She doesn’t like girls, Violet. I don’t have to ask, and I don’t need to ruin our friendship for some ego trip.” Sighing, she pushes her tablet aside and turns her head toward the closed bathroom door. “I’ve been looking after her since she showed up on Grayson’s doorstep, begging him for a job. The only person she really had was her sister, and…” Willow trails off, lifting her shoulders as she looks at me. “I love being her friend. I don’t need more than that, not from her.”

I nod as the door reopens, and Micah prances out, cannonballing back onto the bed. She giggles when it jostles us and then snatches the tablet and pulls it up to her face.

“Okay, enough sitting around and acting like we’re eighty. We never get to sleep outside the staff rooms, so I’m going to pick out a chick flick, and Willow’s gonna go make some popcorn.”

When no one moves, she narrows her eyes. Willow groans, getting off of the bed with an irritated expression on her face.

Micah doesn’t even look, already moving back to scroll through the list of available films. “Grab some of Grayson’s liquor too. Top shelf of the cabinet in his study. There’s a key on the fireplace.”

I catch a hint of a smile on Willow’s lips as she leaves the room.

35

The receptionist looksbetween Kal and me, her blue-gray eyes as clear as the ocean when she shakes her head. Again.

“I’m sorry, boys,” she drawls, sticking a pencil through the graying bun at the back of her head. “We don’t have a Theodore Artinos being held here. Have you checked the detention center over on Parsons and Third? We get stragglers from there all the time.”

Kal sighs, giving her a curt nod. “Thanks anyway, ma’am.”

We leave the station empty-handed, though not entirely surprised. Violet’s story makes more sense than a Mafia family unnecessarily involving the police. Especially over money that’s been mostly paid back.

None of the checks I wrote were ever deposited to any accounts owned by an Artinos; they were all deposited to the same account with an alias in the Caymans, and we’re having Riley run checks to verify the ownership. I’m not sure who else would’ve gotten their hands on the money, but regardless, we’re one step closer to finding out.

Goldengrove, North Carolina, is nothing like I’ve ever seen; the beachside town is the size of Duris, with beautiful cobblestone streets and flowering trees plantedeverywhere. Downtown is covered in chalk murals, and people actually smile when we walk past, apparently unaware of the darkness in their midst.

It’s exactly the sort of place I’d have expected Violet to be from.

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