Page 26 of Tainted Truth

“No more secrets, Spencer. Talk to me.”

Spencer concentrates on the collar of my shirt as she ponders her next words, running her hands up and down my chest.

If she does that much longer, I’m going to fuck her right here on this bed.

That’s not a bad idea.

Clearing her throat she says, “Solana and I talked a little bit.”

My body tenses. I’m not sure what Spencer and my baby sister discussed, but by Spencer’s demeanor, I can assume it’s not how I wore Spiderman boxers through my teens.

I’ve never cared too much about what people think. It’s not in my nature, but for some reason, I care. I care what Spencer will think when she knows the truth.

CHAPTER 9

SPENCER

Rio’s muscles go taut under my hands, and when I look up, Rio’s focus is elsewhere. I bring my hand to his face and smooth the tension between his brows with my fingers. He’s never serious like that around me, and I don’t want that to start now.

This may be a serious conversation, but I don’t want to drag him down. I need him to be the Rio I know and love.

No. Not love. Nope.

Not yet.

Fucking hell.

“She told me about?—”

“Izzy.” His voice is tight.

“Yeah.” The struggle I see in him sits heavy on my chest. “You don’t need to tell me about her—you don’t owe me answers. I just wanted to say that I’m sorry. I’m sorry you lost her.”

His face turns to the side, so I gently place my hands on his cheeks and bring his attention back to me. When his eyes connect with mine, I reassure him. “I’m here. You’ve made sure I’m not going anywhere.” I chuckle.

Therapists everywhere are shaking their heads at me. Using humor to cope in a situation like this probably isn’t healthy—I learned that much from the few books I’ve read.

“I want to tell you. I said no more secrets, and I meant that.” The seriousness of his tone shuts me up, but I continue to comfort him by smoothing my hand over his short hair and drawing circles on his scalp.

He inhales deeply, letting out a long breath, then gets a far off look in his eyes. “I was ten years old when Isabella went missing. Elena was six, and Carmen wasn’t born yet. We were playing with her in the front yard while my mom was putting the groceries away. We were kicking a soccer ball back and forth. Izzy was just three and wanted to prove she could play just as hard and fast as Elena and I. She kicked the ball extra hard, and the ball went flying into the bushes. Elena and I both went after it. The bushes used to be thicker and were difficult to dig into—our backs were only turned for a couple minutes. When we turned around, she was gone.”

My heart sinks as I watch the anger and defeat take hold of him. “I’m so sorry.”

Rio clears his throat and continues. “About a week later, Gabriel and I were walking home from putting up fliers in the neighborhood. I passed an alleyway but turned back when I noticed something small and pink sticking out from behind the dumpster.” He swallows. “It was her shoes.”

Gasping, I cover my mouth with my hand.

“Her clothes were dirty and disheveled, like someone hadn’t put them back on right.”

Horror takes over my features, and my voice is almost inaudible. “No.”

“I didn’t know I was screaming until a crowd had gathered. Gabriel was trying to pull me off her which earned him two blackeyes. I couldn’t stop holding my baby sister—her skin was so cold.”

Tears spill down my cheeks as Rio sits up and situates himself so he’s sitting up with his back against the headboard. My knees fall to either side of his hips, and I wrap my arms around his neck, bringing my chest to his. Rio’s breathing his labored, his heartbeat is erratic.

“I’m so sorry,” I choke out on a sob, but I try to not invade this moment with my own feelings. I need to be strong for him. He deserves that much from me. “Did they catch the person who did it?”

Rio’s lips curl. “You could say that.”

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