Page 29 of The Truth of Our Secrets

I grab my phone and step out to the living room. The need-to-know burns in my chest.

Me: Did you really hit Jayce tonight

Emmet: Believe whatever you want

My fingers hover over my phone.

Me: That’s not an answer

Emmet: It’s the only one I’m giving

G’nite Miss Rose

He’s been calling me Madyson and Jayce specifically told him I go by McKenna. I’m unclear if he’s trying to upset me or remind me of our past.

I can’t show up at Unframed Art without some sort of explanation for Alec. Alec thinks the worst of me right now and I hate the distance between us.

I go into a deep dive of Emmet’s social media to figure out where he lives. I hate lying to Jayce, but he’s definitely not telling me something. He’s not judgmental, but has strong opinions about Emmet.

Jayce’s voice echoes in my head asking why it’s so important to have Emmet in my life.

I doubt he’ll like the truth.

This is a definite setback for us.

Chapter twelve

Jayce

The offices are a whirlwind of activity. An injured player always creates a story, but they’re circling sharks with a hint of a scandal. Being on the receiving end of lots of speculation, I’m pro privacy.

The public expects and demands details of people’s lives that they have no business knowing. People’s right to facts fuels billions of dollars in gossip sites and fake news organizations. It’s sickening.

Not one person’s life will change if they learn Dylon has a drug problem. His life could crumble under the scrutiny, but people literally don’t fucking care. They act superior when someone in the public eye has a problem.

Sad fucking lives they lead, if that’s how they feel good about themselves.

I’m so lost in thought, I don’t look at my cell before I pick up.

“McKenna,” I answer.

“Is that how you greet your husband?” His voice oozes through the phone and my stomach revolts.

“Don’t call me that,” I grit out. “What do you want?”

“Darling, it’s been so long. Don’t you miss me?”

“No.” I brace myself for a threat.

“You do. You miss filling my hole with your cum after brutally fucking me. She can’t take the punishment the way I do. You crave it and you’re denying yourself,” he taunts.

“Tell me what you want.” My mind filters through endless possibilities. None of them good.

“You’re always so suspicious.” He tsks. “How is that redhead? Is she still around?”

“Leave her alone.” I shut my office door, put my phone on speaker, and check her location. She’s at the gallery and I send a quick text that I love her. I just need her response to confirm he hasn’t poisoned us.

His humorless laugh filters through the phone. He’s my worst mistake. I thought he loved me, but Peter only loves himself. The rest of us are all collateral damage.

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