Page 101 of With Us

“Do you know when he’ll be home?” I asked, grabbing my purse and suitcase.

Rachelle shook her head and gave me a crooked smile. “Hopefully not too long.”

When we got inside, I expected to have to turn off the security system, but it wasn’t activated.

“Ms. Jones must be here,” Rachelle said, setting her purse down on the table near the door. “Go sit and relax, I’ll be right back.”

I checked my phone again, but there were no messages. With a sigh, I flopped onto the couch, jumping when the TV turned on suddenly. Reaching under me, I pulled the remote out and was about turn it back off when I noticed it was the weather.

The weatherman gave a rain filled forecast which was needed. I aimed the remote at the TV again, nearly pressing the power button right as I saw a man who looked like Theo.

Alotlike him.

Realizing I was missing whatever the anchors were saying, I hit the button to rewind to the beginning of the segment.

“And it’s unknown at this time what exactly happened. The police have set up a tip line and they’re asking for anyone with information about his death to call. Next up,” the man said, glancing down at the desk, “is the surprising surrender of local business man, Theodore Amato.”

Part Two

We were good people.

I don’t even know how many times I told myself that in a vain attempt at justifying how we lived.

We were like royalty. Above them, maybe. Lusted after, loved, envied. Admired and feared, though not in equal parts.

If the proverbial red carpet was rolled out for us, jagged eggshells were strewn around it for everyone else. Almost every word spoken to us was carefully chosen, accompanied by the ever-present fear. Even those with us were never totally at ease.

Weweregood people.

Until we weren’t.

Chapter Fifteen

No

Theo

The Previous Wednesday Night

Pushing away from the table, I connected the call. “This better be good.”

“Need you down here, boss,” Sammy said, though it was hard to hear over the roaring crowd behind him.

“Astaire giving you trouble again?”

“No, that I could handle. This trouble is a little more… official.”

I dropped my head back, barely holding in my curse.

Dahlia was already well on her way to drunk. And when she was drunk, her guard dropped and she was funnier than her usual funny. She was also handsy.

I’d been looking forward to both.

“I’ll be right there,” I said, ending the call. I shot a text to Luc and Niall before tucking my phone back away.

As I approached the table again, Dahlia looked up, her smile faltering before she forced it back. “Time to go?”

I nodded, meeting her forced smile with my own apologetic one.

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