Page 50 of Finding Eve
She’d been wrong about her ex’s family too. She’d thought they loved her, but after her breakup with Parker, she never heard from them again. Never shared another glass of wine with his sisters. Never learned another cookie recipe from his mother. Never groaned at another bad dad joke from his father.
From one heartbeat to the next, they were gone.
Like her parents before them and the Matthews after.
When it came to family, Eve had struck out in spectacular fashion.
Lord knows—she’d tried to be someone worth loving. Someone worth keeping. Always smiling. Always agreeable. Always bending herself into a pretzel to fit in. Not anymore. Some people weren’t meant to be blessed with a family. Fine. She was done with having her heart trampled.
Lesson learned. No more pining for something she couldn’t have. No more relying on fake families for comfort and support. From now on, Eve planned to go it alone. She was smart. Strong. Independent.
She didn’t need any help taking down the Matthews.
Not from Adam. Not from anybody.
“Are you okay?” Davis asked.
For a second, she wondered at the worry in his voice until she realized she had a white-knuckled grip on the edge of the sink. “I’m fine,” she replied, prying her fingers loose. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
“Any chance you know where my truck is?”
“Ah…”
“I’ll take that as a yes. Do you know where the key is?”
“Um…”
“Does Adam have it?”
“No.”
“Who does?”
“Zander.”
“Can you get it?”
“From Z? Heck no!” Davis’s shock and horror would have been hilarious—if she had a way to get off this damn mountain.
“What about Grant? Can he get the key?”
“Yeah. But he won’t.”
Eve didn’t need to ask why. The answer stared at her through the window. As if he could read her mind, Adam’s entire countenance communicated a nonverbal warning too clear to be mistaken, and the slow—don’t even try it—head shake triggered a strong desire to punch someone in the face.
Okay. Not someone.
Adam.
She wanted to punch Adam in the face. Steal his truck. Drive back to LA, and…
Yeah. Stupid plan. Reason number one, no way she’d get the drop on Mr. Bossy Pants a second time. Reason number two, she still didn’t know who had been helping the Matthews get away with murder.
New plan.
A hot shower. A glass of the pinot noir Davis had put on the second shelf of the fridge. And a good night’s sleep, because tomorrow morning, bright and early, she was out of here whether Adam approved or not.
