Page 56 of EverGreene
“Wait, he’s what!” I stopped dead in my tracks right as we reached our vehicles. “Do you have proof of this? Why haven’t you told anyone?”
“Yes, of course I do. And I will. It’s just—complicated.”
“Because he’s your uncle?”
“That’s part of it. But there are other reasons.”
“Like?”
He let out a breath. “Conrad has some dirt on me that if he wanted to, he could report me to the police, and I would be locked up right along with him.”
My stomach sank, and I took a step back from him. “Are you working with him?”
“No. No, absolutely not. He doesn’t even know that I know. I’m biding my time, trying to put together a plan to survive the fallout after I come forward.”
“Why are you telling me this? You know I could come forward tomorrow if I wanted to. Ruin your entire plan.”
“I don’t think you would, though. You may hate Conrad, but I don’t think you hate me that much.”
“Don’t underestimate the amount of disdain I may or may not have for you.” I chuckled. Loche stared at me, unamused. “Fine. I won’t spill your secret. For now. I’m sure if I did, the partners would ask me for proof I obviously don’t have, but that isn’t to say I won’t ever say anything. I think the others deserve to know what that fuckhead is doing behind their backs. His wife also deserves to know about his extracurricular activities with Kim.”
“She does. She just looks the other way because she’s used to it. Kim isn’t the first woman he’s had on the side, and she won’t be the last. As long as the money keeps rolling in, furnishing the lifestyle she’s grown accustomed to, she’ll staywith him. Bonus points for her is that she doesn’t have to sleep with Conrad as much or at all.”
“That sounds like a terrible life.”
Loche shrugged. “She traded love for comfort. It’s her choice. Not one I would choose myself.”
“Oh, really. You’d choose love over money?” I asked, raising my eyebrow.
“Money doesn’t keep you warm at night.”
“I mean, it can.”
“You know what I mean, Nevermore. Let me know about Thanksgiving. My roommate would love to meet you, and I’m sure my mom would just as equally love to know that I actually do talk to people other than my roommate.”
“I’ll think about it.”
He nodded. “Good night, Ever.”
Twenty minutes later, I pulled into my driveway, half expecting to see an annoyed, masked, hulking brute of a man waiting on my porch steps, tapping his watch and pointing at me in castigation for being so late coming home. Disappointment consumed me when I saw that the steps were empty aside from the package that had been delivered to me earlier. So, I guess, in a way, he was sitting there.
I scooped up the package, making sure to look into the camera. “This is going in the trash, Sir.”
If I’d questioned whether he was watching me right now, I received my answer when, as soon as I entered the house, my cellphone pinged with an incoming text message.
Why are you so late tonight?
Work. Is there a problem?
No problem at all. Open the box.
No.
Ever…be a good girl and open the damn box.
That doesn’t work on me. Tell me one fact about yourself, and I may think about opening the box.
Anything?
