Page 28 of Secrets (The Sins Trilogy 2)
Chapter Twelve
Anthony
The second I’m back in my place, I shower in a guest bathroom so I don’t disturb Iris. The whole conversation with Sam made me feel like I’m covered in slime. I would love nothing more than to hurt him the way he wanted to hurt Iris, and I hate it that I’m helpless to do anything.
I rest an elbow against the tiled wall and hit the cool, wet surface with my fist a few times as hot water rinses the soap off me.
Have I been underestimating him the entire time? It’s possible Mother’s blatant contempt for the man has colored my perception. She’s always treated him like he’s beneath us. But somehow he got the better of her and is forcing her to invest with him even though she doesn’t want to. And he’s taunting me with Iris’s safety.
I wonder if he’s the true mastermind behind the accident. Either it was a hell of a coincidence, or he knew enough to be there when Iris’s Lexus fell into the bayou and pull her out of the water. The hit-and-run driver could be Marty. That idiot would do anything his daddy asked him to.
But that doesn’t quite make sense either. Marty’s too headstrong and stupid to have kept something like that quiet all these years. And Sam’s smart enough to know that about his son.
The only thing I know for certain is Sam was there when the accident happened. So I need to trace his movements back then if I want a more complete picture.
I get out of the shower and dry off, then text Jill.
Sam Peacher was in Tempérane, Louisiana, nine years ago. I want to know what he was doing in August. Also, I need a list of all his known associates from then until now.
She responds within seconds. Anything else?
No. This is the top priority.
I put the phone down and go to the bedroom. Iris is sleeping soundly under the covers. She looks so innocent, her face soft, her lashes fanning on her cheeks like dark crescent moons. The pendant I gave her glints. She hasn’t taken it off since I put it around her neck.
I slip under the sheets, moving carefully so I don’t wake her up. Then I wrap my arms around her and inhale the scent of my shampoo in her hair. My bed, my shampoo…my everything. Mine. Safe and warm and sweet. Her mere presence is cleansing, soothing. I cling to her like my life depends on it, while I consider how much danger she might be in. Sam was okay with her getting raped in order to manipulate her. Then he tried to kill her because he realized she’s starting to remember the night of her accident. What will he do next? Fear burns my gut, and I clench my jaw. I won’t let anything happen to her. I’ll burn the world down first.
