❝ You make this messed-up world look so much more beautiful. ❞ Gathering me in his arms, he pulled me close -- his lips seeking mine hungrily.
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The only thing Summer Hale has ever wanted was to live peacefully away from her secrets...
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I don't mean to mislead you, I promise So uncomfortable bein' dishonest, ah-ah And I think I just realised I would say anything To come off a little more interesting — Lies by Will Jay
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Lightning cracked the sky just as I switched off my car's engine.
Three days had gone by since I watched Summer walk out of my apartment. The ache of her departure remained in my chest, and the smile on her face before she closed the door engraved itself in the deepest parts of my brain, haunting me.
I missed her. I wanted to hold her. Kiss her. Make love to her.
But this was the only way to keep her safe.
Stepping out of the car, I surveyed my surroundings. People gathered beyond the caution line and across the street as they tried to catch a thing or two on what was happening.
"Mr. Gray," called a woman, wearing a suit with a police badge hanging around her neck. She extended a hand out to me, and I shook it briefly. "I'm Detective Fletcher," she said. "Mr. John is inside the house. He's already been briefed on the situation by my partner."
"Are you sure it's the person we were looking for?" I asked.
"Positive."
She turned and walked up the front porch steps to the door. I followed close behind her, catching a few probing stares. Bloody journalists. The horrid stench of rotting flesh and spoiled food combined slammed into me as I entered, causing my face to contort. She guided me to the living room that was cordoned off, where Mr. John and her partner were conversing in hushed voices. I spotted the body bag and the large patch of dried blood staining the couch and carpeted floors. Empty beer bottles and takeout boxes were scattered everywhere. There were two ashtrays on the coffee table and a bong, and all the furniture was worn out, left to rot by the owner.
The foul smell was unbearable, but it was a reminder of what I was getting myself into again.
I had turned my back on this life after the scandal, not wanting to get involved until I was appointed as the Managing Director of Stanford Group. But the woman I loved — the only woman I ever loved — was being threatened and targeted by an unknown enemy.
