You Know I Need You: Book 2, You Know Me duet (You Are Mine Duets 4)

by Willow Winters

  As Evan’s lips pull into a smile and he relaxes his posture, he takes my hand in his.

  “You know I miss this side of you?” he tells me.

  “What side?”

  “The playful side,” he answers and squeezes my hand … kind of like how my heart squeezes. This is the version of my husband I want all the time. The man I know and love.

  “Can I tell you a secret?” I whisper just before the waiter walks up to us. “I miss it too.”

  “Are you two ready to order?” the waiter asks, looking between us and clasping his hands in front of him.

  “You first,” Evan says and gestures at me.

  “The lasagna please, with a house salad.” I almost order a glass of cabernet but then I stop myself. Every time I remember we’re having a baby, it’s a gift in itself.

  “I’ll have the same,” Evan says, and it surprises me.

  When the waiter leaves, I comment with a questioning smirk, “You never have lasagna.”

  He shrugs and says, “I guess I want to try it your way.”

  “We have the next doctor’s appointment coming up and since you’re no longer working, I assume you’re coming with me?”

  “Of course,” Evan says then nods and leans forward, lowering his voice and adding a huskiness to it that makes every inch of my body tingle. “You know you look beautiful, right?”

  I can’t help the smile and blush that spread across my face at his compliment. “Stop,” I say, brushing him off.

  “Never,” he answers playfully, his handsome asymmetric smile toying with my emotions.

  That warm cheery feeling in my chest slowly drifts away as I remember my own little secret. Not so little, really.

  “I have something to tell you,” I say, uttering the words even at the risk of upsetting Evan. I guess I waited intentionally for us to be out in public before I could tell him. “I did something that I don’t think you’re going to like.”

  “What’s that?” he asks easily, although I notice his shoulders stiffen.

  “I was curious about something and I think it’s something only I would know how to ask appropriately …”

  I don’t know how to word this, and I find myself staring at the ice in the glass of water.

  “You can tell me. Whatever it is.”

  “I went to see Samantha a couple days ago. At her place on Fifth Avenue,” I tell him, confessing before I can stop myself. The air instantly changes as Evan doesn’t respond. He seems uncomfortable if anything.

  “I had to know for myself.”

  “What did you have to know?” He shifts in his seat

  “I had to know if she was your type. What she was like. So I know how to react when her name comes up.”

  Evan runs his hand down the back of his head as he looks away from me. “Her name isn’t going to come up …”

  “You don’t understand—” I start to explain but he cuts me off.

  “There’s no one else for me, Kat,” he tells me bluntly, his hands hitting the table and rattling the small plates. The couple a table down from us glances in our direction and Evan grimaces. Sometimes he doesn’t realize his own strength.

  “I knew you would be upset—” I begin my apology and again he cuts me off.

  “But you did it anyway.” His cocked brow adds some humor although I still feel guilty over it all.

  I nod my head once. “I did. And it’s over.”

  The tension between us lifts a bit as I look him in the eyes and say, “It’s over. There’s nothing there and I’m fine now, but I had to tell you.”

  “You’re fine?”

  “Yes,” I answer and I am. “There’s no way she’s your type.”

  My response gets a short laugh from Evan. A genuine smile even. “You know you’re crazy?” he asks me.

  “I do. And you made me this way.”

  “Fair enough,” he says but then his expression gets serious.

  “I know, don’t do it again,” I say before he can tell me.

  “I’m serious,” he says, and I nod.

  I glance to Evan’s right, toward the front of the restaurant as another couple walks in. “I was surprised that Samantha does pills,” I say absently. More to gossip than anything else. Well, maybe to throw her under the bus a little. I can admit that I’m not a big enough woman not to.

  “What?” Evan asks.

  “There was coke on her kitchen table, lying out in the open.” He looks back at me with an expression that’s not quite disbelief, but something else.

  “Coke?” he echoes. “Sam doesn’t do drugs.”

  I ignore the fact that he called her Sam and nod my head once while I add, “And a bag of pills. She had a variety pack, Adderall and a mix of things. It was like a grab bag. I would never have guessed she does drugs.” I wait for him to say something.

  “Speed?” he asks me again although it’s not quite spoken like a question.

  “I didn’t say speed,” I reply.

  “Adderall is speed,” he tells me with a concerned expression.

  “Oh, I didn’t know. I don’t know what they were. I just know what I saw and I was shocked. I’m just guessing it’s Adderall.” I swallow thickly, wishing I’d just kept my mouth shut and saved the gossip for the girls.

  I watch as Evan’s forehead pinches, but there’s something else in his expression that catches me off guard. It’s hard and unforgiving. Something that sends a chill down my spine. Even his hands clench into fists on top of the table. I glance at them and then his eyes, but movement behind him at the front of the restaurant catches my attention.

  “Is that Suzette?” Even with the shock of seeing her stride in just now, I don’t think I’ve ever been happier for a change of subject. I wish I could snatch the last two minutes of our conversation from the air and shove them back into my petty mouth.

  “It’s definitely Sue,” I say, holding up Evan’s end of this conversation since he’s still silent. I’d know that blunt bob anywhere. She walks slowly as she digs in her purse, looking for something at the front of the restaurant.

  I’m pushing my chair out from the table when my mouth drops open at the sight of a man coming up from behind her.

  He’s much taller than she is even in her heels. I don’t recognize him; he’s facing away from me. In a black suit, he stalks up behind her, moving his hand to her waist and pulling her close to him.

  “Who is that?” I say beneath my breath, but when I look to Evan and try to get his attention, he’s busy on his phone.

  “Babe,” I say, not so quietly trying to get his attention. It’s not every day you see one of your good friends being felt up by someone you don’t know. I much prefer this conversation. It’s easy and Evan always has something to say about whoever Sue is “dating.”

  I have to turn my head when I look back up to keep my eyes on them and try to follow them down the hall. But they’re gone before I even get the chance to stand.

  I swear it was her and I go to reach for my phone to send her a message, but glancing at Evan, he stops me in mid reach.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask him as he stares at his phone.

  “We have to go.” His response is hard and nonnegotiable.

  “We just got here,” I object, but that doesn’t stop him from standing up abruptly as the waiter returns to our table.

  “I’m so sorry, we have to go,” Evan tells the waiter. “Please cancel the order.”

  “Are you serious?” I hiss as the couple from before looks at us again.

  “I’m sorry, but something just came up,” he tells me and there’s a look in his eyes that’s begging me not to push him.

  “Please, Kat,” he says, ushering me away. “We need to leave. Now.”

  Chapter 28

  Evan

  “This alley smells like piss,” Mason says as we stop between a Chinese restaurant and a shoe store. I met up with him on Prince Street and we walked our way here. Just me and him … and business to take care of.
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  I take a whiff and immediately regret it. “This is where he’s going, though, right?”

  “Should already be there,” he answers.

  “That’s what it said on his profile. ‘Getting ready for the party,’” he elaborates beneath his breath and shoves his hands in his pockets.

  It’s bitter cold and the city streets are packed with people shopping and moving about like normal.

  “I don’t believe in coincidences,” I tell Mason and bring it up again.

  His eyes flicker to me and then back across the street.

  “There’s no way she happens to do speed,” I tell him. I’ve known Samantha for a long damn time. “Her husband dabbles in all sorts of drugs recreationally. But she doesn’t touch it. She never has.”

  “It’s possible she does it on the down low,” he suggests. “You’d be surprised how many people do coke nowadays.”

  I shake my head. “There has to be a connection between her and the dealer.”

  “We’re gonna find out, aren’t we?” he asks me, although it’s a rhetorical question.

  “What’s the plan?”

  “All we need is an address.”

  “Just follow him, then?” I ask with disbelief.

  “Only for a bit, then we switch off so we aren’t seen.”

  “Switch off to who?”

  “I got some guys,” Mason says, and frustration gets the best of me.

  “I want to be the one—” I start, but he’s quick to cut me off.

  “You want to keep her safe? Getting into this shit isn’t what you need. That’s not what the man who deserves to be at Kat’s side would do.”

  That shuts me up, but I fucking hate it. He’s been edging me out of this. Giving me less and less.

  “So, we just wait?” I ask him again.

  “Yeah,” he answers, and his breath turns to fog, “just wait.”

  Almost an hour passes before I think about going back to Kat. She has no idea what this could mean. I’m sure she’ll be pissed I took off in addition to cutting our date short. Sirens wail in the distance and the busy city night reminds me of how things used to be.

  “Fuck me,” I say out loud and run my hands down my face.

  “Sorry, you’re not my type,” Mason says so matter-of-factly from his spot next to me, I grunt a short laugh despite myself. “I feel so fucking trapped.”

  “I know the feeling,” Mason tells me, and I give him a sidelong glance. His stare only hardens. “I know what it’s like to be in a lose-lose situation where the stakes are high.” He looks forward, staring at the opposite brick wall in the thin alley. “Too high,” he mutters under his breath.

  “So, what do you do?” I say and get his attention again. “How do you win?” I ask him with all sincerity as if he has an answer that will put an end to this hell.

  He shakes his head as he looks down at the ground and replies, “Sometimes there’s not a way to win, only a way to survive.”

  I have to tear my eyes away from him, knowing he’s right and when I do, I spot something. My arm reaches out and I smack him in the chest.

  “Visual.” The single word is barely spoken from me, and Mason doesn’t hesitate to take out his phone and call the tail. “He’s here,” he speaks into the phone as both of us watch the perp, chatting with some guy in an open doorway on Twentieth and Broadway. Even from his profile, I know it’s him.

  Every muscle in my body coils, ready to fight. It’s been weeks of holding back and not being able to do anything. And just across the street is the last piece to this puzzle of fucking misery.

  Dark black hair slicked back and tanned skin with a tattoo scrolling up his neck. It’s definitely him. We got this prick.

  The second he’s walking down the stone steps, we’re moving out of the alley and following from across the street. I keep my eyes on him, walking through the thick crowd with my jaw clenched.

  “Johnny, we got him.” Mason talks into his cell phone as we walk. I try not to make it obvious that we’re following the fucker. At the same time, I’m holding back every desire to chase the dealer down and beat the shit out of him to get every bit of information from him.

  Mason says we should bribe him. It’s not exactly my style, though.

  “Heading down Twenty-second,” I hear Mason say and instinctively I glance up to look at the street sign before turning left to follow him.

  My blood’s pumping hard and with every step it gets harder and harder not to pick up speed.

  Right as we get to the end of the block and the crosswalk sign turns to a red hand, the fucker walks out, ignoring the oncoming cars and nearly getting hit, but he keeps going, yelling out, “Hey, watch it!” at the drivers as if it’s their fault. I move to do the same. We can’t risk losing him, but Mason puts his arm out in front of my chest to stop me.

  “He’s got him,” he tells me, his eyes glued to the dealer’s back as he vanishes into the thick crowd. “Johnny’s on him.”

  My shoulders rise and fall with my heavy breaths. I’m calm on the outside, but inside I’m pacing. The nerves eat away at me. “I need to do something,” I tell him, ignoring how the woman to my right turns back to look at me as if I’ve lost it. Maybe I have.

  “Then go home,” Mason says and turns halfway around to walk right back up the way we came.

  His leather jacket bunches in my fist as I pull him back to me. “I can’t sit around and do nothing,” I say, pleading with him to understand.

  “The best thing for you to do is go home to your pregnant wife and stay right the fuck there,” Mason tells me. That’s it? That’s all I can do when this is the prick that laced that coke? When he’s the one who sold the tainted version and he’s the only one who can tell us who he sold it to.

  I swallow thickly, feeling guilt settle in my stomach. “She needs you to be there,” Mason asserts, with caution thick in every word. I wonder if he’s just saying that to make me listen to his order, or if he really means it.

  “You told her you were done with this shit. Be done with it. You saw him, you know we got the guy. It’s just a matter of time now.”

  Chapter 29

  Kat

  Evan is … not himself in the least. His shoulders are hunched, and he keeps checking his phone like he’s waiting for something.

  Ever since we left dinner last night, he’s been closed off. I wish I’d never brought up Samantha. It was a mistake.

  Evan checks his phone again as an explosion on the television booms through the living room. He doesn’t flinch or react. He’s numb.

  I scroll through the list I’ve added to the baby registry. Maddie sent me a check-off chart and it’s so, so long. All the clothes in miniature and every odd and end, from pacifier holders to little mittens, should be enjoyable to add, but there’s a nagging feeling that claws at my chest.

  I peek up at him again, scooting closer into the cushion and pulling the throw tighter around me. “Why do you keep checking your phone?”

  “It’s nothing,” he answers.

  I’m slow and deliberate as I arrange myself into a cross-legged position across from my husband on the sofa.

  The expression on his face is one I’ve seen before, the “what is she doing?” look.

  He sets his phone down beside him, and I don’t take my eyes off his, but I notice how he tries to hide it.

  “No secrets,” I remind him. “You promised.”

  Another loud boom from the television distracts me and I reach for the remote without hesitation, bending over Evan to grab it from where it sits right next to his phone. As soon as the television screen goes black, I toss the remote behind me.

  Giving him my full attention I tell him, “I feel like maybe you have something to tell me.” I hold his gaze and his expression gives me nothing.

  I’m so close to snatching his phone out of his hands just to prove him wrong, but before I pull the trigger on that idea he says, “I don’t want to bother you with these things.”

>   “You’re my husband. You’re supposed to bother me.” I say it with a little humor, but again, he doesn’t react.

  “Tell me, Evan. I want to know.” I scoot closer to him, just a bit so my leg touches his and I rest a hand on his thigh.

  “It’s something you said. About Samantha having drugs.” Dread washes over me. I never should have gone to see her, confront her or spoken her name. I regret it all. He glances away from me at the far wall in the room. “It’s something bad,” he adds.

  “Her having drugs is … what? I don’t understand.” I hate that an inkling of jealousy creeps up on me, but it’s quickly followed by a darker realization. The coldness that came with the dread sinks down deeper, coating every inch of my skin.

  “The coke that killed Tony was laced with another drug. High amounts, enough to kill.” He looks me in the eye and slowly the pieces come together, one by one.

  A chill sinks into the marrow of my bones. Samantha. Not James. “Did you tell Mason?”

  He nods and then adds, “He thinks he has something concrete.”

  “What?” I ask him, eager for more. I can’t lie. There’s a part of me that’s afraid, but a bigger part that needs to know. Ever since Evan told me his theory, I’ve questioned it. I’ve questioned his sanity even. I started to think it was all in his head.

  “He can’t tell me over the phone,” Evan says as if that’s the end of the discussion.

  “Is it good or bad?” I ask him, guilt and stupidity both weighing down my words.

  “Good, I think.” He hesitates, but then adds, “He said it’s done and to come see him. I’m just waiting for the time and place.”

  “It’s done?” I question, feeling my eyes widen with hope. My lungs stay perfectly still until Evan nods his head once.

  “Just waiting for the time and place.” He turns his attention back to the television and then glances at the remote.

  There’s an eerie feeling that settles between us, a darkness I can’t seem to grasp.

  “You know I love you, right?” he asks as he brushes the hair out of my face.