Little Lies

by Elena M. Reyes

  “That’s correct.”

  “Okay.” He takes two steps closer and pauses, pulling out a small notebook. The action reminds me of my therapist, and I frown a bit, something Theodore catches but before he can ask, I’m shaking my head. “Miss Moore, I want you to know that while I don’t suspect foul play, I do need to investigate and eliminate any possible doubt. Do you understand and agree to this?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do I have your permission to question you now?”

  “You do, but I have something that should make this simple.” Both men look at me, one with surprise and the other with knowledge in those warm honey eyes.

  “How so? Better yet, let’s start with why you didn’t call 911 immediately after finding the body.” That comes from the detective. His curiosity is mixed with reproach while I look over at Theodore.

  “Do you know where my phone is? Or can I borrow yours?”

  “You can use mine.” From his pocket, Theodore takes out a small device that reminds me of Tero’s second cell, which he claimed was for family, and hands it over. Nothing fancy. It’s basic. “Code is 1982.”

  Nodding, I punch in the code and open the internet app once the interface comes to the screen. The search is quick and even quicker is logging in and looking for the video in question. And while I do this, neither man speaks but they watch me, and only once I turn the phone toward Detective Consuelos does he understand my rush.

  The timecard started recording around two a.m. and continues in intervals as the motion sensor cameras pick up movement. There’s only a lull between videos that lasts ten minutes, but I’ll leave that up to them to investigate.

  I don’t want to see him die.

  I don’t want to see that image ever again.

  “You had cameras running?”

  “That should’ve been picked up by the officers on the scene, Detective.” Theodore takes the phone from me and hands it over to the unprepared man. “This should clear everything up for you—go ahead and look through the recordings. I’m sure Miss Moore will be more than willing to give you her login information when you’re done.”

  “Of course. Thank you.” Consuelos does just that, and for a few minutes I watch from my hospital bed as he goes through video after video from different camera angles, not bothering to mute the sound or his reactions to the horror-filled scream captured on each. How did I not hear this? Is going deaf for hours a side-effect of my medication?

  To be honest, I don’t even remember taking anything last night.

  However, this happened, and I can only imagine what the detective is seeing, telling myself that it’s a movie and not real life, but the haunting sound fills every square inch of this room and I shudder. My throat constricts a bit, and I can’t stop myself from bringing a hand up to the area, which Theodore catches.

  “Take the device outside,” he hisses out from between clenched teeth, causing the detective to nearly drop the phone. “Can’t you see what that’s doing to her?”

  Detective Consuelos looks at me then with a horror-stricken face, and I’m sure mine mimics his. “My apologies, Miss. This was both unprofessional and careless of me. I didn’t mean to cause you any stress. We have more than enough evidence to clear you of any wrongdoing, not that you were directly being investigated, and we’ll commence a different type of search. Do we have permission to bring in someone from animal control to catch the snake? Traps will be set up for your protection and to remove and relocate the animal who was probably released by an exotic pet owner.”

  “Yes,” I manage to croak out, taking the glass of water from Theodore and then taking a few sips. “Please do.”

  “You have my word that we will catch it, Miss Moore. You’ll be safe again.” With that, he leaves and it’s just myself and the handsome man watching me carefully. And while I have so many questions that need answers, exhaustion hits me hard and I close my eyes. The need to rest is nearly overwhelming, and the last thing I hear is so low I’m afraid it’s all in my imagination.

  You’ll be staying in my home tonight.

  16

  Theodore

  She looks so defenseless and small on that bed, but more so as the detective overlooking the murder case interrogated her a little after waking up. I wanted to safeguard her from this, to break his jaw when he insinuated wrongdoing for not calling it in right away, but Gabriella handled herself perfectly. So prettily.

  She knew her limits and rights and made it known, especially when handing over the security password where two motion sensor cameras captured the event. I’ll also be looking at the footage later while she rests in my home, because that’s where she’ll sleep tonight.

  Under my roof. My care.

  I’m not letting her out of my sight. Not today. Not tomorrow.

  I’m a firm believer in fate, and it’s led me to her. This is a predestined path we all must follow, and my admiration for her work has led to an infatuation with the little beauty that’s been building for years. Her paintings are an extension of that inherent mouthiness that makes her all the more attractive.

  I like her blushing tendencies.

  I like her sassy responses.

  She’s naturally stunning and without pretentiousness; what you see is what you get. It’s there in her expressive eyes and body language. There’s no need to guess with her, and that’s more than refreshing. It’s so fucking sexy.

  “Am I crazy?” she whispers while asleep and I chuckle, taking in the slow rise and fall of her chest. How her eyelids flutter and goose bumps spread down her arms. So, little Gabriella naturally talks in her sleep? Adorable. “Feels like it. Everything is out of my control.”

  “You’re not,” I answer even though the question wasn’t for me—who knows what’s going on in her dreamlike state, but if she can hear me, my hope is that I bring her comfort. Taking a hold of her hand, I slowly bring it to my lips and place a kiss over each knuckle. “I promise.”

  “But these dreams and the voice—”

  “Dreams are just dreams, sweetheart. Nothing is wrong with you.” My lips are against her skin, loving the softness of her hand. How delicate and small it is in my own. “You’re perfect as is. Always have been.”

  Soft footfalls make a squeaking sound the closer to the room they get, and I turn to look at the door a second before the on-call attending peeks his head in. He’s on the younger side and with wandering eyes that sweep across her face a little longer than what’s appropriate and he knows it.

  The asshole smirks to himself and walks in, but stops when he notices me. Blue eyes widen and a tan complexion becomes a bit pale; he backs down faster than he blinks.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know anyone was—”

  “When will she be discharged?” I interrupt his meaningless apology. I’m not a man of useless words or platitudes; I say only what I mean, and nothing less. Anything else is a waste of time. He stares at me but doesn’t speak for a few minutes and my patience is running thin, too thin to play this game. “Answer me.”

  The man swallows hard, nodding fast. “As soon as she wakes up. Her vitals are stable, and other than exhaustion, Miss Moore is fine.” Dr. Frausu, as his name tag reads, hasn’t bothered to look at the machines monitoring her or the notes left behind by the nurse an hour ago. My jaw ticks and the hand not holding hers clenches, nails digging into my palm. “I’ll have the paperwork ready for whenever she wakes up. Does that work?”

  “You do that.” There’s a slight jerk to her hand and her breathing has changed. My eyes flick to her, and I notice the faster rise and fall of her chest. She’s alert. And yet Gabriella’s playing asleep to listen in. Bad girl.

  “Of course, sir. I just need to check—”

  “Get out.” The words come out on a low growl, and I notice him flinch from the corner of my eye. He’s also looking at the floor. “Send the nurse to check her as your incompetence isn’t welcomed in this room. Understood?”

  “I’m her doc—”

>   My head snaps in his direction, eyes narrowed. “I don’t like to repeat myself. Understood?”

  “Yes.” He nods before I finish and then scurries off before I can acknowledge his response. Pathetic.

  “That was mean.” A low chuckle greets my ears, and I tilt my head in her direction while watching the door close. “And here I thought you were harmless.”

  “So is pretending to be asleep in order to spy on the conversation, Miss Moore.”

  “Which sin is worse?” she asks while I turn to face her, my body leaning closer.

  “The one where you doubt my abilities to protect you at all costs.” My words cause her to blush, and yet I also notice I ruffled some feathers. She’s glaring while biting that damn bottom lip I yearn to lick. “Something on your mind, Gabriella?”

  She scoffs, a challenging brow raised. “How is it rude when the conversation is about me?”

  I don’t miss her avoidance and mimic the action. “Easy.”

  “I’m waiting.”

  “I know.” Keeping my eyes on hers, I get just close enough to make her gasp. For goose bumps to rise across her soft skin while I bite back a grin. “It’s rude because it’s beneath you. It’s rude because I’ll never hide anything from you, Gabriella. Ask me, and I’ll always answer.”

  “Trust isn’t freely given by me. Nor does this make sense.” A red curl has gotten loose from her messy updo, and I push it back behind her ear with a single finger. She shivers. Shakes a little. “We don’t know each other, and this makes no sense.”

  I nod at her low response. “We don’t, and it does.”

  “How so?”

  “Because sometimes life places a gift in your path that you’d be an idiot to ignore. Because there’s something between us, more than this sudden attraction, that I won’t ignore.”

  “And I’m that gift?”

  “You are more than that.”

  “This is my home,” I say after entering my penthouse apartment in the Belltown area a few hours later. She’s been discharged into my care, per the nurse’s request to be monitored and a bit of negotiating on my behalf. She doesn’t know me well enough yet, and I was more than accommodating in sending a message to the detective working the case via her phone and mine explaining where Gabriella is and the why.

  Elise also knows, but not by our doing. She’d found us leaving the hospital—were almost inside my car—when her false best-friend-instincts arose, and she tried to take Gabriella with her. Not that the blonde idiot cared or wanted to help, something the beauty beside me knows, but more to prevent this.

  Miss Moore in my home. Close to me.

  “Come on, Gabby,” Elise says with the fakest smile on her face, her hand reaching out toward the stiff woman beside me. “Let me get you home and settled in so Theodore can return to his busy day. I’m sure he doesn’t have time to babysit you.”

  “How did you know we were here, Miss Scott?”

  Her eyes flicker to mine, batting her lashes before attempting to seem concerned. Lies. A motherfucking lie. “Didn’t Gabriella tell you she called me? She said she needed a ride home and I came down right away.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Ask her yourself, Theodore. Right, Gabby?” Both sets of eyes turn toward the quiet woman beside me who promptly rolls her eyes at Elise while holding her hand out silently for my car keys. We are but a few steps from it, almost within reach if you lean over enough, and I hand them over without a second thought. “Gabriella! We spoke about this and have an agreement.”

  There’s a hidden meaning behind those words, a tinge of a threat, but my girl’s response is to unlock the door and get in, closing it with a bit more force than necessary, but the answer is in her actions. She wasn’t going anywhere with her. Not that I would’ve allowed it either.

  Gabriella could’ve left, could’ve let Elise manipulate her, but I was proud of her for not saying a single word. Moreover, I’m expecting her so-called friend’s call. Because after our brunch fiasco, I’ve done my own bit of research and know more than she wants—what is beneficial to her.

  “And you live here alone?” Gabriella asks out of nowhere and I bite back a smile. What she doesn’t ask outright is if I’m dating anyone.

  “I do. There hasn’t been anyone in my life for a long time.”

  “And now?”

  “And now you’ll get a tour.” This is the largest unit in this area and those surrounding, with over fifty-seven hundred square feet of living space, a wrap-around terrace, and an ostentatious master bath that I can see her enjoying. It’s where I relax when in the city, and the interior reflects that with clean lines, minimal gold accents, and black-on-black everything.

  All shades. All styles.

  Modern. Mid-century. There’s even a touch of farmhouse in the soft chenille blankets Tero’s wife insisted I keep in a leather basket of the same color when she decorated the place.

  “Trust me, Theodore,” she’d said with a knowing grin. “You will thank me later.”

  I’ve always favored this color, and she sees that as I walk us in deeper with a hand on the small of her back. We pause at the entrance of the living room where the Space Needle greets her and the waters of Lake Union can also be seen depending on which way you look.

  “Wow,” is all she says, taking in everything. The Seattle skyline is the backdrop and its lights the sole hint of color dancing across my walls. “And you made it seem as though you didn’t understand the difference in shades.”

  It’s hard to keep a straight face at her jest; I know exactly what she’s talking about, and I’m also proud of her for joking after everything that’s happened. She saw Tim both alive and dead mere hours apart but is keeping her composure and trying to move past it. But that might also have to do with the medications given to her before we left, which should last the night; tomorrow is another day, and I’ll help her through it.

  Nothing that happened was her fault.

  “When did I do that?” She tugs on my arm to face her and when I do, that small hand goes to her hip. Gabriella cocks it, watching me through a mock glare, and this time my lips twitch. The woman is refreshing. So adorable. “Is there a question hidden within that pose?”

  “At the supply store...”

  “What of it?” I know what she’s insinuating, but it’s much more fun to annoy her a bit. And it’s because of the rough night that I push a little more, to keep her from going back to the awful memory. “All I did was hear you go on and on while not interrupting. Temperamental artists hate that.”

  “You jerk!” But then her brows furrow, lips thinning into a line. “I can’t believe she said that during a meeting, and that sadly, I still considered her a friend up until recently. I’m beyond embarrassed by Elise’s behavior.”

  “That reflected on her, not you.” Walking us deeper into my home, I take her into the kitchen while keeping my opinions on the woman to myself. Not now. She’ll see for herself soon enough. Know everything. “Are you hungry? Thirsty?”

  “Thank you for saying that, and no. I’m just tired and should probably...” Gabriella trails off, her eyes wide while slapping her forehead. The sound is loud, and I bite back my disapproval. “I can’t believe I just—”

  Taking the few steps between us, I cage her face in my hands and lift it up. She shivers a bit but also pulls in closer, which I more than approve of. “What’s wrong? Is this about your dog?”

  “Please take me home.” The unshed tears in her eyes hit me in the gut. I don’t like to see her like this, even if at times unpreventable. “I’ll be fine, and I need to take care of him.”

  “No,” I say the word low, softly. “You need to rest, and he is safe.” Gabriella tries to interrupt me, but stops at the shake of my head. “Tero has him and will bring him in the morning.”

  “He has him?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you didn’t tell me this earlier because?” And fuck me if her huff and annoyance aren’t cute to me. �
��Also, why are you so hell-bent on me staying here? I’m okay, I swear, and—”

  “I want you here because I’m worried for you. I want you here because I care and can’t get you out of my head, Gabriella.” Those luscious lips part, and a small gasp escapes them. “And I want you here because this unexplainable pull won’t allow it to be any other way.”

  “Okay.”

  “Okay?” I chuckle, earning a roll of her eyes. “That easy?”

  “I’m too tired to argue over who is right and who’s gone insane.” At her response, I rub my thumb across her cheeks. I love how soft she is and the way she reacts with another small shiver. “Besides, I’m just as curious about you as you are me and this weird attraction that I won’t deny. That, and the detective and Elise...” the annoyance in her tone as she mentions the ex-friend nearly makes me laugh “...know where I am. You try something funny, and it will be you they look for.”

  “Is that a threat?”

  A small shrug. “More like an honest observation.”

  “A very smart one,” I agree and then drop my hands from her face. “Which is why I insist you eat and then get some rest. It’s late, and you’ve had a long day.”

  “Not really hungry,” she says through a sudden small yawn.

  “But can I tempt you with anything?” At once, her skin flushes and it takes every ounce of self-control in my body not to nip her bottom lip. To taste her. “Tell me, and I’ll make it happen.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Fine is the code word for ‘I’m not really okay’ so speak up.”

  Her eyes flicker away from mine and toward the clock on my left, and the only reason I don’t complain is how quickly they shift back. I’m always so unlike myself around her. “What I’d like is nearly impossible to get at this time. No use in arguing, but can I FaceTime my dog instead?”

  “Tell me.”

  “No.”

  “Try me.”

  “Has anyone told you before just how pushy you are?” My response is a non-caring shrug. “Ughh, fine. Pie.”