Home > Last Kiss (First and Last #2)(105)

Last Kiss (First and Last #2)(105)
Author: Laurelin Paige

But the dog. And the fish.

Well. She could easily have cut the line to the fountain. Maybe she’d even seen Reeve follow me down to the cliff. She would have wanted to draw back his attention and another “incident” would do the trick. That’s why Joe couldn’t find anyone else to blame.

Except she was with me when the dog likely got poisoned.

But Buddy wasn’t. Amber had been so sure that he hadn’t been working for Vilanakis, but she hadn’t said anything about him not killing the dog. She could have convinced him to do it – given him a hand job in exchange or maybe even just batted her pretty eyes. There had been paint cans in the attic. Surely there had been poison for pests around the ranch as well. She could easily have supplied Buddy with the items he’d needed. And the message “She’s Mine” led Reeve to believe it was from Michelis and that he’d keep coming after her. It ensured that Reeve continued to keep her close.

It had happened the morning after Reeve had told her things had changed. So maybe she did really understand, and the whole “he said he still loves me” was just a show for me. To make me step aside. And I did, like she knew I would.

My heart was racing now; my palms, sweaty. Everything was fitting together so perfectly.

She’d probably leaked the press release about Chris Blakely and me too. There’d been computers at the ranch. And a laptop in Amber’s room. Reeve’s laptop. She could have easily found the picture of Chris Blakely and me in his e-mails. She would have guessed Reeve had been pissed when he saw them, could have used the same pictures and released them on social media to remind him how pissed he’d been. She probably hoped it would cause a fight between us. I had actually been surprised when it hadn’t.

I sat forward and rubbed my hands together. Was I really considering this? Was it really possible that Amber had staged… everything?

The scratches on her arms – Not Yours… That couldn’t possibly have been Vilanakis who made the marks if he hadn’t been the one to kill her. So, at the very least, she’d done that herself.

And the rest was possible. Maybe not probable, likely never provable, but it made sense somewhere deep inside, in the parts of me that had known her so well they didn’t require proof or reason. They just knew.

I should have been mad.

I was mad, but I should have been so mad I couldn’t feel anything else, but I wasn’t. Because it was also actually kind of funny. Desperate, for sure. And more than a little bit impressive.

I flung myself backward into the cushions. “Amber, you little devil,” I said, with a hint of a smile. “So conniving. You really did want all the power, didn’t you?”

I wondered if she ever realized she hadn’t been quite as powerful as she’d thought she’d been. Or that she might have had so much more if she hadn’t abused the power she did have. Seemed like that might have been a lesson she should have learned from Vilanakis.

Vilanakis!

I sat up abruptly. Reeve was going after Vilanakis because he thought he’d killed Amber. Reeve already had the odds against him, but when his motive was based in a lie, he had even less of a chance of coming out of the feud alive.

Cursing, I jumped from the couch to go grab my cell. Dammit, dammit, dammit. I had to try and stop him. And where the fuck was my phone?

The kitchen. Right.

I ran for it, chiding myself the whole way for not trying to stop him when I’d had the chance. I’d never wanted for him to get himself killed. I’d never wanted him to start a war. And I hadn’t told him… why?

I couldn’t think of the reasons now. All my emotions had been hazy then, like a thick fog had kept them shrouded and elusive. Now that I’d let her go, Amber wasn’t clouding my feelings. Everything was so much clearer. And I needed Reeve to be safe. I needed him in my life.

With phone in hand, I chose his name from my contacts and paced circles around my bedroom while I waited for it to ring.

It only rang once before going to voice mail.

“Fu-uck,” I said, drawing out the word as I hung up and redialed. Again, voice mail.

His house. I should call his house. Except I’d never had his house number, and there was no way it was listed. I’d have to go to his house instead. Even if he wasn’t there, his men would know how to reach him.

Swearing up a storm, I slipped on some shoes, and ran to the kitchen to grab my car keys from the hook by the fridge. I had no idea where my purse was so I decided to leave it, anxious to get to him as soon as possible.

In the hopes that he’d answer eventually, I redialed his number as I opened the door.

And then I froze.

Because there he was, standing right in front of me, his hair messy like he’d run his hand through it a thousand times and his eyes wide and warm the minute they locked with mine.

I dropped my hand from my ear, my mouth gaping.

“Hi,” he said cautiously.

His voice shocked me into action. “I was just calling you,” I said, clicking End on my cell.

With his forehead creased, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell. “Oh. It’s on airplane mode,” he said, pocketing it again. “Why were you calling me anyway?” Though wary, he was so obviously hopeful.

I was focused on his lips, the way they curved up with the slightest hint of a smile when he spoke. The way they were just barely parted, as if preparing for a kiss.

“Emily?”

I blinked, instinctively wetting my own lips. “Oh. To tell you not to go to Chicago.” But now I didn’t have to because he was here, in my threshold, looking sexy and smoldering with the most absolute perfectly kissable lips.

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