All the Secrets We Keep (Quarry Book 2) Read online

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN Theresa awoke in darkness, noticing for the first time that her head, which had felt like it was going to explode for the past two days, actually only ached a little bit. Her body still creaked with pain, but it felt more like she’d been run over by a bicycle than a tractor trailer. She felt sticky and gross from sweat, her pajamas clinging to her. For the first time in three days, she thought she might actually be able to take a shower. It was a mistake. She’d eaten next to nothing since coming down with this, and as soon as she leaned over to turn on the hot water, the world spun as dizziness overwhelmed her. She sank onto her knees next to the claw-foot tub, knowing there was no way she was going to be able to get herself in and out of it without falling. Theresa had not cried—really cried—for a long time. There’d been a few bouts of tears when things ended with Wayne—mostly of the self-castigating sort—because she’d allowed herself to get close enough to him fo

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT “You’re going next door again?” Galina looked up from her laptop, her reading glasses perched low on her nose. She’d been typing away there for an hour or so. Ilya hadn’t asked her what she was doing. “She’s still sick?” “She’s feeling better, but yeah, I’m going over.” He held up a takeout rotisserie chicken and sides he’d picked up from the grocery store. “We’re going over the menus. Talking about staffing. That sort of thing.” Galina made a noise low in her throat. “Hmm.” “Hey, Mom. You know, we could use your advice on some things. About the diner,” Ilya said. He wasn’t expecting her to look so affronted, but she did. Deliberately, his mother removed her glasses and looked down her nose at him. She closed the laptop lid. “The diner? Why on earth?” “You’ve worked in one,” he said. Her scowl flashed into something else for a moment before she smoothed her expression. “I’m not going to come waitress for you, Ilya.” “I’m not asking you to be a waitress. I just thou

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE For the first time in nearly two weeks, Theresa felt good enough to put on clothes that were not pajamas and throw in a load of laundry, run the vacuum, and clean up the piles of books, magazines, and empty tissue boxes that littered the den near the couch where she’d been spending most of her time. Her in-box had been filling up with messages from her freelance clients, and while she’d been able to keep on top of a lot of it, there were some things only in-person meetings could handle. There were also the long lists she’d been making with Ilya to take care of. There was also Ilya, in general. She paused while stripping the sheets from her bed, her arms full of cotton, to bury her face in the pile and let out a muffled squeal. It did not turn into a bout of throat-ripping coughs, so that was a relief. It did end up with her turning to sit on the bare mattress to fend off a wave of dizziness that she had to admit had nothing to do with her recent illness. It was the

  CHAPTER FORTY “So, we need to have a little talk.” Those were never the words a guy liked to hear from the woman he was dating. Or maybe dating. Or wanted to date. Theresa smiled at him from across the kitchen table. “Ilya?” “Not about the diner, huh?” “It’s about us. And Dina Guttridge.” He groaned. “Shit. Look, it was a stupid thing that happened once, two years ago. You can’t get more stereotypical than that whole thing. I delivered a package to her that they’d dropped off by accident at my house, she invited me in for an iced tea . . .” “Spare me the details, please.” Theresa held up a hand. “I don’t care.” “No?” He wanted to be relieved but eyed her cautiously. “I don’t care about your previous poor judgment. No.” Ilya blew out a small breath. “Okay . . . ?” “She came over here earlier, warning me off you. Because you were not to be trusted.” Theresa raised an eyebrow and leaned back in her chair. God, she looked gorgeous. Hair pulled up, minimal makeup, tight T-shirt, and jeans.

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE It had been months since he’d lived in this house alone, and it still startled him a little to walk into the living room to find the television on and his mother on the couch. Most of the time she also had her laptop with her, typing away at whatever it was she’d found to keep herself occupied. Tonight she had the sound turned down low enough that she couldn’t have been paying much attention to the black-and-white movie scrolling across the screen. “I heard from your brother. He sent pictures,” she said without looking up. “Yeah. I got them, too. Looks like they’re having fun.” It had been a little hard to see Alicia’s smile, his brother’s arm around her. She’d never looked that happy with him, not that he could ever remember. It bothered him, although he didn’t want it to. His mother tipped her head to look at him over the rims of her reading glasses. “Where’ve you been off to all day long?” “Working.” She laughed softly. “It’s good for you, to have something to do.

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO The notice came in Theresa’s e-mail from the credit reporting company she’d been subscribing to. A credit inquiry, made in her name, had triggered it. It had been refused, thank God, although that only reminded her of how long it would be until she could get credit on her own. “If I can’t get a credit card because of this mess you put me in, what made you think you could get one? What made you think it would be anything close to okay for you to pull this shit again, Dad? Why would you do this?” Theresa tossed the printout she’d made of the message onto his shabby kitchen table, highlighting the part pointing out that her score had dipped once more. Her father gave her a pleading look. “I was behind on some bills—” “Join the club!” She whirled on him, sick with fury. Devastated. Hating him but not enough. Not quite enough. “I told you. If you ever pulled this again, I would report you. I would turn you in to the police.” “No, no, honey, I’m sorry.” He held up his hands

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE All their hard work had—well, perhaps not—come to fruition. Not yet. But they were well on the way. The staff had been hired, the menu perfected, the diner redecorated. There were a few glitches to work out, but that was the purpose of the soft opening. Theresa bent over the desk in the tiny diner office to go over her checklist. She was going to forget something, she knew it. “You okay?” Ilya came up behind her to press a kiss to the nape of her neck in the spot guaranteed to send a thrill all through her. “Nervous?” Theresa turned to kiss his mouth, her fingers linked loosely behind his neck. “A little. Not too much.” “You don’t look nervous. You look gorgeous. Like you should be on the menu under dessert.” He nibbled at her neck, making her giggle and twist away from him. “We’re not alone,” she said. “And, hey, only dessert? I thought I would at least be a full entrée with two sides, including your choice of soup or salad.” “Super salad. Comes with a cape.” Ilya

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR Galina and Barry had shown up at the same time. Ilya had seen them come through the front doors together. They didn’t look like they were making this a date, and so long as neither of them made a scene, he wasn’t going to complain. He was more relieved than he realized he’d be to see her. “Mom.” He kissed her cheek, noting the faint scent of perfume and the lipstick she wore. She’d dressed up, and he wasn’t sure why that made him feel sentimental, that she’d made an effort for him, but it did. He shook Barry’s hand. “Glad you could make it.” Ilya took his mother to Niko and Alicia’s table to take a seat, and Barry excused himself to use the restroom. Ilya, relaxing a little as he looked around at everyone enjoying themselves, decided to play the part of restaurant owner and walk around to make sure everything was all right. “I don’t want you here!” Theresa’s voice rang out, turning heads. Ilya’s stomach sank as he turned, already knowing what he’d see. He hadn’t expe

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE “We had a nice little thing going, Barry and I. I took the pills. He sold them. Eventually, he recruited that girl to help him. I told him it was a bad idea,” Galina added with a weary wave of her hand. All of them were hovering in a combination of exhaustion, rage, grief, and another entire collection of emotions Niko couldn’t begin to describe. The staff had been sent home. The doors locked. Ilya had broken out a bottle of champagne, but the rest of them had switched to coffee or nothing at all. “He didn’