“I’m trying to do right by you,” I repeat. Dammit, every waking thought I have is about her these days.

“Right by me is not rejecting me. Right by me is not dictating how I’m supposed to feel. I love you, Reed. I don’t need to be told that I’m too young to know my own feelings. Maybe there is someone else out there that I might love, but I don’t care about that person. I love you. I want to be with you. I want to wait for you. What do you want?”

Her fierce declaration makes it impossible for me to stick to my guns. My own declaration bursts out of my mouth before I can stop it.

“You. Us. Forever.”

“Then don’t push me away. Don’t tell me how to feel, what to think, who to love. If you’re really taking this plea deal, then you can’t be too embarrassed to see me. You can’t stop writing me. You can’t turn away from my visits. This is our countdown. This is our wait. Every day brings us closer together. We either do this together or not at all.” Her blue eyes flash like molten sapphires. “So what’ll it be?”

Man up, is what she’s really telling me. Man up and act like a member of our team. The Ella and Reed team.

I grab her chin with my free hand and kiss her hard. “I’m all in, baby.”

Then I rip her expensive dress off her body and show her exactly how in I’m going to be. For the rest of our freaking lives.

33

Ella

On Saturday morning, Steve announces that we’re moving back to the penthouse. Today.

“Today?” I echo dumbly, setting down my glass of orange juice.

He leans his elbows on the kitchen counter and beams at me. “Well, tonight, actually. Isn’t this great news? Now we won’t be stuck in these five rooms anymore.”

Truthfully, the idea of leaving does sound enticing. Living in this hotel has grown old, which is something I would’ve never said a year ago, but Steve’s right—we do need more space from each other. Steve and Dinah have started to fight constantly. While I might’ve had a trace of sympathy for her at the beginning, I’m sick at the sight of her. Not only did she pay off Ruby Myers, but I know she’s involved in Brooke’s death somehow. I just can’t prove it, damn it.

Reed told Callum about my suspicions, but so far Callum’s army of investigators have come up with nothing. They need to find it soon, because if Reed has his way, he’ll be signing that plea deal on Monday morning and going to prison the moment the ink is dry.

Maybe the penthouse holds some clue.

Steve tilts his head. “What do you say? Are you ready to move out?”

He gives me a hopeful, puppy smile that reminds me so much of Easton. Steve’s not all bad. He tries hard, I guess. I can’t help but smile back. “Yeah. That works.”

“Good. Why don’t you go pack a suitcase with your necessities? The hotel will send the rest of the stuff over. Dinah’s called to get the place cleaned before we arrive.”

I’m about to answer when my phone buzzes. Reed’s calling, and I discreetly cover the screen with my hand so Steve can’t see the display. “It’s Val,” I lie. “I bet she wants to know how Winter Formal went.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” Steve says absently.

“I’ll talk to her upstairs so I don’t bother you,” I say before darting out of the suite’s kitchen.

He nods, off in his own head to another topic. Steve’s biggest flaw is that if the conversation doesn’t involve him, he quickly loses interest.

Once I’m alone in my room, I answer Reed’s call before it goes to voicemail. “Hey,” I say softly.

“Hey.” He pauses. “I spoke to Dad about the waitress. Figured I should let you know.”

“The waitress—oh,” I say, realizing he means Ruby Myers. My pulse instantly speeds up. “What did he say? Do we have proof that someone paid her off?”

“She took out a loan,” he says flatly. “Her mom died unexpectedly and had a small life insurance policy. Myers used that to put a down payment on the car. No signs of any wrongdoing there.”

I swallow a frustrated scream. “That can’t be true. Dinah all but admitted she paid Myers off.”

“Then she did it in a sneaky way, because I’ve got a copy of the loan papers.”

“God, I know Dinah’s involved in this.” Panic ripples through me. Why aren’t these investigators making any progress? There has to be something that doesn’t point in Reed’s direction.

“Even if she did, Dinah’s plane didn’t land until hours after Brooke’s time of death.”

Tears fill my eyes and tighten my throat. I slap a hand over my mouth, but a muffled sob filters through.

“I have to go,” I manage to say, my voice only wobbling a little. “Steve wants me to pack so we can be back in the penthouse tonight.”

“All right. I love you, baby. Call me when you get settled.”

“I will. I love you, too.”

I hang up quickly and then bury my face into my pillow. I close my eyes and let the tears flow, just for a minute, maybe two. Then I tell myself to stop feeling sorry for myself and get up to start packing.

Brooke died in that penthouse. There has to be some kind of clue there.

And I intend to find it.

* * *

Hours later, Steve hustles me into the lobby of the swanky high rise. Dinah’s already inside waiting for the elevator. She barely said a word on the ride over. Is she nervous about revisiting the scene of her crime? From the corner of my eye, I watch her avidly for any signs of guilt.

“I’m going to put you in the guest room,” Steve babbles as the three of us step into the elevator. “We’ll have it redecorated, of course.”

I frown. “Isn’t that where…” I lower my voice, even though we’re in a cramped space and Dinah can hear every word, “Brooke was staying before she, ah, died?”

Steve frowns back. “Was she?” He turns to Dinah.

She nods stiffly and answers in an even stiffer voice. “She sold her apartment after Callum proposed, so she was staying at the penthouse until after their wedding.”

“Oh. I see. I didn’t realize that.” Steve looks back at me. “Are you all right staying in that room, Ella? Like I said, we’ll have it redecorated.”