I feel my cheeks flush. Rafe told me himself—messages.
But Branden’s tone is way too smug to be referring to something strictly platonic in nature.
“Look,” he snaps. I crane my neck back despite my better judgment, in time to see him withdraw a handful of crumpled papers from his pocket. At a glance, all I can make out is walls of text. And…
Images. One, in particular, makes me freeze in place—a woman bared from the neck down.
“We need to talk,” Branden says, sounding miles away.
You need to scream, the logical part of me warns. Run. But I can’t stop staring at the pages in his grasp—those pictures.
They trigger a milieu of different emotions in me, almost too many to explore in full. Disgust. Dread. Familiarity.
But fear wins out. Twisting on my heel, I try to wrench my arm free. “Let go of me—”
“How soon before your little friend gets tossed into a dumpster next?” he warns. “Or even you? I’m trying to help you, Hannah. Fuck! Be quiet.”
His hand falls over my mouth, triggering a wave of pain. I squirm, but he only presses harder, his head cocked, his jaw tight. Soon I realize why—a smattering of footsteps echo off the nearby walls, increasingly loud.
“Is anyone there?” the officer questions again, sounding alarmingly close this time.
Cautious footsteps creep toward this part of the alley, and before I know it, Branden’s already dragged me further away.
A van parked near the main street is his destination, but I don’t recognize it. A rental? Without explaining, he wrenches open the passenger-side door and shoves me forward.
“Get in.”
I barely manage to catch myself on the rim of the door. “No.” Craning my neck, I hunt for any sign of the officer. If he’s still within earshot, he’ll hear me. “Help—”
“Fine,” Branden warns as the shout leaves my throat. “I didn’t want to scare you, but you leave me no choice. You think it’s a coincidence that Rafael Wei-Shen went after you?” My expression must give him exactly what he wants—doubt. He laughs coldly, shaking his head. “Oh no, Hannah. I tried to tell you once, but you wouldn’t listen—he knows damn well who you are. The fucker’s been blackmailing me over it. What? You don’t believe me? Here’s the proof.”
He withdraws that handful of pages and shoves them beneath my nose.
“That same asshole has been talking to the dead girl,” he says. “Take a good look, Hannah. This is the kind of monster you let into your bed.”
Every ounce of logic I possess warns me not to look, but I’m already scanning the top page, anyway. The exchange reads like a typical correspondence between acquaintances. That is until a series of images creep into the conversation, one by one. The star barely shows her face, but I can guess her identity from her dark hair and pale skin. My chest clenches, my heart pounding with recognition.
Faith.
Whoever she messaged, she sent him images of her face. Her breasts. More…
“You want to know about Rafael Wei-Shen?” Branden taunts as my cheeks catch fire at the sight of every sordid image I come across. “Well, he’s had a vendetta against me ever since I busted him for dealing a year ago. He pulled some strings and got off on probation, but he’s had it out for me ever since. Enough to set me up for a suspension and fuck my little sister while he was at it. Don’t think for a second that he didn’t know who you were when he picked you out.”
I replay my first meeting with Rafe over and over. The way he looked at me then. How he had singled me out, haunting my footsteps ever since.
Maybe his very first boast to me held the truth all along. “I want to know what makes a little rabbit like you so damn hard she doesn’t flinch when a man presses a knife to her throat.”
All along, he could have known exactly who that monster was…
“You know I’m right, Hannah,” Branden says as if reading my mind. “I’ve always been the only one you can trust. I know you better than anyone.”
But the Hannah he’s referring to isn’t proud or mysterious. She’s a world apart from the figure Rafe sees. She pretends to be a captive, but her own lies form the shackles holding her back.
Gritting my teeth, I try to deny it. “You’re lying.”
“I’m not. The worst part is that you know I’m not. You were dumb enough to think he wanted you, Hannah?” Scoffing, he snatches the pages from me and tightens his grip on my arm. “I’m the only person who will ever care about you. Who has ever cared about you. Now get in the goddamn van.”
He shoves me into the seat so hard I lose my balance. Clawing at the door frame, I try to get out, but I’m too slow. Before I know it, he’s slamming the door after me, nearly smashing my bag in the process. When I tug on the handle, it’s already locked.
My wide-eyed reflection watches me from the window glass, waiting for my next move. But I’m frozen. The panic I know I should feel is dulled by sheer confusion. What was Rafe’s real motive if everything Branden says is true? To use me to get back at Branden?
Or use me in another way. Could he have been the one to plant Faith’s hair clip after all?
No. I shake my head to banish the doubt and try the door again, fumbling for the button to unlock it. A door does open, but it’s the driver’s side.
“Don’t be stupid,” Branden warns as he climbs behind the steering wheel. “We’re just going to talk. You’re going to listen and give me the respect I
