Page 21 of Filthy Little Lies

“No?”

“That’s right, no. While you’re working for me, you won’t be doing anything else. I can’t protect you if you’re on your own half the time.”

“How am I supposed to pay my bills if all I’m doing is working for you, for free?”

“You won’t have any bills.”

“You’re not making any sense. I have rent and electricity and car insurance⁠—”

“All of that’s taken care of. You’ll be staying with me, so no rent. And your car…that piece of shit was about to die, so I took care of it.”

“You took care of it?” I squeeze my eyes shut. “Why would you do any of that? I’m not your concern. I can stay here and do the work for you. I don’t need⁠—”

He brushes his fingertips across my jawline, distracting me. “You need a safe place to work from; that’s not here. And while I was able to get Ricci to agree to back off, that doesn’t mean you don’t have anyone else trying to track you down after you scammed them out of a lot of money.”

“I…how do I get you to understand I’m not doing that? I don’t want to do that. I want to stay in my own place.”

“In the twenty-four hours that I’ve known you, you’ve tried to con a mafia run pawn shop, you’ve toppled over a hundred- and fifty-pound bookcase that could have crushed you, and then you climbed across a roof and shimmied down a tree that could have also gotten yourself killed. You haven’t exactly shown me you’re able to keep yourself safe. And if you’re going to earn me back the money you’ve cost me, I need you alive.”

“Well, when you list it that way it sounds bad. But I’ve been on my own my entire life and I’ve done just fine. I don’t need you to protect me.” I raise my chin. “I don’t need anyone.”

He eyes me for a moment, like he’s sizing up a snack. “Fine. If you agree to live somewhere safe, you can stay on your own.”

Relief washes through me. Finally, he’s seeing some sense. “Yeah. Of course. I mean, I get what you’re saying. I can’t live up to my end of this deal if I’m not alive.” I try to laugh it off, the idea of me being killed, but it only seems to darken his mood further.

“Good.” He stands up. “Pack up what you want to bring, and I’ll have it brought the house this afternoon.”

He puts his hand out to me, and like the stunned lunatic he’s made me, I take it.

“What are you talking about? You just said I could stay here.”

“I said you could stay somewhere safe.” He leads me out of the bathroom, stopping in the living room. “You don’t even have a front door.”

CHAPTER 7

Savvy

At least he lets me sit in the passenger seat the second time he kidnapped me. I suppose it’s something to be grateful for, not having to roll around in a trunk where I’m sure more than one dead body has lain.

The sun is already setting by the time we arrive at his house, but I’m able to take in the massiveness of the house as we drive through the gates. I didn’t even know places like this existed in the city. Only two blocks down, apartment buildings tower over the streets, but here is a row of mansions, each surrounded by tall, wrought iron gates.

“I’m going to need my phone if I’m going to be doing work,” I say, once we’re inside the massive foyer. Since I’d been dragged from the garage to the second level when I arrived yesterday I hadn’t had time to take in the beauty of the house.

He drops his car keys into a dish and gestures for me to hand him my coat. Fall in Chicago has no predictability. Yesterday it was eighty-five and humid; today it’s barely hitting fifty-nine. Like with everything in life, it’s best to just roll with it.

“My phone?” I say again once he’s hung up my light jacket in the closet and walks toward the stairs. “I need my phone. And my iPad. You put it in the last suitcase. When will they be here?”

“Oh good! You found her. I was so worried.” An older woman rushes into the hallway from what I assume is the kitchen. She’s wearing an apron over a pair of black pants and a dark green blouse. Silver streaks through brown hair that’s pulled back into a braid.

“You knew I’d find her,” Gabriel says, a teasing chastisement in his tone. “She’ll be staying with me from now on. Savvy, this is Mrs. Neville. She’s here a few days a week and handles all the cooking. If you get hungry, she’ll feed you.”

“Hi.” I give a little wave, suddenly feeling awkward. He’s made me out to sound like some prized cattle he’s holding onto until he can bring it to market.

“Have you had dinner? I wasn’t sure when you’d be back, but we have the roast left from yesterday. I can warm it up.”

“Oh, I’m not hungry,” I say after a beat of silence passes, and I realize she’s waiting for me to say something. “I ate a little while ago.”

He eyes me. “The peanut butter and jelly sandwich you ate while you finished packing?”