Page 69 of Filthy Little Lies

She smirks. “Or you can just have your mobster drive you down there.” She throws up her hands. “I know, I know, he’s not your mobster—except he is, and you’re just too afraid to believe it.”

“I’m not afraid.”

She scrutinizes my expression for a long beat. “You used to be better at lying. I think this man is ruining your skills.”

“I’m not afraid,” I say again, but I hear the little waver this time and clear my throat. “I have a tickle, that’s why it comes out like that.”

She sighs. “Okay.”

“So, what time do you leave in the morning?”

“I’m planning to get on the road by ten, but I can’t pick up the truck until eight, so it just depends on how long it takes me to load up.”

“Is Tony coming to help?”

She deadpans. “No. Tony is definitely not coming to help. He called me five times this morning demanding I go with him tomorrow night to the tables. At first, I thought he was just being stubborn, but then I realized he was too high to remember he’d already called me.”

My heart sinks. “He needs help.”

She points at me with her eyebrows raised. “You are not caving.”

“I’m not.” I put my hands up. “I’m saying he needs help with the drugs.”

“Oh.” She nods. “Yeah, he does. But unless he wants to get clean, it won’t matter what we say or do. You know that, hun.”

We’ve been down this road with him a few times already, and she’s right.

“Well, that’s it for the packing. Let’s go get ice cream.” She waggles her eyebrows and snaps up her purse. “I’m going to miss the corner creamery.”

“Out of everything in Chicago, it’s the small ice cream parlor on the corner you’re going to miss? Not the pizza or the hot dogs?”

She scrunches her face, as she locks her apartment. “I haven’t been able to eat hot dogs since the Millers. Hot dogs every night for dinner—at least for us fosters. Their own kids got whatever they were having.” She holds the front door of the building open for me.

“You know I’m not leaving you, right?” She asks a few minutes into our walk.

“Yeah. I know.”

She stops and pulls me to face her. “No. Seriously, Sav. I know you got this hangup that everyone leaves you, but I’m not leaving you. I’m just moving.”

“Away,” I add with a grin. “I’m kidding, Cassie. I know you’re not leaving me. You’ve moved before. You’ll be back in a year; you’ll miss the pizza.”

She stares at me like she wants to tell me something. A big weight seems to be pressing down on her all of a sudden, and I don’t know why I didn’t see it before.

“Cassie, if you were in trouble. You’d tell me, right?” I ask once we get moving again.

She nudges me with her shoulder. “Of course I would.”

The ice cream shop is freezing inside, so we grab our one scoops and take them back outside. Even with the fall breeze, it’s more comfortable out in the sun. She pokes at her ice cream with her spoon while I take the extra scoop I bought to the SUV idling nearby.

I knock on the window, waiting for Damien to lower it.

“Thought you might want a snack.” I hand him the small cup. “You look like a Rocky Road kinda guy.”

He looks down at the nuts and chocolate and marshmallows. A soft smile tugs at his lips.

“You’re welcome, big guy.” I wink then jog back to the table with Cassie who is eyeing the exchange.

“No Lucian today?” She’s trying to sound casual but misses the mark entirely.