Page 94 of Filthy Little Lies

“Now that it’s out he’s using fake cash for his wash, he’s got more trouble than he knows what to do with. I’m not discounting he might still want to come at us, but Lucian’s watching the situation. He’ll handle it if he needs to.” It’s one thing to purposely move forged money, but to play it off like it’s real puts a lot of people at a higher risk they probably wouldn’t take if they had the chance to opt out.

“Fine.”

I end the call. He can handle things or he won’t; either way I’m exactly where I need to be right now.

“Can I help you find something?” A man with a weak chin and barely-there mustache approaches me while I scan the bookshelves in the nonfiction section.

“I’m just browsing,” I say, plucking a book from the shelf. When he walks away, I glance at the cover. A Man’s Guide to Success. With an eye roll, I shove it back on the shelf and move to the next aisle.

“Gabriel.” Savvy rounds the corner. “What are you doing here?”

I cock my head, and she huffs.

“You can’t just keep showing up at my jobs.”

“Of all the times you’ve told me I can’t do something, how many times have you been right?” I take in the soft blush on her cheeks.

There’s something different about her, but I can’t pin it down. Her hair’s grown a little, but that’s not it. Same sweet vanilla-scented body wash, same beautiful eyes. Nothing’s changed, but something is off.

“Stop staring at me like that,” she admonishes and folds her arms over her chest.

“Like what?”

She shakes her head and looks away. “I’m being serious, Gabriel. I need these jobs.”

“You think I’d let them fire you?” She really hasn’t been paying enough attention, if she thinks I’ve come all this way to stand idle as someone hurts her.

“What are you going to do, buy the store?” She laughs, but it’s short-lived when she catches my expression. “You didn’t.”

“No. But if I have to, I will.”

She closes her eyes and sighs. “Gabriel⁠—”

“Sarah, everything okay?” Pseudo-mustache man peeks around the stacks.

“Yeah, Billy. Everything’s good. Just helping a customer,” she lies fluidly with a peppiness to her voice I’ve never heard. It’s fake and forced and not like her at all, but I suppose when she changed her name she needed to reinvent herself a little, too.

“Okay, just call if you need something.” He starts to leave but then adds. “Did you want me to grab that chicken sandwich for you again?”

“She’s busy for lunch,” I say before she can answer. She stiffens but doesn’t correct me. She’s still my good girl. She’s just a little further away than she used to be. I just need to reach her.

“Sarah?”

“No thanks on the chicken,” she says, then spins to face the books and pulls one out and hands it to me. “I think this is what you’re looking for.”

Billy pauses a moment, but then does the right thing and leaves us alone. He’s harmless enough, but if his eyes were hands, they’d be all over her ass. I might have decided to be patient for her, but that doesn’t mean I’m tolerating anyone touching what’s mine.

“Don’t you have business in Chicago? A job, a family to run?” She whispers the last bit, as though I’m afraid anyone in this store might overhear her.

“It’s all under control. I can stay here for as long as is needed.” I run my fingers along her cheekbone, dragging her hair behind her ear. “You look tired; have you been sleeping okay?”

She rolls her eyes. “I’m fine.”

I scrutinize her for another moment. “You need to eat. I’ll grab sandwiches. There’s a park on the next street. Meet me there.”

“You’re ordering me on a date?”

I lift a shoulder. “I’m offering lunch.”