Page 93 of Eighteen (18)

“I want to see Olivia.”

“You can’t.”

I look at him. “What do you mean?”

“It was part of the deal. No contact with her until there’s a complete investigation with Social Services. Weren’t you listening in there?”

“I was too busy worrying about being charged with drugging her, so no, sorry. I missed the legal jargon about them taking my only family member away.”

“Shannon,” he says, using that voice I’ve come to associate with his sexual requests. It makes my stomach turn. “You were almost implicated in a child endangerment case. You had her at a known drug house last night.”

“I was taking her home!”

“I get that,” he growls. “But there’s a procedure to these things.”

“Fuck your procedures,” I say. “I didn’t do anything wrong. I don’t ever do anything wrong, Mateo. So why the fuck do I always have to do penance for other people’s mistakes?”

He starts up the car without commenting and we stay angry and silent as we make our way back to his house. I don’t wait for him to get my door, just jump out and start walking down his driveway.

“Where the fuck are you going?”

“Home,” I snap.

“You can’t go home, Shannon. It’s a crime scene. They got a warrant last night to search for drugs. It’s taped off and you can’t go in.”

“Great.” I throw up my hands. “Just fucking great.” I want to scream so bad. I want to yell at the entire world right now.

“Just come inside.”

I laugh. “You think we’re still together?”

“Why wouldn’t we be?” he sneers.

He’s serious. He’s actually fucking serious. “You lied to me.”

“It was my job, Shannon.”

“Was I your job? Did you get to know me so you could bust Jason and Phil?”

I wait for the answer I so desperately need to hear, but it never comes.

“Great, that’s just great. You’ve been playing me all right. But not like an instrument.”

“That’s not true,” he says, reaching for my hand.

But I shake it off. “Then what part’s true? Did you know about Jason before we met?”

“Yeah.” He nods.

“So it is true. You used me, Mateo.”

“I didn’t use you, Shannon. Everything we had was real.”

“Except for the parts that weren’t, right? How could I ever believe you? Especially after you told me all those lies when we first met.”

“That was fantasy talk and you know it.”

“How do I know it? It’s a serious question. How the hell do I know which parts are true, which parts are lies, and which parts are fantasy? Did you really see me when I was walking to Bill’s to get food?”