Before I said a word, she read my decision. A wide grin appeared on her face. “Yeah?”

I nodded. “Yeah,” I said to both of them, “I want to do it.”

Erica dropped the coffee cup on the table, letting the liquid spill out, but she didn’t care. She thrust a fist in the air. “Yes!”

Wanker only frowned. He only slowly put his glasses back on, sliding them up his nose.

I felt good about this. I was doing the right thing…right?

Erica wanted to move as fast as possible. The media was already going full steam about me, and more and more reporters would be arriving throughout the day. The storm was going to triple, but she didn’t need to tell me that.

I already lived through that nightmare.

After she emailed the camera guy, he gave us a time and location to meet. Everything was being set up on his end. He would be bringing along a news reporter, but she swore to secrecy, and it was someone Erica trusted. If Erica was okay with the person’s presence, I was, too. I was giving her all my trust.

As we were getting ready to leave the apartment, I checked my phone for the fifth time in the last few hours.

No call or message from Kian.

I wasn’t sure if that was good or not, but I was still going to do this. I was done hiding. I was done doing what others wanted. Telling my side, this was what I wanted to do. It was what I had to do. It was my way of fighting for my life again, or at least trying.

An hour later, Erica’s phone buzzed with a text. The other reporter and camera guy were sending a car, but the same instant she read those words to us, a commotion sounded from the street. It had been building the longer we sat inside, but I was ignoring it. I didn’t want to think what it meant.

When a police siren ripped through the air, I knew it was happening all over again.

I was back there in the police station as they carted Edmund’s body off. Kian was being questioned in a separate room, and I was taken back to the hospital for more tests.

A detective opened the door, and they were all there—media and people from the town. I felt their hate. I felt it instantly.

“Kian Maston is a good boy!” someone yelled at me. “Why did you ruin his life?”

“Were you sleeping with both of them?”

“God’s not going to save you. You’re going to hell.”

“You’re the murderer!”

Once Kian’s name and face had been released to the press, my life had ceased to be.

Hearing that siren, I knew why they were there, and I went numb. I turned it all off.

Wanker went to the patio and peeked out. He frowned back to us. “It’s completely packed. There are two cop cars downstairs—”

The apartment intercom buzzed.

Wanker stopped, turning to it. “Well…” His hand rose to take his glasses off, and his other hand raked through his hair.

He didn’t say anything else.

Erica glanced sharply to me. “What do I do?”

Everything was dull for me, but I answered, “Let ’em in.”

They knew I was there.

Snark texted earlier, asking if I went back to my old apartment. I was right. The word was out, and I replied with a, Yes.

His next text came.

I sent you a gift. Let them in. They’re shadowing you for the day. That’s all I could get them for.

I asked where he was, but he didn’t respond. The two police officers were the ones who informed me that Snark had been called back to federal headquarters. That was all they knew and all they could say. I was conflicted. Snark would hate that I was with Kian now, but I also wanted to talk to him about the interview. I needed Snark’s approval or maybe just his reassurance.

One officer added, “Someone tipped off your location. That circus is only going to double the longer you stay. You have somewhere else to hide?”

“Yes,” Erica said before she disappeared into her bedroom. When she came back out, she dumped three bags at their feet. The bags were packed to the max, protruding out. She caught my look and lifted a shoulder. “I have no idea when I can come back here. You heard Kian. I’m a part of this story now, too. I figured we’d have to leave sometime. I wanted to be prepared.” Her arms folded over her chest. “I’m ready to go. And I know our first stop.”

Erica went to the door first, and her bags remained behind. As she led the way out, Wanker picked up one. The second officer picked up a second, and I took the third. If anything, I figured I could use it to shove people back or block anything thrown at me.

We got down to the main floor and were heading for the front door, when we were stopped once again. Susan appeared with a camera in her hand. She pointed it at me.

I had two seconds to brace myself.

“Jordan Emory, are you in love with Kian Maston?”

Erica started for her. “It was you, wasn’t it?”

Wanker cursed under his breath beside me, and he shifted so that I was behind him.

Erica lifted her hand, as if to grab for the camera, but Susan dodged her. She backtracked, saying, “Come on, Erica. I have to do something. The paper is being laughed at. We had her right under our nose. Did you know?” She swung the camera to Erica, and her finger pressed a button. She was zooming in on Erica. “Have you been lying for her the entire time?”

A guttural growl came from Erica, sounding from the bottom of her throat. “Back off, Susan.”

Wanker jerked forward two more steps. At the same time, the police officer who was behind me moved in front with a hand extended toward me. He was holding me back without touching me. The other officer was watching the exchange.

Wanker snorted. “The text to Jake. It wasn’t a text, was it?”

Susan’s nostrils flared. Her eyes were dilated, like she was on something. Her cheeks were flushed, and the ends of her hair were wet from sweat.

I saw it then. She thought she had the scoop.

She was wearing a smug smirk. “I’d been calling Jake the entire time. He doesn’t know what he did, but he didn’t reject my call. He accepted it and stuffed his phone into his pocket, or I’m assuming he did. I could hear everything. Imagine my surprise when I heard her voice.” She pointed the camera to me, lifting it higher to see me over the officer’s shoulders. “And I heard Kian’s voice, too. Where is he?” She raised her tone, sending the question to me. “He was here before. Where is he now?”