Little Liar (The Web of Silence Duet, #2)

by Leigh Rivers

My mom just hit me. So did my bio-mom. Why do they keep fucking hitting me? My confusion vanishes the second her words register with me. Did she just say Olivia was crying because of me? I pull my phone out and try to call her again, but there’s no reply. The security guard walks out of the building and locks the door, so I know she’s not in there—the lights are all out too. Fuck. Checking the cameras in our house while I cross the road, I don’t see her, and no movement has been detected. Then I open my other app—the one I haven’t used since she came back to me—and check her old place, then stop when I reach my bike. She’s there. In her apartment. Not ours. I only have one camera left in there. It’s facing the front door, just above a picture of the family, hidden, so she’ll never know it’s there. Her bag is by the door. Fuck. What did I do? I pocket my phone, throw my leg over the bike, shove my head in the helmet, and set off to her apartment. I still own the one across from her. It has too much shit in it for me to give up right now. If she knew about all the pictures, TV screens, lists of names I hunted—people who even as much as looked at her—she would lose her shit with me. I managed to take the ones I still need to the house, but not the rest. She’d faint if she knew just how much I was buried in her privacy. The cops would pull me over if they saw how fast I’m going, especially in the pouring rain—I zip between cars, squeezing the throttle to gain even more speed u...

The fact he got so worried makes my heart melttt