Dark Shadows (Gia Santella Crime Thrillers Book 11), Kristi Belcamino [ereader with dictionary .TXT] 📗

I knew how much she hurt. I’d lost men I’d loved. Bobby. James. And now Nico.

I was so grateful for the love I’d shared with these three men.

But I knew better than to ever expect something like that again.

Deep down inside, I’d always known my destiny was to be a lone wolf.

I swallowed a lump in my throat thinking about this.

Pulling on a hoodie and baggy sweatpants over my underwear, I headed downstairs to look for Hannah.

I found her in a small sunroom off the main living room. She was sitting on a velvet love seat in the near dark, staring out the windows at nothing. I quickly stepped inside and closed the door behind me, then made my way to an armchair I could make out in the dim light streaming in the windows from the patio lights outside.

“I lost my boyfriend when I was about your age,” I said and paused. She didn’t say anything, but the sound of her sniffling had ceased. “He was the love of my life. But I didn’t realize that until the day he was taken from me.”

“Oh,” she said in an emotionless voice.

“He was the only guy I ever imagined having kids with. But he was murdered right after I told him I loved him,” I said and paused again.

I wondered if she would say something about the word “murdered,” but she remained silent.

“And the hardest part of all was that his murder was my fault.”

“What?” She said the word in a strangled voice. Guess that got her attention.

“The killer was trying to punish me.”

“Oh,” she said again, back to that flat monotone.

I sat there in the silence, willing her to say something, anything. It worked.

“Was he a good boyfriend?” she said in a stuffed-up voice.

“In what way?”

“Did he treat you good? Was he faithful? Did he flirt with your friends?”

Her voice was angry now. It was probably good that she was upset, but I wasn’t sure.

“Yes. Yes. No.”

She clamped her lips together.

“How about you answer those same questions for me,” I said.

“No. No. Yes.”

“Hmmm,” I said.

“Right?”

“So you have mixed feelings about his death,” I said. “You cared for him. But he wasn’t necessarily the best boyfriend for you.”

“Bingo.”

I was a little surprised by this harsh side of her. It was as if the insecure, shrinking woman I’d seen the night before was gone.

“That makes his loss even tougher.”

She burst into tears.

I threw my arms around her and let her sob into my embrace.

We both jumped at the sound of the door opening.

It was Conner.

“Sorry,” he said in a gruff voice. “Sabine was looking for you, Hannah.”

She jumped up. “Where is she?”

“In her bedroom.”

Then Hannah was gone.

I stood there and let out a loud sigh.

“This must be so hard on all of you,” I said.

He gave a wry grin. He had a whisky bottle in his hand. He took a slug of it and then handed it to me. I grabbed it and took my own long drink.

“Must suck for you to have all this fall into your lap.”

I shrugged. I opened my mouth to speak and then shut it again. I wanted to say, what else is fucking new? But I immediately realized that it would make it seem like his friend’s murder was my fault.

What I really wanted to know was who the fuck killed him? I had an idea but didn’t think it was possible. I thought about the conversation I’d overheard. Was Amanda really capable of murder or was it bluster?

Conner moved closer to me. His fingers lingered on mine as he took the bottle away. His head dipped, and his mouth, hot and urgent was on mine. His body pressed against me, and I responded without thinking. It had been a long, long time since I’d felt this way.

Thank God my cell phone rang right then. We both jumped.

It was Ryder.

“Just checking on you.”

“I’m fine,” I’m sure I sounded annoyed.

But I was partly relieved. I didn’t want to sleep with Conner. Not really.

Sabine walked in. She had on high heels and a bodycon white dress.

“We need to get out. Hannah needs to get out of this house. We’re all going into town. You guys want to come?”

I paused. Yes. I needed to get out of there. I needed some air.

“I’m in,” I said and walked past her. “Give me ten minutes to change.”

I heard Conner behind me. “Me, too.”

Downtown was hopping. The film festival kicked off the next day.

I’d nearly forgotten.

Conner, who had come with me in the Jeep, reminded me as we pulled into town behind the other vehicle with his friends in it. I sort of hated that he rode with me. It made it seem like we were a couple. Not interested.

After we parked, we walked along the promenade, scouting out clubs we might want to hit. I could have cared less, but Amanda said you couldn’t be seen at the wrong club in Cannes or it might mark you for life, especially if the paparazzi caught you there and immortalized it with a photograph.

I was too stunned to respond. How could she even think this way less than twenty-four hours after her friend was murdered? Conner took my arm. “Amanda will never change. When her brother died in a car crash in high school, she still went to prom that weekend. I think it’s how she protects herself. She turns her emotions on and off.”

“It’s pretty fucked up,” I said.

He didn’t respond.

Meanwhile, Hannah was decidedly not turning her emotions off. She trailed behind the group with tears streaming down her face. Sabine held her hand. That was a true friend. Not the unfeeling bitch she’d known since kindergarten. Again, I reminded myself it was none of my business.

We sat down at a sidewalk café for a quick drink “to fortify ourselves” as Owen put it. I was surprised that the three women sat together. I sat with Conner and Owen and Clint.

After a few minutes, two handsome dark-skinned men