The Fortieth Secret - Dead Men Tell No Tales

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“Bad Girls Have Bad Secrets.”

The Fortieth Secret —
Dead Men Tell No Tales

The silence that followed Shane's reply didn't last long, before he dumped the bottle on the counter and said, "Don't know why he was killed; maybe he pissed Pérez off or something, but at least he's out of the way now. One danger down."

My gaze flickered to Logan who clucthed the edge of the sofa and blinked a few more times, eyes flickering to me once more. I couldn't read his expression, never being good at it, but he appeared to be in shock.

"Anyway, don't stop whatever you were doing on my account. I'll be in the room, napping." Shane winked at me before he headed for his bedroom, but stopped in his tracks when a rapid knock came from the door. He sighed, "Can we ignore that?"

The knock came again, frantic enough for everyone to turn toward the door. Shane opened up, taking a step back when Rabekah walked in, dragging a boy behind her; her brother Jaylen. Her eyes flickered over to us, frowning deeply as she pointed at Logan. "You, pretty boy—" she gestured to the door, "— scram."

I glared, while Logan stood to his feet, frowning, "Uh, sure," he mumbled, not completely registering what was happening.

"No need to be rude, Bekkie," Shane muttered while I stood to my feet, and grabbed hold of Logan's hand.

"Don't call me Bekkie," she said, glaring, before looking at Logan, "Didn't mean to be rude, but it's urgent." 

I lead Logan out, eyeing Jaylen who looked scared out of his wits— I wasn't sure if he was terrified of his sister, Shane, or something else, but he tensed as I passed by. After shutting the door, I let go of Logan's hand and mumbled out an apology for him having to leave so rudely, but he shook his head and, with a troubled gaze, grabbed my hand.

"Vicky, wait. I didn't kill him, I swear I never," He whispered frantically, "I blocked off his airway and he fell unconscious, so I dragged him behind the building. He was alive, I checked and then I ran off and —"

"Myles." I laid my palm against his chest and stepped closer, "I know. You don't have to tell me again."

He exhaled quietly, shoulders sagging as he closed his eyes, laying his forehead against my shoulder for a moment, his hand gently squeezing my opposite shoulder.  My gaze lowered as my abdomen clenched, butterflies coming to life in my stomach. "Thank you for believing me," he said, tilting my face back and brushing his lips over my forehead.

I dug into my pocket and retrieved my pocket knife, holding it out to him. "Take this."

"I've got that knife in the car—"

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