Suri looks confused. She shakes her head, and there’s no mistaking the concern on her face. Cross notices it, too, and he sighs. “Everything is fine. I’m doing fine,” he tells her. “I just want a minute to talk to Liz—alone.”
After shooting me a clueless look, she steps into the hall, and I’m alone with Cross.
“What’s wrong?” I step slightly closer to him, crumbling under the weight of his horrible, accusing gaze.
“Why did you do it?” he asks hoarsely.
“Do what?”
He swallows, and for the first time he looks upset instead of mad. “Why did you think that I would be okay with that?”
Obviously he knows I went to Love Inc. I feel like a kid getting scolded by my dad, and I have no choice but to feign cluelessness. I widen my eyes like the liar I am. “Okay with what?”
“So you’re going to deny it?”
“Deny what?”
“You…sold yourself. For me!” Cross steps toward me, and I notice his limp. His face still looks the same. Except colder. “My father told me. You know how he feels about Vegas. He’s got spies there. Lizzy, tell me what would make you do a thing like that.” His voice cracks as his mouth goes soft and unsteady, like he might cry.
“Why do you think?” I manage when I find my voice. “I couldn’t stand to see you in that awful place! And,” I add quickly, “I hardly need to be a virgin. What’s the point? At twenty-three, it’s almost a joke.”
He opens his mouth, looking anguished, and I hold up my hand. “It went just fine, Cross. I’m okay. Right here, in one piece.”
“You went home with Hunter West.” His voice is soft fury—and it makes me mad.
“What do you have against him?”
“He fucks Priscilla Heat. Don’t you know that, Lizzy? Don’t you care?”
I can’t say anything to that. It’s not my secret to tell, so instead I say, “Do you believe everything you hear?”
“I saw them that night. They were having sex before the party. Did he tell you that?”
“I didn’t ask.”
“So then you don’t care.” His mad face crumples into hurt. Frustration. “What is it about him?”
I still don’t have the answer to that question, and I definitely don’t want to talk about it with Cross. “I’ve got a better idea: Why don’t you finally tell me why you hate Priscilla Heat.”
“She fucked my father,” Cross says bluntly. I blink, and he rubs his eyes with his right hand. “I told you that he had affairs.”
“With her?” He chose Priscilla Heat over Cross’s beautiful mother? My mouth hangs open.
“Yeah, tell me about it.” Cross rolls his eyes. “He likes hookers.”
What pops out of my mouth next is unplanned. It’s only meant to be a thought, but I guess it’s so powerful it escapes. “One of them was Missy King.”
Cross’s eyes widen. “What do you know about her?”
I bite my lip, not sure what to say now that I’ve divulged that I know something. That was stupid. I don’t want to point anything back toward Hunter, so I shrug. “What do you know?” I ask him.
“What do you know?” he snaps.
I hug myself, feeling stupid, but I’ve already put my foot in my mouth. Might as well keep going now. “Is that why you and your dad don’t talk? Is that the secret you found out last year? That he was seeing an escort, and she disappeared?”
Cross’s eyes squeeze shut, and my heart pounds—hard.
“It is, isn’t it?” Holy shit, this is big news. I fumble for the other name I heard in Hunter’s conversation with his father. “Cross, have you ever heard of someone named Lockwood?”
He frowns and shakes his head. “Who is that?”
“What about Jim Gunn?”
He blinks slowly, his face losing all its color. “How do you know that name?” he asks hoarsely.
“I heard he dated Missy King.”
Cross swallows, wrapping one arm around his stomach. “You don’t need to say that, Lizzy.”
“Why not?”
He gives me a sharp look that makes me feel like I’m being warned. “Just don’t say it. Don’t ask me about it. Sometimes there’s stuff you don’t need to know. Do you get that?”
His face is deadly serious, and I almost feel like I’m in some kind of crime drama. I bite my lip, and for a long second, I consider letting it lie. But then the stern look on his face starts looking kind of...fearful.
“Cross—what’s going on? Do you know something bad?” He shakes his head, shutting his eyes instead of answering. “How do you know Jim Gunn? Did he have something to do with Missy King disappearing?”
My question seems to hit Cross like a punch. He bends at the waist, holding his head. “How do you know this shit, Elizabeth?”
“So he did?” My heart beats so hard, I feel almost ill.
Cross looks at me through his hands, and when he speaks, his voice is ragged. “Suri told you, didn’t she? She told you what I said about the guy I saw who was messing with my bike. I was out of it—all fucked up on Dilaudid for my neck.”