I thought someone was following us.

I couldn’t be sure, but there was a red Honda Accord behind us that seemed to be on our tail as we left the golf course and headed for Liam’s parents’ house. After we’d gotten dressed, we’d left the club, not meeting back up with Malcolm and Annabelle on the course. As far as I knew Liam hadn’t told his parents we were leaving, or that we would meet them back at the house. Instead, he’d made a phone call to Gustav, instructing him to gather our things from our room and drop them off at Liam’s parents’ house.

“Are the… are there still guards following us?” I asked, glancing in the side view mirror of the rental car that Liam was driving. The Accord was too far away for me to see who was behind the wheel.

“Yes,” Liam said.

“What kind of cars are they in?”

“They drive cars that are intending to blend in with the surroundings.”

“What the hell does that mean?” I asked.

But Liam didn’t answer. He seemed tense, his gaze fixed on the road in front of us, his shoulders pulled back, his jaw set. I’d been hoping that what had happened between us in that locker room would have given him a chance to work out some of his aggression and made him more relaxed.

Instead, he was moodier than ever.

I glanced in the rearview mirror. I didn’t see the Honda Accord anymore, and I told myself there was no way we were being followed. And unless I was sure, there was no way I was going to bring it up to Liam. If Liam thought we were being followed, he’d probably start putting new rules on me. Instead of just handcuffing me at night, he’d probably start handcuffing me to him all the time.

I imagined the two of us showing up to his father’s fancy party handcuffed together, and I bit my lip to keep from laughing and ended up snorting.

“Something funny?” Liam asked.

“Sort of.”

“What?”

“You wouldn’t get it.”

He frowned and started to say something, but before he could, his phone rang, the sound echoing through the black Porsche we were in. The rental car had been delivered to us at the golf course, right after we’d gotten back to the main building. When I’d asked him if we were going to go back and play golf with his parents, the only thing he’d said was, “The time for golf is over.”

I’d seen the rental receipt when Liam signed for the car. It was an insane amount of money for something that was only used to get you from point A to point B. Although I had to admit the leather seats were super comfy.

The car had apparently hooked his phone up to the Bluetooth right away, because the name of the person on the other end of the line flashed on a tiny screen that was built into the console.

Drew.

The FBI agent.

Liam hit the decline button, punching it hard, almost with disgust.

A few moments later, another alert flashed.

One new voicemail.

“Aren’t you going to listen to it?” I asked after a moment.

“No.”

“But – ”

“But nothing.”

“It could be important.”

“It’s not.” Liam put on his signal and guided the car down a side street that was lined with palm trees and redwoods. A wrought-iron gate appeared in front of us, like something from a movie. Thick vines of ivy twisted through the metal, and a keypad was mounted in front of it. Liam punched in a four-digit code and the gate swung open slowly, creaking as it went.

We drove into a beautiful neighborhood, the wide streets flanked on either side with a cobblestone sidewalk. The houses were sprawling ranches or splits, the lawns well maintained, the bushes manicured.

We drove up a hill and almost all the way to the end of the street, where Liam slowed down in front of a beige house.

Liam’s mother was standing at the end of the driveway, staring down the road and tapping her foot impatiently. She was still dressed in her golf clothes, leading me to believe that they’d left the golf course as soon as we’d disappeared.

“Oh, Christ,” Liam muttered, annoyed, as he guided the car to a stop on the street and slammed the car into park. “Here comes the shit show.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He sighed and ignored my question. “Just let me handle this, okay?”

“You know,” I said. “That’s really not fair. You just expect me to –”

But he’d already opened the door and gotten out.

I bit my lip in frustration. Last night he’d been so different, so attentive, so sweet. Then after Vienna had come to visit, he’d morphed back into this shutdown, controlling man who made me feel as if I was wasting my time.

I picked up my purse and pulled out my cell phone.

No missed calls.

No texts.

What was the point of having your phone back if no one was going to call or text you? I missed Maddie so much.

Liam opened my door. He was nothing if not chivalrous.

“You can’t keep me silent,” I said as I slipped out of the car. “I can talk if I want.”

“Want to bet?” he breathed. “Don’t test me, Emery. Not after the day I’ve had. What happened on the golf course will look like child’s play.”

My chest tightened as he took my hand and led me toward Annabelle, who was still standing at the end of the driveway.

“Jesus, Liam, you could have told us you were leaving!” she said. “You just took off!”

“We weren’t able to stay,” Liam said, sounding anything but apologetic. “Something came up.”

“Something came up?” Annabelle repeated, throwing her hands in the air. The sun glinted off her wedding band. “What could have possibly come up in the middle of a golf game?”

Liam shrugged and began walking up the driveway toward the house.

“I tried to tell him it was rude, but he wouldn’t listen to me,” I said, halfway because it was true and halfway because I knew it would annoy Liam. And I did honestly feel bad for Annabelle. She’d been nothing but nice to me, and Liam was being ridiculously rude to her.

But instead of calming her down, or at least lightening the mood, which is what I’d hoped would happen, Annabelle glanced at me with a bit of annoyance, as if she’d decided that I wasn’t as valuable to her as she’d first thought.

“Where are your bags?” she demanded of Liam.

“They’re being delivered,” Liam said. He was at the front door now, and he opened it, standing on the porch and looking back at us over his shoulder. “Are you coming, Emery?” It was a question, but his tone made it clear that there was only one right answer.

“I’d like to talk to Emery for a moment,” Annabelle said. She smiled at me, suddenly warm again. “Is that okay?”

“Of course,” I said, staring right at Liam as I said it.

He shrugged, as if he were done with the conversation, and then he walked into the house, the screen door slamming shut behind him.

“Here,” Annabelle said as soon as Liam was gone, rummaging through her purse and then pushing something into my hand.

A small round white pill.

“A Xanax,” she explained. “It will calm you.”

I was confused at first, thinking it was a joke. “I don’t get it.”

She sighed. “This is a very delicate time for me and for Malcolm.” She gave me another smile, and squeezed my arm as if we were old friends. “The business is… well, this is a very important new restaurant that Malcolm is opening. And he’s going to need all the help he can get for this, and for other new ventures.”

I had no idea what she was talking about. My mind swirled as I stared down at the pill in my hand. I realized that up until now, I didn’t even know what kind of business Liam’s father was in. I also realized that Liam’s mother, who, up until this point, I’d been willing to give the benefit of the doubt to, was now acting a tiny bit unhinged. Who gave a benzo to their son’s girlfriend a few hours after meeting her?

“I’m sorry, I don’t need… I mean, I understand. I’m sorry Liam took off like that, but I don’t need a pill.”

She smiled, and I noticed a tiny bit of lipstick was pooling in the corner of her mouth, the only place on her face that had a wrinkle, the only place that the doctor had apparently missed.

“You don’t understand, Emery. Malcolm can’t have any… distractions during the party tomorrow. Do you understand?”

“No,” I said truthfully. “I really don’t.”

“I mean that Liam is prone to…well, let’s just say that I know it can’t be easy being with him. His father and I were hoping that now that he’s older, he would be able to get control of the demons that always plagued him growing up.” She sounded stern, as if what she was telling me was something extremely serious. And yet her words had a certain hollowness to them, like maybe they weren’t coming from her but from some therapist or self-help book.

“I’m not sure what you mean,” I said, trying to push the pill back into her hand. But she didn’t take it.

“What I mean is that Liam’s father and I are hoping Liam will end up with a woman who will make sure his outbursts are contained. And from what happened on the golf course this morning, we’re worried you might not have the emotional stability to do that.” She smiled at me, and dread slipped up my spine. “That pill should help.”

And then she turned and left me there, holding the pill with nothing to do but stare after her.