Something wasn’t right.

It had been over a week since Leo had come to live in the house with us, a week of Delfino disappearing until all hours of the night for whatever “preparations” he was making. Every single morning he would remind me to keep Leo captivated, stressing that I should attend to his needs in every possible way. Every word seemed purposefully chosen. Every syllable struck me with the sharpness of a razor’s edge.

These were deliberate commands. I could tell myself all day long that Delfino hadn’t the first idea about how Leo and I might take those orders to heart, but the fact was that—despite how slippery he was, how unreadable and unknowable—I knew Delfino wasn’t a stupid man. On the contrary, he was sly as a fox.

He was a charlatan. A snake-oil salesman. A conman who knew how to manipulate, how to get exactly what he wanted. What he said he wanted was to protect me, but then he seemed so keen to leave me and Leo alone together, to throw me into the den of a lion—a man with the character of a predator, by Delfino’s account. He was only too happy to list his grievances with Leo in the hospital, and at our nightly dinners, to ensure Leo never forgot he was a criminal.

And yet every day, he left us alone. Every day, he left me with a man who, by Delfino’s own surmising, could easily take advantage of me. And not only that, but he expressly told me—in Leo’s presence—to see to his every… single… whim.

So the question was: could Delfino really be that oblivious, that stupid, that distracted with all these preparations he was making? Or was there something else going on beneath the surface, as there so often was?

Having lived with him for so long, I was far more inclined to believe the latter, even if Delfino clearly wanted me to believe the former.

Or did he? This was the trouble with a master manipulator—you never quite knew where you stood. You ended up examining the situation in circles. Does he know I know? Is he counting on me believing he’s got something up his sleeve? Is this just a distraction for something greater? If it is, did he know I would know that he knew? They were the kinds of questions that would drive even the sanest person stark, raving mad.

Dread coiled tight and hard in my stomach as I lay in bed that night, considering the possibilities. As much as I wanted to think of something, anything else—something more pleasant, more likely to allow me to sleep tonight—I couldn’t stop the spiral. And the worst part was wondering if that was part of his plan, as well.

How much did Delfino know? Had he been aware of mine and Leo’s tryst from the beginning? Had he been on to us this whole time? And to what end? What purpose could Leo and I having sex possibly serve? If he had a greater plan for me, or for Pleasant Lakes in general, how did that factor in? I couldn’t see a point to it. And that made me all the more worried about what the hell part of this equation I was missing.

Fear and frustration soon gave way to paranoia. Dimly, I wondered if the missing link was Leo—if Delfino had somehow managed to rope him into all of this. It would explain his hospitality, his willingness to shell out cash to pay for Leo’s medical bills, and the wide berth he seemed to give the man he supposedly despised. It would explain why Leo had taken no action against him, why he insisted we stay in this town, under this roof, with no real plan for escape. Why a man like him, a thug who’d spent years as part of a motorcycle gang, would deign to wait for the right opportunity instead of making one for himself. Maybe it even explained why he’d shown up in my life again, after all this time…

No. That was impossible. Wasn’t it? Oh, how I wished I could be sure…

I closed my eyes tight, trying to ignore the slivers of twilight filtering through my blinds, casting shadows that made it seem like the walls were closing in all around me. No, Leo being involved didn’t add up either, and I inwardly kicked myself for even thinking of it. He wouldn’t have faked a massive accident and wrecked his bike just to garner sympathy—clearly the ruins and the wreckage were real. And I recalled that night I’d first heard he was back in town, how angry Father had been. That couldn’t have just been an act for my benefit. He couldn’t have known I was listening from the top of the stairs.

Right?

Right, I told myself, letting out a long breath. Delfino is many things, and all of them are especially cruel, but he’s not a mind-reader. He’s not in control of every aspect of your life. Not enough to know what move you’ll make next.

Except, where Leo and I sleeping together was concerned, that was a very real possibility—that he had predicted what we would do before we’d done it.

Which brought me right back to the question of why? Why would he let this happen? What was in it for him?

It was a wonder I wasn’t dizzy from going ‘round in so many circles over this. It had to stop.

But what could I do? Leo was still injured. His bike was MIA. We could maybe steal Father’s car, sure, but no way we’d make it past the town limits without getting caught—the cops in Pleasant Lakes were all under his thumb, just like everyone else was.

I’d think of something. I had to. Even if it took me all night. Something had to be done, and soon, before whatever plans Father had for me came to fruition. I appreciated that Leo had come back here to save me, risking life and limb—I really did. But being with him this past week had made me remember who I was.

And I was a girl who was more than capable of saving herself.