Page 143 of Coveted

“That’s what she asked for,” I say with a sigh.

“Well, there you go. Heed her request. Meanwhile, I recommend patience. Self-reflection. If she’s the right woman for you, no force on earth will keep you apart.”

“Okay. I hear you. Doing nothing feels wrong though.”

“I know. You’re so like your father.”

“My father, whom you miss.”

She laughs. “We’ll see, Lucan.”

We chat for a while longer before finally saying goodbye.

Sitting in silence after hanging up, I stare into space and think about our conversation. I can’t believe it was that easy to reconnect with her. Maybe I need to start doing more things I assumed I couldn’t.

Is my mother right? Do I just need patience and a good, hard look at myself?

I’m a fucking control freak, I know that. Sadie’s more important than having control though, and I’ve never been able to say that about anyone or anything.

Constantly checking up on her is a drug I have to quit. She was right when she said my actions are about more than keeping her safe. I was also using surveillance to feed the beast in me that hungers for her.

No more watching her get ready for bed. No more listening to her heartbeat as I sleep.

The daily unfolding of her life is out of my hands now. I know it in my head but not my heart. The urge to monitor—to make sure—is overpowering.

I will keep trying though. The tracking app on her phone is still active, yet I haven’t opened it since she told me to back off.

I’ve sworn to myself that the app’s only for emergencies now. True emergencies, not my insatiable obsession with her.

It’s my own little test. One I’m in constant danger of failing.

Shoving my phone into my pocket, I scan Parker’s room for a distraction.

My eyes fall to a barely visible outline in the wall next to me, just above the floor. No one would ever notice it from a standing position.

Placing my hand on the spot jogs my memory. Parker used to stash things in here as a kid.

I smile as I remember sneaking sips of gin from a bottle with him when we were middle schoolers. We couldn’t stop laughing. Back then, everything was funny.

When I open the secret compartment, only one item lies inside now.

It’s a notebook filled with handwritten text.

Thumbing through the pages, I try to decide the ethics of reading my dead cousin’s hidden journal.

Slowing down to examine the words, I realize he’s written the whole thing in an unfamiliar code—except for the dates, which are as recent as the week before he was killed.

A flicker of excitement lights in me.

What if I could unlock the code? There might be something useful in here, like a clue about the killer’s identity or what happened to Hannah.

I look at the empty room. “Parker, if you don’t want me to take your journal, send me a sign.”

When nothing happens, I tuck the notebook under my arm and go home.

CHAPTER 37

Sadie