“Kins, I need to tell you something.” My eyes snap to Tanner’s and I feel every hair on my body stand up. He knows something. “You’re probably not going to like what I’ve got to say, but I think you need to know.”

I freeze. My whole body tenses up as my eyes plead with him expectantly. He pats the cushion on the couch next to him, encouraging me to sit. It’s the last thing I feel like doing right now, I want to pace up and down this damn room; but for him, I sit.

“You know the day we went to the market and on the picnic? The first time we all hung out as a group?”

“Yeah, our ‘double date’?” I furrow my brows, urging him to get to the point.

“Well, that day I noticed a blacked-out SUV following us.” Tanner rests his hand on my thigh to stop my foot that is subconsciously tapping. “I called Jesse to see if he had also noticed, and after some deep thought, he realised he had.”

“Wait, so you’re telling me that both you and Jesse have been aware that someone was following us? And neither of you said anything?”

“I’m saying something now,” Tanner says softly.

“No. You’re only telling me because whoever was following us — scrap that following me, has left me this.” I gesture towards the table of photos. “I wish you had told me. And since when are you all buddy with Jesse? That was, what, the first time you guys had met? Why would you go to him and not me?”

“I just wanted to protect you.”

I don’t even know when I stood up, but I’m pacing the length of the room. I understand that Tanner wanted to protect me, but Jesse knows better. Jesse knows. Shit — Jesse. I bring up his contact and dial his number in a matter of seconds.

“Hey Mea—”

“Don’t ‘hey Meadow’ me, since when did we keep secrets from each other, Jess? A car’s following me? Why am I the last person to know?” I snap, blurting everything out without even taking a breath.

Jesse mumbles something unintelligible under his breath, and as disappointed as I am that he has kept this from me, my frustration fades away when he finally speaks.

“I fucked up Kins, I should have told you weeks ago. There is so much you need to know — the owner of the car, it’s Lance. I’m trying here — but I don’t know. I don’t know how I’m going to protect you.”

“Lance? Lance … Lance Harding — the girl, the case Dad worked on …” my voice trails off.