Embrace the Darkness (The Maura Quinn Series Book 1) - Ashley N. Rostek Page 0,30

hadn’t said something that wouldn’t have corroborated with your story?”

“You told me you didn’t, remember?”

Stefan nodded, seeming pleased I’d caught that lifeline of information he'd slipped me.

“I swear, the shit that comes out of your mouth is amazing,” Louie said after he calmed down. Catching his breath, he plopped down on the couch.

“They’re gone,” Jamie announced when he returned and took a seat on the opposite end of the couch from Louie. “Are you going to tell us what all that was?”

“We didn’t discuss what we were going to say to the cops if they ever showed up. So I felt it was best to take the lead and make sure this situation was as uncomfortable as it possibly could be. By unloading information that is normally too uncomfortable for a sober woman to say, especially with her father present, I created an acute-stress environment.” The three of them each gave me varying confused expressions. “When presented with stress, a distress signal is sent from the amygdala to the hypothalamus.” I realized I was getting too technical when Louie’s eyebrows puckered. “Have you ever heard of fight or flight?” They all nodded. “It’s kind of like that. The basic human response is to flee in uncomfortable situations. Did you notice how they were asking me question after question in the beginning, trying to take advantage because I’d been drinking and my inhibitions were hindered? Then the moment I started crying and rambling on hysterically about threesomes and wanting mind blowing orgasms, they couldn’t get out of here fast enough?”

Stefan leaned back in his chair, his head resting against the headrest as he pondered. “But your inhibitions weren’t hindered?” he asked.

“No, but I certainly made it appear that way,” I replied.

A proud smile slowly formed at his mouth.

“They’ll be back. When they realize they didn’t get everything they needed from you,” Jamie warned.

“Yes, but we’ll be better prepared next time,” I said, taking a seat between him and Louie. “Speaking of being prepared…” I directed my question at Stefan. “Why didn’t we go over what we were going to say to the cops?” Stefan didn’t make mistakes or have slip ups. He was too meticulous. Too controlled. Everything he did or didn’t do served a purpose.

The Stefan I knew wouldn’t have cared how upset I'd been these past couple of days. He would have torn me out of bed and made sure my alibi was so ingrained into my brain, I would’ve believed it was actually true. He hadn't, though. That told me one thing. He'd wanted to see how I would handle this on my own. He'd just tested me. Motherfucker. “We had a deal.” I glared.

Stefan’s smile fell, his face relaxing to reveal nothing, but his eyes said everything. He was debating how he should respond. “We still do. You were upset. As any caring father would do, I gave you space. I knew the police would come, and soon. That’s why I tried calling your room. You didn’t answer. I didn’t push. So I left this moment up to fate.”

What a clever, word-twisting, manipulating bastard!

“Wow.” I sighed, utterly frustrated. Saved by a technicality. One part of our agreement conflicted with the other.

He had tested me or he was playing one of his fucked up games. I could feel it in my gut. The question was, why? What did he have planned? Whatever it was, I wasn’t going to figure it out right now. If Stefan didn’t want me to know, then only time would tell. I just hoped he understood that if he reneged on our deal, there would be repercussions. He’d lose me. When we'd made this deal, I purposely hadn't mentioned that, and I never would. He’d find out after I was long gone.

I turned to Jamie, who was sitting there quietly watching. “Are we still going shopping? Because if so, I’m changing into sweats. These pants are too tight. Someone might have to cut me out of them.”

“I can get the scissors?” Louie volunteered.

I crossed my eyes at Jamie. Louie was too much sometimes.

“Jameson informed me of your clothing situation. I’ve sent Angela out to restock your closet with proper fitting outfits. She got your sizes from the clothes she found in the laundry. I just need to inform her of your, uh… bra size.”

Really? He still gets awkward about this kind of stuff? This was why we had Brody. I could drone on about cramps and how heavy my periods were, and that man