Free Dirty Little Lies (Dirty Little #2) by Cassie Cross Page B

need it,” says the man behind me. He follows that up with an incredibly creepy, “Miss Blake.”  
    Because I don’t know what else to do right now, and because I stupidly decided to forego the security detail that my lawyer—Nancy—suggested that I hire, I try to scare him a little.  
    “I have mace, and there is surveillance on this property,” I say without even turning around. Both of these things are true, although what good they’ll do me? I have no idea. My heart his pounding, fear and adrenaline rushing through my veins. “So think long and hard about what you’re going to do before you do it.”  
    I can see what looks like a smile in the glass door pane.  
    “I’m not here to hurt you. But it is in your best interests to speak to me. And you’re going to do what I tell you.”  
    I figure maybe this is a reporter trying a new tactic to get me to talk to him, when I haven’t been willing to talk to anyone else.  
    “I don’t have any comments on my parents’ case. Nothing you say to me is going to change that.”  
    Then, another chilling thought comes over me. What if this isn’t someone who wants me to comment on the case, what if it’s someone they stole from? What if it’s someone here to collect on their debt? Yet again, in the span of two minutes, I’m left wondering what in the hell I was thinking turning down that security detail. It seemed like a ridiculous notion at the time, and I had wanted to seem independent and unaffected, but everything about that seems incredibly stupid now, faced with this crippling fear.  
    “Turn around,” he says with authority. “We’re standing in public, Marisa. I’m not going to hurt you here.”  
    Meaning…maybe he would hurt me if we were somewhere else. Can’t let myself think about that, though. It’s not going to get me through this confrontation.  
    I look to my left, and to my right, hoping that Ben had a change of heart, or just wanted to come back for another kiss, but sadly, there’s no sign of him. Or anyone else, for that matter. Great.  
    “What do you want?”  
    “I want you to do something for me.”  
    I let out an unladylike snort. “No.”  
    “Trust me,” he says, his voice low. “When you see this, you’ll do it.”  
    It’s dangerous and stupid, but my curiosity gets the better of me, and I turn around. I’m hit with a spark of familiarity from him, but he’s difficult to recognize under the baseball cap and sunglasses he’s wearing. But he’s definitely young - he can’t be much older than I am, and despite the disguise, he’s nicely dressed. He doesn’t look like an investigative reporter, so I’m not sure what he could possibly want. Nothing good, though, that’s for sure.  
    “What is it that you want from me?” I ask.
    “Take a look,” he says, handing me a large, thick envelope.  
    Without giving it much thought, I gently take the envelope from him, almost painfully curious about what’s inside. I’ve never been served before, but I don’t think this is how it goes. This must be something else.
    “You’ve been seeing Ben Williams again.”  
    The “again” strikes me as odd, but given the whole situation at the moment, I’m not going to call him out on that. I’m guessing he was the one in the car with the camera pointed at us when we left the diner? God, I wish I had the sense to take down the vehicle’s license plate number.
    I suppose it doesn’t really matter that he knows.  
    “I haven’t been keeping that a secret.” There hasn’t been much of a secret to keep, and we haven’t even seen that much of each other, really. Unless this man has been watching my home.  
    “I want something from him, and you’re going to get it for me.”  
    I laugh at his gall. “No, I’m not.”  
    “Open that envelope.” He nods at my hands.
    I do as he says, out of nothing more than panicked curiosity. My fingers tremble as I pull up the prongs keeping it fastened,