Read Twirled Bond (Holly Woods Files, #5) for Free Online

late yesterday afternoon that he has prostate cancer.”
    Oh. Shit. “I’m sorry,” I say honestly, my voice quiet. “How bad?”
    “They think stage three. They won’t know for sure until they run more tests.”
    Stage three. I don’t know much about cancer, but I do know there are four stages—and three isn’t good. “Okay. Apart from Drake not answering his phone, I don’t know why you’re telling me this.”
    Gianna leans forward on my desk, burying her hands in her hair, and audibly inhales. She peers up at me through loose, dark-brown strands and meets my eyes. “ Cara, I’m afraid Malcolm’s cancer might be further along than they think. Or that it’ll spread quickly. I’m afraid he might die before Drake realizes he should have listened to his reasons for leaving.”
    Something I know she won’t tell me. There’s always half a story with Gianna—whether it’s hers to tell or not. Her half stories are the entire reason she was almost charged with murder last November.
    “It’s really not information that should come from me. And I’m a little uncomfortable that you shared it with me first.” Honesty is the best policy and all that. “This is something he should know before me.”
    “He listens to you more than me, cara. ” Her eyes are pleading with me, but I’m not falling for it.
    I’ve already kept her secrets before. This? This is more than a secret. This is serious.
    “Jesus, Gi.” I stand up and run my fingers through my hair. I grip the edge of a shelf on my bookcase and pinch the bridge of my nose, my hair falling loosely around my face. “That’s not an excuse. You just don’t wanna tell him. It was one thing for me to hide that I was trying to find Wally’s murderer from him at your request. It’s another thing entirely to hide that his father has cancer! It’s not my job to tell him that.”
    I turn back to face her, and— oh no .
    I feel the blood drain from my face.
    Drake’s standing in my office doorway, his eyes boring into the back of Gianna’s head. There’s no expression on his face. It’s completely blank, his eyes almost dead.
    It’s chilling.
    I know he heard every word I said.
    “Drake,” I whisper. My heart clenches at the lack of emotion on his face.
    “Oh.” Gianna turns, her hand to her chest. “Hon, I...”
    She doesn’t get to finish her sentence, because Drake turns away and stalks toward the staircase. His head disappears from view as the sound of his footsteps on the exposed-wood steps echo through the air.
    “Shit.” I grab my phone, throw it into my purse, and pause, looking at Gianna. “I’m gonna clean up your mess this time, but I expect you to be at our house at eight tomorrow morning to tell him everything.”
    She just nods as I run through my office. Fuck, this would be easier if I weren’t in heels. Unfortunately, I’m used to running in these heels due to my scary amount of brushes with murderers the past twelve-ish months that usually involved running away and...well, shooting them.
    Thankfully, this time, I’m running toward someone who doesn’t want to kill me—I hope—and I’m not shooting him.
    I hope that too.
    I don’t want to shoot him. I like him too much to shoot him.
    If this weren’t such a serious situation, I’d be giggling over the fact that I like Drake Nash too much to shoot him.
    I get outside in time to see him reverse his truck out of the lot. I make it to my car in enough time to be two car lengths behind him, and I follow him home. I try to call him a few times using the hands-free in my car, but he doesn’t pick up a single one.
    “Ughhhh,” I whine, pulling into the driveway after him.
    He slams the front door of the house shut. He’s always two steps ahead of me, so I rush to park, grab my things, and lock the car. In fact, as I dart into the house after him, I’m not even sure I did lock my car.
    “Drake.” I call his name and dump my purse on the floor. My keys jingle inside, but I