Phoebe's POV
When Lucas spoke, everyone else scrambled to their feet and rushed toward the door.
Within moments, Harold and I were the only ones left in the living room.
I remained nestled in his arms, watching the others vanish before my eyes drifted to his hold on me—which had grown even tighter.
"Um, Harold, I'd like to check it out too. Could you let me go?" I asked, my voice wavering.
"What do you think?" He let out a low chuckle, clearly reading the guilt written all over my face. "Babe, you can run, but you can't hide. There are still things I need to hear from you."
"Like what?" I asked.
"Jordan Granger is dead—we saw him explode with our own eyes. I know you've got something else brewing in that head of yours."
He pressed the issue, not giving me any room to dodge.
I bit my lip, ready to deny everything, but his knowing stare made me crumble. "Fine, yes. I do have other plans."
Realizing I couldn't fool him, I gave up and hung my head in defeat.
