Betrayal Buried the Wrong Woman

I arched a brow, a smirk tugging at my lips.

"Oliver, I've spelled it out for you. If you're really doing this for Asher, I hope you're prepared to clean up the fallout."

He didn't call my bluff. After a beat, he sank into the back seat with a heavy thud.

"Fine, Valerie, you win. I never thought you had the guts to go this far, let alone file a fake police report. But when it all blows up in your face, don't count on Asher to bail you out. I'll be in the back seat, watching where it all goes from here."

I rolled my eyes and tuned Oliver out, hands already on the wheel.

"You're really Asher's loyal little lapdog, huh?"

In the rearview mirror, I caught him muttering something under his breath, probably not anything nice.

Then Teresa called again.

"Val, my legs are stuck under the cabinet. I can't move. You need to get back here now."

"Teresa, Ash's not with me, but I'm on my way. Just hang in there. Help's coming."

Teresa's voice crackled in and out before the line went dead. The signal was barely hanging on.

I'd already called the fire department. They said it'd be at least 15 more minutes before they could get to the mountain.

Teresa had sounded so faint just now. That thought alone made me slam harder on the gas.

In the back seat, Oliver finally noticed we weren't heading toward the city. All the color drained from his face. His voice shook.

"Asher said you and Teresa are always pulling this guilt-tripping act. Today's Mel's big day, so he told me to stop you, no matter what, from messing it up. But is Teresa actually in trouble?"

I didn't even look at him. I grabbed my phone and called Asher's uncle, Eric Hawke. The line kept ringing until, at last, he picked up, his voice thick with booze.

"Eric, Teresa's house is on fire. She's trapped under a cabinet and can't move. The firefighters are still ten minutes out. You're the closest one there. Can you try to reach her first?"

"N-No problem. I-I'll go get her," Eric slurred, and somewhere in the background came the clatter of things crashing to the floor.

Could he even stand in that condition? He said he'd help, but the pit in my stomach wouldn't go away.

I shot a glance at Oliver in the rearview mirror.

"Call Asher. You heard everything."

He gave a quick nod and reached for his phone. The line was busy. He tried again and again, but still couldn't get through. Just as he was about to give up, Eric called back, still sounding drunk.

"Val, has Teresa ever been anything but kind to you? I don't get how you could say something like that about her. She really must've coddled you. I wouldn't even know any of this if I hadn't heard it from Ash."

I took a deep breath, hands clenching tighter around the wheel.

No wonder Oliver couldn't get through to Eric. Asher was busy "laying it all out" for Eric.

"Eric, why would I lie about something like this? Teresa's trapped in the attic back home—"

He cut me off with that tone people used when they were sure they had everything figured out.

"Val, we get it. This has been hard for you. But the truth is, Ash's not in love with you. His heart's with Mel. Listen, just let it go. He's a man. He needs space.

"That's the only way he might come back to you. I know you mean well, I really do. Just don't do this. Please..."

Eric's voice faded into a mumble, then disappeared altogether. I yelled into the phone, but all I got back was the sound of snoring.

I turned and snapped, "Still no luck with Asher?"

Oliver shook his head frantically.

Teresa wasn't answering either.

My stomach dropped. We were out of time.