Myths, Murder & Love

Chapter 2

Trevor left the window and came toward her.

Thallia watched his anger disappear. His shoulders relaxed, concern softened his expression, and when he spoke, his voice carried the same patient warmth she'd trusted for months. "Of course our relationship was real."

She'd seen that expression dozens of times.

She'd never seen him put it on before.

Trevor stopped within arm's reach. "I care about you. None of this changes that."

Trevor reached for her hand.

Thallia pulled away. "You don't get to do that anymore."

His hand dropped to his side.

She looked past him at the newspaper on his desk.

The rejected stories came back differently now. So did the dinners he'd brought afterward and the evenings he'd spent on her couch while she worked. His questions about what she planned to write next had always sounded like interest in her.

He hadn't been earning her trust. He'd been building access.

Thallia walked to the desk, picked up the newspaper and tucked it beneath her arm.

Finding Trevor with Bianca hurt. Learning they'd been together for years made Thallia question every moment she'd spent with him.

But seeing Bianca's name above her own words told her exactly what those six months were worth to Trevor.

Then Thallia faced Bianca. "You knowingly published my work under your name."

Bianca held her gaze. "I knew the work was yours."

Thallia turned toward Trevor. "And you built a relationship with me so I would keep giving it to you."

Trevor's jaw tightened. "That's an oversimplification."

Thallia looked down at the newspaper beneath her arm.

Trevor had taught her to question why editors didn't want her work.

Today she'd learned they had wanted it all along.

She had simply trusted the wrong person to deliver it.

Trevor moved toward her again. "Thallia, don't walk out of here over this."

Thallia stared at him. "You really think this is something I should overlook?"

His attention flicked toward the open doorway. Several people in the newsroom were openly watching now.

Trevor lowered his voice. "You're angry. I understand that. But walking away doesn't help you. I can still get your work in front of people who matter."

Thallia looked down at the newspaper beneath her arm.

Her work was already in front of them.

That was the whole point.

She walked toward the office door.

Trevor followed. "Where are you going?"

Thallia kept walking. "I'm going home."

"We need to talk about what happens next," Trevor insisted.

Thallia stopped at the doorway and turned.

The newsroom beyond Trevor had grown quieter. Faces turned toward them, and this time no one bothered hiding their interest.

Thallia didn't lower her voice.

"What happens next is simple. You stay out of my apartment, you stay away from me, and you never touch another word I've written."

Trevor's face hardened. "Think about what you're doing."

Thallia held his gaze. "I've thought about it enough."

Trevor stepped closer. "You walk out now, every editor in this city hears you're difficult."

That stopped her.

Thallia slowly turned back.

Trevor seemed to realize too late how much he'd just admitted.

Thallia held up the newspaper. "You mean another piece with my name on it?"

Nobody in the newsroom looked away this time.

Trevor's face flushed with anger. His voice dropped into a warning. "Thallia."

Thallia stepped back into his office long enough to grab the door handle. "This relationship is over."

Then she slammed the door between them.

The c***k echoed across the newsroom.

Thallia turned toward the elevators.

Every eye followed her across the room. Someone near the copy desk even leaned back in his chair to keep her in sight.

Trevor's door flew open behind her.

"Thallia!" Trevor shouted.

She kept walking.

His voice followed her across the newsroom. "The Chronicle isn't the only paper where I know people."

The elevator doors opened.

Thallia stepped inside and turned. "Then you'd better hope none of them ask why my work has Bianca's name on it."

Trevor stood outside his office with Bianca behind him and half the newsroom watching.

Thallia tucked the newspaper securely beneath her arm. Trevor had stolen her stories. He had stolen her trust. He wasn't getting anything else.

Trevor took a step toward her. "Thallia, we're not finished."

Thallia met his eyes as the doors narrowed between them. "You don't get to decide that anymore."

The elevator doors closed.

Thallia made it six blocks before she stopped. She had been walking toward home.

Her apartment was less than twenty minutes away. Her own bed, clean clothes and privacy waited there.

So did Trevor, even if he wasn't physically in the apartment.

Beside her computer sat the ridiculous ceramic frog he'd bought her, holding paper clips beside the stories he'd been stealing. His things had worked their way into her bathroom and closet until she'd barely noticed they were there.

Thallia couldn't go home yet.

She stepped closer to the building beside her, getting out of the stream of pedestrians moving along the sidewalk. Someone brushed past her shoulder, and another person muttered something when she blocked his path.

Chicago didn't particularly care that her afternoon had fallen apart.

Her phone vibrated inside her purse. Thallia pulled it out. Four missed calls. All from Trevor. His name appeared again while she was looking at the screen.

She declined the call. A message followed almost immediately.

PLEASE LET ME EXPLAIN. YOU'RE UPSET, AND YOU DON'T HAVE THE WHOLE STORY.

Thallia stared at the words. He'd had six months to explain. She blocked his number.

For a moment, Thallia stood with the phone in her hand and watched people pass.

Going home could wait. She opened her contacts and called Jenna.

Jenna answered on the second ring, with piano music playing faintly behind her. "Hey, I'm just finishing something. Can I call you back in a few minutes?"

Thallia drew breath to answer, but the words caught in her throat.

Jenna must have heard something in the silence. Her voice immediately changed. "Thallia, are you all right?"

Thallia swallowed before she could answer. "Are you home?"

Her own voice sounded wrong. Thin and unsteady.

Jenna's concern sharpened. "I'm home. What's happened?"

Thallia closed her eyes and tried to steady her voice.

"I need to come over," she managed.

Jenna went quiet for a moment before answering. "Come straight upstairs."

Thallia swallowed against the tightness in her throat. "I'll be there soon."

Jenna's concern came through the phone. "Do you want me to—"

Thallia ended the call before Jenna could finish.

She lowered the phone and stood there for another moment. Then she turned away from the direction of her apartment and headed for Jenna's.

Jenna Romano lived in a converted warehouse on Chicago's west side, three floors above the studio and showroom that carried her name.

No matter how successful ROMANO became, Jenna still left pins everywhere.

Thallia found one on the elevator floor as it climbed toward the loft.

She picked it up between two fingers when the old metal gate opened.

Jenna was already waiting.

Thallia held up the pin. "You missed one."

Jenna didn't even look at it. Her attention stayed fixed on Thallia.

"What did Trevor do?" Jenna demanded.

The question stripped away the last of Thallia's control.

She stepped out of the elevator and tried to answer.

"Trevor..." His name was all Thallia could manage before her throat closed.

Jenna crossed the space between them.

Her voice softened. "Come here."

Thallia went into her arms.

She had made it out of the Chronicle. She'd walked six blocks, blocked Trevor's number and made it across the city without letting herself think too hard about what had happened.

Jenna's arms closed around her, and holding herself together stopped mattering.

Thallia buried her face against her friend's shoulder and cried.

Jenna held her.

She didn't ask questions. She didn't tell Thallia everything would be fine or promise that whatever happened wasn't worth her tears. One hand simply moved slowly over Thallia's back while she waited.

Fifteen years of friendship meant Jenna knew when Thallia needed answers and when she needed time.

Eventually, Thallia pulled back and wiped at her face.

Jenna reached behind her and closed the elevator gate. "Come sit down."

Thallia shook her head. "I can't. Not yet."

Jenna didn't push. "Then we'll stand."

Jenna took the newspaper from beneath Thallia's arm and set it on the long worktable nearby.

Her gaze landed on the front page.

Jenna frowned. "Why is Bianca Russo's name on your doughnut story?"

Thallia swallowed. "Because Trevor gave it to her."

Jenna looked up sharply.

"And it wasn't just that one." Thallia gestured toward the newspaper. "He gave Bianca everything I've trusted him to submit since I met him."

Jenna stared at her. "Trevor gave your work to Bianca?"

Thallia nodded, the memory turning her stomach again. "He told me the Chronicle rejected every piece."

Jenna's expression hardened. "Tell me what happened."

Thallia rubbed her palms against her skirt. "I went to surprise him with lunch. He was kissing Bianca."

Jenna’s hands stopped moving in her lap.

Thallia forced herself to keep going. "They've been together almost five years."

Jenna stared at her. "He was with Bianca the entire time you were together?"

Thallia gave a humorless little laugh. "I've only known him eight months. We've been dating for six."

Jenna pulled the measuring tape from around her neck and snapped it hard between her hands. The sharp c***k cut through the loft. She dropped it beside the newspaper.

Her voice sharpened. "And Bianca knew about you?"

Thallia nodded. "She knew who I was. She knew the stories were mine. Trevor told her I understood there was some kind of arrangement."

Jenna's brow furrowed. "What exactly did he claim you agreed to?"

Thallia shook her head. "According to Trevor, I knew he was using my work and I was supposed to be getting something in return. I still have no idea what that was."

Jenna glanced at the newspaper. "Besides a boyfriend who wasn't yours?"

The words stung.

Thallia shook her head. "You said exactly what happened."