Awful Intentions: Friends-to-Lovers Romance (The Celestial Bodies Series Book 2)

by Elena Monroe

  Four in the morning, when no one is awake yet to watch you.

  Getting up before the sun wasn’t always appealing. I napped or slept midday, and night-ran until my schedule could become more normal—after I would get the promotion that didn’t exist yet.

  I had been trying to spot something I could get stuck to, unravel, and present to the producers in a neat little package with my face on the screen of the nightly news.

  Crime happens all the time.

  Crime rates are up.

  Crime doesn’t sleep.

  Well, crime is a sneaky bitch, hiding from me like I’m the police. I might as well be; I worked close enough to them.

  I was finally catching a stride, focusing on my shoes beating the pavement and my breath steadying against the inside of my chest in a rhythm, when a reflection in the water caught my eye.

  It was probably trash, a stray garbage bag or a beer bottle someone threw from the bridge in the middle of a drunk stupor. I still found myself jogging down to the water, down the stairs and the overgrown path, down to where boats slipped into the water easier, just to confirm the glimmer I saw.

  If I didn’t check it out now, I would be making up theories all night. I was meant for this job more than anyone in my office.

  I was creating fake news on my runs for crying out loud.

  No one else was that dedicated.

  I didn’t want to get my running shoes wet, but the bag floating on the water was too far away. Snapping a tree branch off a nearby tree, I used it to fish the bag closer.

  Now it wasn’t because I thought this was big news, but my curiosity was piqued and I needed to know what was in the bag.

  Determined to know.

  My fingers reached and reached, until I felt the bag inch closer to my grasp. Finally stabbing my fingers into the slippery material, I yanked the bag to shore, pausing only for a minute.

  A heavy trash bag in the river was sending red flags shooting up in every direction. I talked myself down by repeating how it was just trash, forgotten trash, and I was being ridiculous.

  Pushing my finger into the material until it punctured against my nail, I saw something pale in color as I ripped it open even more.

  Gasping, I fell backwards with my hand clamped over my mouth to muffle any sounds.

  A girl with colored hair and pale white skin was tangled up in a trash bag floating down the river.

  Staring at her with my features creating a frown, I asked, knowing she couldn't answer, “Who are you?”

  I pulled out my phone, snapping photos of what little the tear made visible, before I ripped it open more. It was the middle of the night, and no one was around to question my involvement.

  Swiping through my contacts I called the one person I trusted at work: Jasper. He was a tech nerd, and everyone’s go to when they needed someone to dig.

  “Jasper, I need you to come down to the river. Now.”

  He protested in his groggy voice, and I knew he was barely awake, with eyes probably still closed and hair in every direction.

  “Pretty please, Jasper. For me?”

  The Amherst Sinners Series

  The Best Years (Book One)

  The Best Moments (Book Two)

  The Best Mistakes (Book Three)

  The Best Flaws (Book Four)

  The Celestial Bodies Series

  Awful Curse (Book One)

  Awful Intentions (Book Two)

  Awful Hoax (Book Three)

  4Horsemen

  Grimm

  Vic

  Khaos

  Bowen

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