Beckett didn’t turn.
“I know this is confusing, but emotions are running high right now and we’re not going to get anything done like this.”
He nodded, shoving his hands into his pockets.
“I also know this has to be very weird and probably kind of scary.” Remington chuckled under his breath. “But no one’slivesare in danger, if that’s any reassurance.”
Beckett found it was, even though he hadn’t really expected that Rhys’s dad would have him taken out and dropped into the river for calling or anything like that.
“Alright,” he rasped.
“Money is complicated and family is horrible,” Remington went on. “But Rhys is capable and he’s always just enough ahead of everyone else. There’s a reason he agreed to go tonight, and not last weekend.”
That caught his attention, and Beckett spun on his heel.
“What?”
“Sebastian said their father has been trying to get Rhys home for at least a week. He’d given Rhys a deadline of last Monday.”
“Fuck.” Beckett let out a breath and dropped his head back, staring up at the ceiling. That would explain why Rhys was so distracted when he had Beckett come over earlier in the week. Why he’d been so emotional. All of the hushed phone calls he’d taken while Beckett busied himself in the kitchen. Somehow, the information was reassuring. He knew Rhys was if not ahead, at least aware. Rhys knew that something was going to happen, and he’d been trying to deal with it.
“What?” Remington asked.
“He was…earlier in the week. He was upset. He’d taken a ton of calls and meetings. He was just…not his normal self. I don’t want to say he was shaken, but his mind was on other things.”
“That’s good,” Remington said. “He’s probably more ahead of this than he thought, then.”
“It’s not as reassuring as you would think.”
“Look.” Remington took another step closer, looking over his shoulder before lowering his voice, intending to keep something from Sebastian. “I know first-hand what it’s like when they get called home. Except when it happened to Sebastian, Rhys was the one doing the calling.”
Beckett forced out a nod of agreement.
“Sebastian is distraught, and I can tell you’re barely holding it together. I’m going to take him home and get him to bed. We need to sleep and think about how we can help Rhys best,” Remington said.
Beckett knew it was logical; he knew it made the most sense. But the idea of doingnothinghad him feeling sick to his stomach.
“I can’t just…” He threw up his hands.
Helpless.
“Not forever,” Remington assured him. “Just for now.”
“I work in the morning,” he mumbled, scrubbing a hand down his face.
“Can you call out?”
A sharp laugh tore its way out of Beckett’s throat, laced with all of the confusion and misery he was feeling about the night’s turn of events. “Not if I ever want to work again. I’m not like all ofyou.”
Remington grimaced, and Beckett saw how it hurt Remington to be lumped in with Rhys and Sebastian, but he’d said it himself earlier. He was from money. He was more like them than Beckett was.
“After you’re off, then. What time?”
“Uhm, three.”
“Can we come over around four or five?” Remington asked. “Will you be here or…”
“I’ll be here,” he whispered. “Tomorrow is fine.”
