I sipped at my coffee. It was lukewarm and tasted like dirt. “Yeah,” I grumbled. “Home sounds good. Bed sounds better.”
He lifted his chin up in a nod, “You should go climb into bed with a certain leggie brunette.”
“Yeah, right.” I laughed.
“No joke, bro. This shit,” he said gesturing to the bloodstains and spray paint on the walls. “This ain’t something you want to be alone with tonight in your head.”
I shrugged his words off. He knew nothing about me or how I dealt with what was in my head.
“Did you tell your sister yet?” Ryan asked, scratching at the stubble starting to grow in along his jaw.
An uneasy feeling churned in my stomach. “Fuck, I forgot about talking with her. I gotta get out of here and tell her.”
Ryan licked his lips and squinted his eyes toward the door, “Yeah, bro. Then get some sleep, and we’ll start our investigation in a few hours. Need a ride home?”
“Yeah, Ry. Thanks.”
We left the others to seal off the scene, and made our way back to the car and home without another word passing between us. That is until he parked in front of my house, and both of us noticed the enormous bonfire in the backyard of Liv’s house.
“What the fuck, dude? Your neighbors are batshit crazy,” he laughed, peering through the window of the car to see the building inferno.
“Yep,” I sighed heavily as I climbed out of the car. “That’s where Liv’s mother lives.”
“Yeah?” He gave me a wicked smile. “Crazy is great in bed.”
“I hate you,” I said, slamming the door in his face. It didn’t make a difference that he had a point. I hated him for voicing it.
He drove off with a smirk and a squeal of tires,of course. He seemed like the kind of guy that always needed to get the last word in. I glanced over to my house. Brooke’s car was gone, and the house looked dark. Rushing over to tell her about the cadets was a moot point if she wasn’t even home. And Liv looked like she was about to burn her mother’s house down.
“Whoa,” I said, walking into her backyard. “The neighbors are going to call the fire department on you.”
“Well, good thing you’re one of the neighbors,” she sneered, flinging one of the kitchen chairs into the pile of burning furniture. Her face was streaked with tears and ash, like she’d been doing this for hours. It was kind of hot.
“Want to tell me why you’re doing this?” I asked, in a steady calm tone.
She stormed over to me holding out a fistful of papers. Her eyes told me nothing but pain and rage.
“What’s going on? What happened?” I asked, gently taking the papers from her hands.
“My father’s dead,” she blurted. The words were like a floodgate opening, tears streamed down her beautiful cheeks, chasing after each other. “And,” she hiccupped, trying to catch her breath. “It was last month.Last fucking month, Dean!” She slapped her hands down against her sides. “Somebody thought it wasn’t important enough to tell me!”
My chest ached for her. I glanced down at the disarray of papers I held in my hands. “Are you serious? That’s what was in her papers?”
“That, and so much more. So much more,” she sobbed, collapsing straight to the ground.
I immediately kneeled down beside her, the hard cold ground wasn’t kind to my knees. “Like what?” I asked, ignoring the pain.
“I have this whole family,” she sniveled and sniffed. “He was married and had two kids.Two kids. And, and,” she got louder. “The family was paying her off to keep us away from him!”
She lunged for the wrinkled mess of pages and yanked out one of them, holding it an inch away from my face. “Look at the bank statements. I’ve been busting my ass working, paying all her fucking bills—and mine—when she has a four million dollar blackmail account!”
That’s insane. “This is why she didn’t want you to touch any of her stuff? Why would she hide that from you? Why would she do that to you?” I mumbled more to myself than her.
A deep sob ripped up from her throat, “You have no idea how I have always wanted a family. No idea.” Her eyes met mine, so big and red and full of tears. “A non-alcoholic family. Like yours.You fucking bunch of Bradys.”
“I know, Liv. Come here,” I said softly, pulling her into my arms. She folded right into me, shoulders trembling with hate and rage, sadness and heartbreak.
“Wait,” she croaked, pulling her head back and arching her brows. “You’re wearing the same thing from last night?”
