Dimitri nods. “Dad is choosing to keep information tight. If he really wanted this taken care of, he’d point them to us. He’s not. No calls. He has just as much to lose.”
“That doesn’t mean everyone will agree,” Hope whispers. “Oh god… the therapist. What if she—”
“No what-ifs,” Jaxon says, kissing her shoulder and almost my hand. “Look at me, Hope.” When she does, he nods. “We’re going forward. Not backwards. Backwards is dangerous. Forward we can control.”
Dimitri and I stare at him. He randomly spouts this kind of shit, but I don’t know where it comes from. I nod once. “A very good weekend.”
“An amazing day. I don’t regret what we did, only that we waited so long,” Dimitri agrees.
She trembles, then pushes her food away. “I need a shower. Please…”
We all let her go. She almost runs to the shower and I have a feeling she’s going to scrub herself raw, trying to scrub away memories. A part of me wants to go with her, just to hold her, to let her fall apart in a safe way.
Jax rubs his jaw. “This isn’t going to stay buried. He’s valued even though he shouldn’t be.”
“It’s better he’s dead. If my dad’s smart, Coach will stay missing so his legacy stays intact. They won’t want it getting out,” Dimitri says.
“And if it doesn’t?” I say softly.
“Don’t like that idea,” Jax says. “She won’t either.”
“She won’t do better in jail. I didn’t believe her. When we came here, I still didn’t believe it. Until she whimpered and started crying rather than just going with him, I would have…” I exhale slowly. “If anyone’s going to pay for that crime, it’s me. I beat him to a pulp multiple times over. I know where he’s buried. She’s the grieving daughter if that’s what she chooses to be.”
Dimitri and Jaxon are both quiet, but I need a confirmation. I turn around to face them and narrow my eyes. “She’s plenty of things. We all know that. But she’s not guilty.”
Dimitri nods first. “She’s not.”
“And she’ll need at least one of us if this goes to trial,” I say, glowering at Jaxon.
He digs his thumbs into his eyes for a moment like he can push back a migraine. “Fuck it. She’s not guilty. Couldn’t be her. She’d never.”
“Exactly. I’m the one with the temper. I have the muscle. I know him well. I knew his secrets, all of them, so I have the motive,” I say with more confidence than I feel.
Only then do we hear the shower turn on.
Well shit.
Twelve
DIMITRI
No one dares to make a sound or comment about our previous conversation now that Hope is eating with some show playing on the TV.
Did she hear? Does she know?
The couch beneath me shakes slightly since Jaxon can’t stop the tremor in his leg. I push him once again and stare at his leg but he just huffs.
Perhaps I should change the subject… and steer away from the storm that has the power to destroy us.
“So, sweetheart, are we all sleeping with you tonight, or…?” I offer and Knox almost chokes on his beer.
Jax looks up, a cheese noodle hanging off his lip, and says, “You askin’ for a foursome, Dimitri?”
I’ve never seen Hope turn red so quick, except maybe when she was concussed and bleeding from her hairline.
Jax keeps going, mouth too full of food to care. “You could rotate. A cuddle relay. Like, the Russian thing and then the Finnish one, then the American leg. I think that’s how they do it in the Olympics.”
“That’s a relay, not an orgy,” I deadpan.
