CHAPTER 9
Ryder
CARL PHILIPP EMANUEL BACH — SOLFEGGIETTO
As I walk through Brookhaven’s streets the next morning, heading to grab some groceries and cookies for Gwen, I can’t stop thinking about Lily.
Thinking about what she’s been through because of Tristan.
Thinking about how lonely she’s been.
Thinking about how her slight body felt against mine.
Then thinking about how slow and torturous my death would be at Peter’s hands if I ever did something to her.
Rinse and repeat.
Ineverthink about other people like this. No one has mattered enough to worry about. Gwen and Peter both have their lives in order, at least for the most part, and I haven’t worried about anyone else in a long time.
But Lily consumes my every thought. Needless to say, I’m all kinds of tired now.
I’m trying to line up the timeline of her relationship with Tristan compared to my history with him. I rewatched the video when I got home from visiting her last night, and she said the events between them happened the previous fall, about a year and a half ago. But then she posted the video in May, which iswhen everything with Tristan’s career exploded, and not in a good way.
But I wouldn’t know that, because my issues with Tristan happened between those two events, in January. After he got me kicked off a job, added with my new phobias, I stayed away from any celebrity news. Call me bitter—I don’t care. I wanted nothing to do with the people who humiliated me and nearly ruined my entire career.
For all I care, Tristan Jackson can go rot in?—
“Ryder, dear!”
Oh, man. Suzette found me.
It’s my own fault, though. I wasn’t paying attention to my path and walked right in front of the bread shop instead of walking around the fountain to the produce stand.
“Hello, Suzette,” I say.
“It was so lovely having you at book club last night,” she says. “Will you join us again?”
“Uh, we’ll see. I’m not sure if I’ll still be here.”
“What a shame. We’ve really enjoyed having you here. Maybe you can bring Peter to visit, as well.” She winks, and I’m sure she knows what everyone knows—that Gwen would probably die of excitement and nerves if she were around Peter.
“Maybe. He’s pretty busy with his app and everything.”
“Yes, yes, of course. But I’m sure Agatha would love to see him.”
“I’m sure she would.”
Suzette leans toward me and lowers her voice. “Doesn’t she seem like she’s being a little…suspicious?”
“Suspicious? What do you mean?” Ah, crap. I know exactly what she means, and I’m pretty sure the tone of my voice is betraying my lie.
Suzette narrows her eyes at me, then she switches to a casual grin. “Oh, I don’t know. Just a little more secretive thanusual. And that whole story about the cat yesterday.” Her eyebrows rise, her eyes piercing mine.
Shoot. She knows that I know something I shouldn’t.
“Ah, would you look at the time.” I jerk my thumb over to the produce stand. “I need to pick up some groceries for Gwen. Nice chatting with you, Suzette.”
She rolls her lips. “Mm-hm. You too, Ryder.”
