“Where’s Ivy now?” West asks as the woman fills his cup as well. “Leave the bottle.”
“She said she was going to spend some time with the girls. Do a little slumber party and try to relax and get some sleep. The trail ride and party tired her out and she wanted to make sure she was refreshed for tomorrow. But I’m pretty sure she knows I’m keeping something under wraps and she’s rethinking whether she should marry me.”
“Bro, that’s nerves talking.” There’s no way these two aren’t tying the knot. They love each other with all that they have. They’ve been through more than anyone I know. “Everything is going to go as planned.”
“I hope so.” Rogue picks up his drink and follows me outside into the yard.
West comes after us with the bottle in his fist.
Flames leap from a pit, crackling in the darkness before they dull to ash.
“I know so. It’s obvious to anyone looking in.”
“It’s that poor goat.” Rogue takes a seat on a haybale. “If we had any clue who was behind it that might make it easier. I could sandwich the bad between good. But giving her more to fear and stress about... that’s hard.”
I stick a joint between my lips and light it. The paper hisses at first scorch and then settles into a slow burn. The smoke fillsmy lungs and softens the tension in my shoulders and neck I’ve been carrying all day.
Fuck. Love is complicated, isn’t it? You think you have it figured out, then realize you never had a fucking clue. “So maybe you shouldn’t tell her?”
“No. I’m telling her. It’s just she’s already stressing about Alec and Nicole on top of everything else. I don’t want to stress her out more.” His phone buzzes, the screen lighting up. “The girls have decided to go for a drive and get some air.”
There’s plenty of fresh air right here.
“I don’t think the goat has anything to do with Ivy,” West says, catching our attention. “Or you, Rogue.”
I point at my chest. “You think it’s meant for me? But there wasn’t a note. No lyrics. Nothing to suggest it’s my stalker. A stalker who didn’t know I was coming here. Rebel and I already discussed this.”
“Dizzy suggested, and I agreed, that it might be meant for Summer.” West stares into the flames. “I was going to talk to Rebel about it, but he’s been impossible to get alone. Those Hearts are constantly watching him.”
“Summer does hate coming home,” Rogue muses. “Learned that today.”
“Because bad stuff happened here.” She’d told Ro about it that day we went to ask her to help us get Rebel out of jail. About the assholes who assaulted her and got away with it even when she reported them.
“Put it in the bros before psychos chat.” Rogue takes a drink. “He needs to be aware. We face this shit together. I’ll tell Ivy in the morning. If that means we never get married, then so be it. No marriage should start off withbabe, by the way I didn’t tell you there was a psychopath at our wedding.”
“And if it isn’t?” West asks.
“Then we’ll adjust. If it’s Riot’s stalker, then we have the FBI here. If it’s one of Nicole’s schemes, we’ll deal with that too. It’s not like we can’t handle whatever comes our way. We’ve been through worse.”
“You shouldn’t assume that,” West says, his gaze flat.
It’s weird the way he is so calculating and emotionless sometimes. Especially after a moment where I’ve almost forgotten he was raised a Hawthorne. It’s disconcerting.
“What’s the story behind you and Dizzy anyway?” Rogue asks. “And what was with her tonight?”
“I’ll be answering neither of those questions.” West pours more whisky into his glass and offers me the bottle. When I decline, he holds it out to Rogue.
“Come on. Give us a little hint.” Rogue takes the bottle. “How does one end up knocking boots with their pseudo sister? Stepsister? Imposter sister? Kidnapped and adopted and raised pretend sister?”
“How does one end up setting fire to their brother?” West asks coldly.
“Okay. Ouch.” Rogue shifts away from the fire. “No need to get hostile. I was curious. Is it an open relationship? Are you both allowed to kiss other people?”
“You’re a dick.” West stands. “And I have better places to be.”
“Fine. I’ll stop giving you grief,” Rogue says. “Just sit down, have another drink, and commiserate with us.”
“One more drink,” West says.
