I drowned most of them in a haze of whiskey and bourbon.
They’re gone from my mind for good.
CHAPTER THREE
LILY CALLOWAY
“Is this an interrogation or a meeting?”Ryke asks roughly. He slouches on our navy Queen Anne chair with a deep scowl, sweat stains seeping through a Penn track shirt.
There are onlythreepeople who could have possibly spilled my secret. And the guy at the top of my suspect list has yet to crumble. Although, very little ruffles Ryke Meadows.
And here he sits—edged, all hard-lines, his eyes perpetually narrowed and his demeanor cocky and self-assured. He managed to become a part of Lo’s life. He infiltrated our group, and he has never made a move to leave. He either cares about his brother so much that he’s willing to endure almost anything or he’s scheming for something greater—something that could overturn my whole world.
So it’s true that I’ve been hammering Ryke with questions, and I’m about one step away from shining a blinding light in his face to get real serious. But I have a right to freak out. My life is seconds from crumbling.
Lo passes Ryke a bottle of water.
I shoot Lo a wide-eyed look. He shouldn’t be giving him sustenance until we have answers. That could have been our only bargaining chip.
“Who says he gets water?” I blurt out.
Their brows crinkle as though I’ve lost some brain cells. Okay, so I’m being irrational. What else is new?
Ryke raises a hand. “I’m sorry, but is anyone else concerned for my safety here?”
Lo ignores his brother and clasps my hand, pulling me to the sofa. My leg touches his, but the closeness doesn’t calm me. Since I read the text, panic has overpowered my chance at being composed and sane.
I don’t want to act like this, but my only other way of coping with high-stress situations involves grinding and climaxing and everything I’mnotallowed to do.
Rose’s heels clap down the hallway. “Connor should be here any minute now.” She sits on the pale yellow loveseat adjacent to the couch, crossing her ankles. In a black pleated skirt and a high-collared silk blouse, she looks far classier than anyone else in the room.
“Great, so you can direct this interrogation on someone else,” Ryke says, eyeing me with a tad bit of scorn. But in Ryke Meadows’ case, there’s probably a little pinch of love in there. At least I hope we made some progress while Lo was in rehab. Sure, we had a rocky three months, but Lo was always our common ground.
But if he’s behind some larger plot to ruin Lo’s life—and consequently mine—I’ll never forgive him.
Lo runs a hand on my bouncing leg, trying to settle my nerves. “I’m going to take care of it, Lil,” he says softly.
Ryke gives him a dark, furtive look. I’ve seen it before. It’s the kind you share with someone when you have a secret.
I gasp. “Have you done something without me?”
Lo shakes his head. “No.” He won’t meet my eyes.
I smack his chest. “You’re a lying liar, and we’re supposed to be truthful.”
“Well,” he draws out the word, “if the guy keeps texting us, we may or may not be able to cross Aaron Wells off our suspect list.”
“May or may not?” Rose says. “That sounds like no progress.”
“I did what I did. I’m not going to take it back.” His voice is sharp.
All I hear isAaron Wells, and I go cold. “What did you do?” Aaron is not someone I ever want to see again.
Rose mutters something under her breath that sounds likevandalize.
“I just talked to him,” Lo says.
I look to Ryke for verification. Clearly he was a part of this plot, which only makes me more nervous.
