“I’m not asking.”
Ryke shakes his head repeatedly beside me, probably watching my eyes begin to darken the longer I talk to our dad. “You should have rejected the deal for your trust fund,” he says under his breath.
I pull the speaker away from my mouth to talk to Ryke. “I heard you the hundredth time you said it.”
“You’re his bitch,” Ryke rephrases, as if that’ll make me understand.
I grit my teeth, the highway signs zipping overhead. I need to get off the next exit if I want to see my dad.
I press the phone back to my ear. “What is it about?” I ask him.
“The leak.”
I nearly jerk the car into the other lane, a Trailblazer next to us.
“Lo!” Ryke yells, clutching the door. He snaps on his seatbelt.
Shit. “Sorry.” I start switching lanes, properly this time, heading towards the exit.
“Wait, where are you going?” Ryke asks angrily. He knows I’m heading to Philly. He just doesn’t know why.
I put the phone on speaker, realizing that Ryke will throw a tantrum unless he hears the truth from my father. I set the cell on my lap. “You know who the leak is?” I ask aloud, my heart thrumming. After a month without the knowledge, I was resigned with the fact that it just didn’t matter. Mostly because I didn’t have the energy to hunt down Mason or Aaronandcare for Lily. I chose the right option, to be there for my best friend. But I want the information that has eluded us for so long. And the resentful, dark and bitter part of me wants this fucker’s head on a spike.
“Yeah,” he says. “I found the leak.”
“How?”
“The tabloid who first reported the news finally broke and gave us their source. It took five million to loosen their lips and uncover this bullshit.” He doesn’t addyou owe me every penny.Even so, I feel like I do.
“Who is it?” I ask, my hands clutching the steering wheel so tightly.
He doesn’t say anything.
“Dad?!” I shout. A car honks, and I realize I swerved into his lane and cut off a pick-up truck.
“Keep your eyes on the fucking road,” Ryke chastises. “Or pull over and I’ll drive.” No, he’ll take us the other direction. And right now, I’m too wired to go climb a mountain
“Is Ryke with you?” my dad asks roughly.
“We’re on our way,” I tell him, ignoring how Ryke is searing a death glare into the phone.
“No, we fucking aren’t,” Ryke refutes.
“You both should come,” he tells us. “This is important, and I don’t want to discuss it over the phone.” He hangs up.
I flick on my blinker and drive along a side street, off the highway.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Ryke asks.
“He knows who the leak is,” I say like he’s an idiot. “What the fuck areyoudoing? We’ve spent months trying to track down this asshole.”
Ryke stares at the road with a hard gaze. “Maybe you should drop me off somewhere.”
I frown. “What? Where?” What’s wrong with him?
“Like anywhere but there.”
And then I realize that Ryke hasn’t come into contact with my father since the Christmas Charity Gala. Before rehab. Beforeeverything.
