Page 125 of Twisted Knight

“It’s early in the investigation still. Do you want to tell me what happened?”

The tears come. No matter how hard I try to stop them, they come as I explain about Mase going outside. About getting distracted until I heard the screech of tires. About the person getting out, seeing Mase there, and getting back in the car. About them screeching away and leaving my little brother like a heap of clothes on the asphalt.

The detective keeps his head down, writing on his notepad. “So, you didn’t see anything leading up to the event? You weren’t outside watching him?”

If I’d been outside, I would have.

If I’d followed my mom’s rules, I would have.

“No.” That’s the hardest answer I’ve ever had to give. I know it has nothing on how hard it’s going to be when I have to explain it to my mom.

“Okay.” He simply nods and closes his notebook. “Again, I’m sorry for your loss.”

Sorry doesn’t fix anything. In fact, it makes it feel ten times worse.

“Yeah,” I say, looking for the lighter that he’s completely removed from sight, before giving him all our contact information when he asks.

I don’t look up when he stands. I don’t meet his eyes when he hands me his business card. I don’t give a response when he says, “We’ll be in touch.”

Instead, I keep picturing the thread-made bracelet on Mason’s wrist.

Clank. Click. Clank.

Instead, I keep repeating the promise I made to my little brother.

Whoever did this to you will pay.

THIRTY-NINE

Rowan

“Sweet tea and sunshine. What could be better than that?”

My mind immediately flashes to Holden, and I offer my mother a smile that has nothing to do with sweet tea or sunshine. “Nothing,” I lie as I glance around the outdoor patio of the Westmore Country Club. It’s packed as usual on a warm Saturday afternoon. The members mill about under teal umbrellas and sip drinks that are way too expensive on a tab that’s probably overrun.

“I’m sure the Vandeveres will be pleased that you decided to come today,” she says as she waves at Muffy Johnson, who is sitting at a table across from us.

“I promised Caroline that I’d be here, so I’m here,” I murmur. This whole trying-to-be-a-great-friend thing is harder than it looks. Mostly because I loathe shit like this but also because I’ve been busting my ass finding suppliers who will work with us. Ones that my brother and father haven’t burned bridges with in the past.

“That’s lovely, dear.” She smiles and then straightens some, prompting me to look over my shoulder. “Caroline is becoming quite the party planner. I bet you they’ll task her with organizing and planning the Christmas party this year. What a huge accomplishment that would be for them to put their baby in her hands.”

“It’s just a party, Mom.”

“Be happy for your friend. She’s doing well.”

“I am. More than,” I say as I raise my wineglass to Caroline where she stands over by the bar, immersed in a group of people. She raises hers as well and grins.

“Chadwick. What a pleasure to see you,” my mom says as Chad walks up and offers her a kiss on her cheek. “Rowan and I were just discussing how beautiful this setting would be for your reception.”

“We were not,” I exclaim. She’s lost her ever-loving mind.

Chad just laughs and gives me a look that’s laden with apology before taking the empty seat between my mother and me. “Emmaline, did you and my mother coordinate this ambush beforehand? I promise you I just got the exact same comment minutes ago from her.”

“Great minds think alike,” she says. Sensing her cue to leave us alone so that who knows … we might decide to get married tomorrow, she grabs her sweet tea and excuses herself.

“Will it ever end?” Chad chuckles.

“I don’t think so. Not ever,” I say as Chad casually drapes his arm across the back of my chair. I don’t think twice about his hand accidentally brushing over my bare shoulder. This is the boy I shared my first kiss with. A man who has known me my whole life. There is a comfort level between us that has come with years of knowing each other.