by Rose, Callie
My bikini has dried a bit by the time I tug on my pants and top, but the guys must be freezing as we step outside and hurry to Linc’s car.
As soon as the doors are closed, he turns on the engine, blasts the heat, and pulls away from the curb.
The car is silent for a second before Chase speaks.
“Sooo…”
“So, we know how they met.” I turn toward the back seat, even though I’m not sure River can see me in the low light.
“He picked her up at his own fucking fundraiser.” Dax taps on the window pane with his knuckles. “That’s ballsy.”
“Or stupid. There are pictures.” River looks up from his phone. “This probably isn’t even all the ones that were taken, but there’s a gallery online—and I bet the photographer has everything backed up somewhere.”
I crane my neck. “Can I see?”
He nods and passes his cell up to me. I swipe through the pictures as Lincoln drives and the guys murmur in low voices around me. I’m only half listening as they debate what we should do with the information we have now. My gaze tracks over every picture, searching each image from top to bottom.
And then I see her.
Iris Lepiane is done up to the nines, her light blond hair artfully arranged on her head with little tendrils cascading down her neck. She’s wearing a full-length gown, and the combination of the dress, hair, and makeup seems to add ten years to hear appearance.
I’d been skeptical of Summer’s claim that she could just waltz into these fundraisers and galas with a bunch of adults without anyone raising an eyebrow.
Now I know how.
Judge Hollowell could be forgiven for mistaking Iris for someone in her mid-twenties if he met her at the event. But at some point not long after that, he had to have discovered her true age, and the fact that he didn’t immediately walk away shows his true colors as a lecherous bastard.
The photographer caught Iris with a glass of champagne in her hand, smiling as she gazes out at the crowd around her. She looks ethereal. Timeless. Nothing at all like the girl I heard screaming at Savannah in the girls’ locker room more times than I can count.
It’s like she had this whole secret life outside of school.
I guess we all do, in a way. But most people’s don’t get them killed.
Before I scroll on, I snap a screenshot on my phone, saving the image. But it’s the next photo she appears in, several pictures later, that has me sitting up straighter in my seat.
She’s not in the foreground this time—she’s just one of many in the background.
Her face is partially turned away from the camera, but it’s still quite obviously Iris.
And she’s talking to Judge Hollowell.
12
I sit at the marble island in the Lauders’ house, nursing my coffee as I hunch over my phone. It’s on the counter in front of me, and I keep flicking my finger back and forth across the screen, shifting from the picture of Iris by herself to the one of her with Judge Hollowell.
“It’s the right call, Low.”
Dax’s voice is serious, and he scoots a little closer to me, glancing over my shoulder as the pictures slide back and forth.
“You think?” I murmur.
We spent all weekend debating about it—the question of what to do with the information Summer gave us, and with the picture of Iris meeting Judge Hollowell at his fundraiser.
“It makes sense to me,” Chase puts in, resting his hand on the small of my back as he leans over my other shoulder. “We said we’d go to Dunagan when we had something to tell him. And now we do.”
“Yeah.”
I draw my bottom lip between my teeth, biting so hard it leaves an indentation in my skin. I’m scared as fuck to do this, but the guys are right. Dunagan has resources we could never hope to, and with the ticking countdown to my mother’s trial marking the days, we don’t have any more time to waste fumbling around in the dark.
We have to do this.
“Yeah,” I say again. “Okay.”
“Ready?” Dax asks. “We gotta swing by and get River.”
I down my coffee in two long gulps. It’s too hot for that, but I don’t care. I need the caffeine. Actually, I’d prefer a shot of something stronger, but the caffeine will have to do.
On the way to River’s house, I make the phone call. Dunagan left his card with Samuel Black when he questioned him after Mom’s arrest, and Linc texted me the number for his direct line last night. I hit the green CALL button and try to control the thudding of my heart as it rings once… twice…
Dunagan answers on the third ring, and the sound of his voice is like a visceral flashback to the night Mom got arrested.
“Hello?”
“Detective Dunagan?”
“Yes,” his measured voice says, “who’s this?”
“It’s Harlow Thomas. I met you when you—”
“Yes, I know who you are, Miss Thomas.” His voice has sharpened, and I can practically feel him sitting up straighter in his seat.
Fuck. Here we go.
“I wanted to see if I could meet with you. I have information about Iris Lepiane that I don’t think you found in your investigation.”
“I see.” His voice settles into a tired gravel. “Is this about that mysterious masked man?”
“No.”
Yes, it is, but I’m not telling him that. He already thinks I’m crazy and desperate. He won’t listen to me if he thinks I’m just going to rant conspiracy theories.
“Miss Thomas, I understand you’re upset about your mother, but I don’t have time to go on wild goose chases, do you understand me?”
“I do. This isn’t that. Can I just talk to you? I found something out that I think you should know. Please?”
There’s a long pause on the other end of the line before he finally speaks again.
“Fine. Next week. Monday. Come to my office.”
A week? Fuck, that’s further out than I was hoping for.
I get the feeling it’s deliberate on his part—Dunagan’s way of making sure I know that even though he’s agreed to meet with me, he doesn’t consider anything I have to say of urgent importance.
But if I push back, I’m sure I won’t get a meeting at all.
“Sure. Okay, I’ll be there. Thank you.”
“Uh huh.”
He hangs up, and I pull my phone away from my ear and stare at the screen, only realizing belatedly that my hands are shaking.
“He said yes?” Chase leans forward anxiously from the back seat.
“Yeah. Next week. I have to go to his office.”
The twins’ faces both fall in perfect synchronicity, and they recover themselves at almost the exact same time.
“Hey, it’s something.” Chase’s copper hair gleams in the morning light as he cocks his head. “At least he said yes.”
Yeah. He did.
And maybe that means he’ll actually listen to what I have to say.
A few minutes later, we pull up outside River’s house. He slips into the back with Chase, and I turn around to fill him in on my phone call with Dunagan. He listens intently and nods when I finish, seeming to agree with the other two that it’s about the best we could’ve hoped for.
Lincoln is waiting for us outside Linwood’s front doors when we arrive. By the way he straightens as we approach, I know he’s anxious to hear about the call too.
I repeat the story for him as we make our way through the halls, keeping my voice low, and when I finish, he leans down to press a kiss to my temple. It shocked me the first time he kissed me at school, but since then, all the guys have become more openly affectionate in public. Every time something like that happens, we draw stares from some people and glares from others, but I’m trying to ignore both.
“So now we just have to get through the week,” I say with an exhausted laugh as we reach my locker. “Maybe I’ll actually do my homework for once.”
Linc gazes down at me, gripping my chin li
ghtly between his thumb and fingers. “You’re an amazing girl, Harlow Thomas.”
When he looks at me like this, it’s hard to remember that he ever looked at me any other way. That there was a time when we both disliked each other intensely, fighting against the attraction that pulled us together even then. When he looks at me like this, it’s hard to imagine my life without him.
“You’re not so bad yourself, Lincoln Black.”
The right side of his mouth lifts in a lopsided smile, and he drops a kiss to my lips. The other kings all kiss me before they head to class too, and I do my best to return the soft press of their lips without making it obvious that I’m hyperventilating.
That’s another first.
And I can tell it hasn’t gone unnoticed.
Quiet whispers ebb and swell around me as I pass, but I steadfastly ignore them, marching into Political Science as if nothing at all is out of the ordinary.
I do my best to focus on the lecture. My grades have been slipping this semester, and I should really try to catch up. But between the call with Dunagan and the kisses floating around in my mind, there’s just no way Mr. Becker’s droning voice can hold my interest.
I’m heading toward my second class of the day, Biology, when someone grabs my backpack and hauls me backward. I dig my feet into the floor, but before I can regain my balance, I’m pulled through a door into a first-floor stairwell.
Savannah shoves me away from her, dusting off her hands as if they need to be cleaned after touching me.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I growl.
Okay, fine, I pulled the same move on her a week ago, but I had a damn good reason. I’m sure she doesn’t.
She smiles, and there’s something both vengeful and self-satisfied in it that makes my stomach clench.
“Oh, I just wanted to let you know I’m planning on keeping my word,” she tells me in a falsely sweet voice.
“Your word about what?” I bite out.
“About getting you back.” She smiles cruelly. “I mean, I could consider the fact that your mom’s going to be convicted of murder to be enough, but it really isn’t.”
The dig at my mom stings, twisting a knife that seems to be permanently lodged in my heart these days.
“Do whatever you want, Savannah,” I say curtly, tired of dealing with her and her petty bullshit. “But if you come after me, I’ll just tell the cheer squad everything I know about you. I’m sure the whole school will hear about it pretty quick after that.”
Instead of fading, her smile only grows wider.
What the hell?
“No, you stupid skank.” Triumph gleams in her eyes. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. You won’t do that.” She holds up her hand to stop me before I can speak. “Because if you do, I’ll make sure everyone at Linwood finds out about Samuel Black and his little baby momma. About the fact that his wife is leaving him because he knocked up the fucking maid.”
That stops me.
I stare at her for several longs seconds, absorbing her words and the full meaning behind them.
She knows about Mr. Black’s affair. I don’t know how she found out, but she knows.
And Audrey is leaving him? Is that true, or is she lying?
Does Linc know?
As far as I’m aware, Mr. Black has still been playing along with Paige, acquiescing to the woman’s demands in an effort to keep the whole sordid story from spreading far and wide in Fox Hill.
And when Savannah threatens to tell all the kids at school about his affair, what she really means is that she’ll tell all of their parents. If enough students find out, one of them will say something to their mom or dad, and the story will only spread from there.
Savannah is threatening to destroy the entire Black family.
Unless I do what she wants.
She wasn’t kidding. She wasn’t bluffing. She really did find a way to get back at me.
Cocking a perfectly shaped eyebrow, she stares at me, winding a strand of red hair around her fingertip. “What? No snappy comeback?”
“What do you want, Savannah?” I ask, my voice low and harsh.
Her eyes harden. “I want you to stop treating me like your little bitch. And I want you to forget everything Trent told you about me. You wreck me, I wreck your boyfriend. One of them anyway,” she corrects, with a disdainful frown. “And don’t think I won’t be looking for ways to bring down the others too.”
Fuck.
My thoughts immediately go to River, to the secret he’s managed to keep from nearly everyone in the school for so long. If it got out, it’s not like he’d be in trouble. He hasn’t done anything wrong.
But it would hurt him.
And I can’t let that happen.
Just like I can’t let Lincoln be hurt any more than his dad’s indiscretions have already hurt him.
She wins.
“Fine, Savannah.” I step back, fury burning in my chest even as I hold my hands up in a gesture surrender. “I’ll stop. I won’t ask you anything else about Iris, and I won’t… tell anyone what I know. Is that what you want?”
A slow smile spreads across her face, poisonous and deadly. “Yeah, it is. For now. I’m sure I’ll think of other things I want in the future, but you’ll just have to wait and see what those are.”
God, I want to grab a fistful of her hair and smash her face against the wall. I probably could too. I came out on top last time we fought, and if I took her by surprise, I’m sure I could get at least one satisfying hit in before she even started to fight back.
But then we’d get dragged into Principal Osterhaut’s office, I’d get in trouble, and she’d air Mr. Black’s dirty laundry anyway just to spite me.
With extreme effort, I uncurl my fists, sucking in a deep breath through my nose. “Great. I can’t wait to find out.”
“Aw, Harlow.” She grins smugly at me. “We’re gonna have so much fun.”
This fucking bitch.
I won’t deny I enjoyed having some power over her after Trent told us all her embarrassing secrets, but I used that power for two specific reasons only—to undo my expulsion from Linwood Academy and to track down information about how Iris and Judge Hollowell met.
Savannah is going to use her newfound power over me to make my life miserable just because she can.
“Yeah. Fun.”
I hike my backpack higher and yank open the stairwell door just as the bell rings for second period. I make it through Biology, English Literature, and Gym, rushing out of the locker room before Savannah or her cronies can give me any shit.
My chest hurts. Savannah didn’t just twist the knife, she stuck a second one in alongside the first, and now I feel like I can’t fucking breathe.
Instead of heading for the lunchroom, I take the stairs two at a time to the second floor, moving quickly toward the room where Lincoln has his fourth period class. Mr. Wartenburg let us out of gym a little early, so fourth period is just officially letting out as I walk up. Lincoln steps out of the classroom, running a hand through his shaggy dark hair, but he pauses when he sees me.
A look of immediate concern crosses his face, and he reaches me in two strides, grabbing my arms and pulling me out of the way of the flow of students as they file into the hall, dropping his head to bring his face level with mine.
“What is it? Your mom? Dunagan?”
I shake my head mutely, then grab one of his hands and pull him farther down the corridor, slipping into the library. There are a few students bent over tables working on some project or other, but I tug Linc toward one of the little meeting rooms in the back. Officially, we’re supposed to reserve time if we want to use them for group projects or whatever, but kids sneak into them all the time to fool around since they’re empty more often than not.
Once we’re tucked away in the little room, Lincoln pulls his hand out of mine and cups my face between his palms, staring at me with a look of growing worry.
“What happened, Harlow? What�
�s going on?”
“Are your parents getting divorced?” I whisper.
He stiffens. “What? Who told you that?”
“Savannah.”
“How the fuck did she find out?”
“I don’t know. She knows about Paige and the blackmail too.” I hurry on, because even though Savannah is a conniving bitch, that’s not what I want to talk about right now. “She said your parents are getting divorced. Is it true?”
Lincoln hesitates for a moment, his tongue darting out wet the corner of his mouth. Then he drops his head and sighs.
“Yeah. When my dad said he wanted to talk to me the day you and River and I—” He breaks off, as if he doesn’t like associating that incredible moment between us with what apparently came after. “Well, that’s what he wanted to talk to me about. To tell me he and my mom are getting divorced.”
“Fuck,” I breathe. “Linc, I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you tell me?”
He shrugs, and I can tell he’s trying to play it off like it’s not a big deal. But even though he’s good at bluffing, I can see through the lie this time. He’s hurting.
“You had so much other shit going on. I didn’t want to pile on, especially when there’s really nothing you or I or anyone can do about it. It just is what it is.”
I step forward, wrapping my arms around him. He stiffens for a second, like he’s afraid he’ll weaken me by leaning on me. Like it’ll be too much for me to bear.
But what he doesn’t understand is, I’m stronger when I’m with him. Even if it means carrying a heavier load.
His body loosens slowly, and he wraps his arms around me and drops his head, bringing our bodies so close together it’s hard to tell where I end and he begins.
“It fucking sucks, Low,” he whispers hoarsely. “I think my dad is actually heartbroken about it. He’s a mess. But if he’s so sad about losing his marriage, I don’t know why he wrecked it in the first place.”
“I’m sorry you had to deal with it on your own.”
My voice is muffled by his chest, but I make no effort to move. I can barely breathe with my face smushed against him like this, but I don’t care. His spicy coriander scent surrounds me, and I can feel the warmth of his skin through the soft long-sleeved tee he’s wearing.
