Because I would do it all again if it kept him safe.
Conor: You busy?
I sighed and looked around the stupid, empty apartment as I sank deeper into the couch cushions.
Me: No.
Conor: Gotta get to the bottom of these pics.
Conor: Just got to your mom’s. Meet me there.
I lurched forward and shouted, “No.”
I hurried to respond, praying he was joking.
But my fingers were moving so fast and I was shaking at the mere thought of my mom knowing about the pictures—of anyone else knowing about the Moretti family—that none of the words came out correctly.
Me: Wht?! Whu?! Ni!
Me: Ni … wht.
Me: Duck it.
Me: Duck mu life!
I nearly threw my phone across the room but called him instead as I ran to my bedroom to put on a clean shirt and to grab my bag and shoes.
Even if this was a prank, I was leaving the apartment to kill Conor for nearly giving me a heart attack.
When he answered, all that came through the phone was his laughter.
“Please tell me you are joking,” I yelled. “Conor.”
“What?” he asked, his voice light.
I stood at my door, my hand on the knob and eyes shut tight. “Where are you?”
“I told you.”
I hissed a curse and ran out the door. “Why … why are you doing this to me?”
“We need to know what’s happening, Libby.”
“That doesn’t mean involving my mom.”
“She’s the only one who might know who it is.”
I tore out of the parking lot, screaming into my phone the whole way. “I have a list of people it might be. That’s a hell of a lot more than she has.”
“Who?” he demanded, his words now dripping with wrath.
I hesitated. “Well, I have to keep crossing names off … so, let’s hold off on the list. But it could be someone I don’t know at all. It could still be one of Maxon’s fans.”
There was a pause before he spoke. When he did, his tone was skeptical. “Do you think it is?”
“It would make it easier.”
“No,” he said, answering his own question.
“No,” I agreed.
“I don’t like how closely they’re watching you,” he said after nearly a minute of silence. “I took another look at the pictures after you told me about the camera at the party. There’s nothing. Whoever’s doing this knows what they’re doing.”
“I know.” The words were a whisper, but they hung in the air like the aftermath of a bomb. “I’m a couple streets away. I’ll see you soon. Do not go into that house without me.”
“Yep.”
Conor was waiting outside his truck when I pulled up, arms folded over his massive chest and expression set in stone.
And then he smiled.
All boyish dimples and ready to sweep any girl off her feet.
I was so adopting him into the family.
Speaking of …
“This is a waste of time. Trust me. My mom won’t be helpful at all.”
“You said it was her fear, so she’ll know it better than anyone.” His blue eyes darted to my car then rested on me. “Where’s the boyfriend?”
“Fiancé.” I showed him my hand for a second before mirroring his stance and folding my arms across my chest. “Henley’s in California for a few days. Radio interviews.”
Conor searched my face. “You know, I don’t know much about this shit, but Jessica practically tackled me in excitement when she and Kieran got engaged. You look—”
“I’ve received a third picture and camera since then. It’s been rough.”
Understatement.
“Uh-huh.”
I didn’t need this. I didn’t want this.
“I’m clearly still in my pajamas. I don’t have makeup on, and my hair is a wreck. I don’t need you talking about how I look.”
He rubbed at the back of his neck. “Not what I meant.”
I rolled my eyes and started for the house, but Conor caught my arm and turned me toward him.
“Really, Libby. Not what I meant.” He looked around, like he was struggling to find the words, then shrugged helplessly. “Just figured you’d be more excited.”
My shoulders sagged. “I am,” I whispered, praying he couldn’t hear the waver in my voice. “But if there’s one thing I know about these pictures, the person behind them doesn’t want Maxon and me together. And in trying to keep him a safe distance away from all this bullshit, it’s putting a strain on us.”
I waited for it.
For him to tell me what I was doing was wrong—that I should tell Maxon.
But he gave me a sad smile and slanted his head in the faintest of nods, like he understood.
He pressed something against my arm when we were almost to the door. “Here. I’ve done all I can.”
I knew what was in the small manila envelope without having to ask. I took it from him slowly, my movements shaky. “Is it weird I’m glad to have those back … and also never want to see them again?”
Conor gave me a curious look.
“If I have them, I know I’m not crazy.” I swallowed thickly and pushed the envelope into Conor’s hand. “Keep these.”
“I can’t do anything with them. I’ve tried.”
“I know. But like you said, they know what they’re doing. They’ve been in my bedroom, Conor. If they decide to suddenly take the pictures back, I’ll have nothing to show for what’s happening. So keep those. The third picture is in my car. I’ll give it to you before we leave.” I stared straight ahead and reached for the door. “Waste of time,” I whispered.
I had the door open and was about to call out for my mom when it felt like the air was knocked from me.
Einstein was sitting in the living room, laptop open, and tablet in hand.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“Working,” she responded in a dull tone. “I’ve been known to do it.”
I dragged my eyes from her for a second to look at Conor. “Did you know she was here?”
“She barely comes in lately.”
“Einstein, why are you here?” I asked when I rounded one of the chairs to stand in front of her. “Why aren’t you at our place? Or ARCK?”
“Einstein’s allowed here whenever she wants, as long as she wants,” my mom said gently as she entered the room. “All of you are.”
I whirled on Einstein. “This is where you’ve been hiding? This is your safe place?”
Einstein stopped tapping on her tablet long enough to give me a dry look. “Someone’s running a little slow lately. Wonder why?” She glanced back down, fingers flying over the screen. “If you’d taken more than a second to think about what I was saying, you would’ve known where I was.”
I started to ask how but stopped.
This wasn’t just my childhood home; it was the Borello gang house. It was where meetings had been held and decisions had been made.
It was also where we all gathered to wait out enemies—like the Holloways. That way when they found us, we wouldn’t be easy to pick off.
The location might be known to enemies, but it was still our safe house.
This house was exactly why I hadn’t told Dare about the pictures … because I was afraid he’d make us all come here and wait out whoever was behind the Polaroids.
Einstein was right. I should’ve known.
I sat next to her on the couch. “Why do you need a safe place, Einstein? Just talk to me, I know you’re having a rough time, but I’ll help you through it.”
“That would be your answer.”
“What is my answer?”
“I don’t want your help. I don’t want anyone’s help.” Her fingers paused over the screen and her eyes drifted toward me. “I can’t let what happened before happen again. I need a safe place from me.”
I was so at a loss that I sat there for a minute s
taring at her.
This went far beyond what I’d already known was happening … and I didn’t know how to help her.
I looked to Conor, but he seemed just as lost as I was.
When I turned to Einstein again, she was completely absorbed in her work.
I hated how she could switch off all emotions so instantly.
During those painful months when I thought I’d lost Maxon, I’d envied her.
I slowly stood from the couch and stepped away, leaning toward Conor to ask what we should do when I saw it.
Across the room, near the back doors, was a black Polaroid camera.
Exactly like the first one.
“Conor.” His name was only a breath leaving my lips, but he must’ve heard and followed my line of sight, because he was at the camera before I even moved.
“Einstein, is this yours?” he asked, his tone holding no room for discussion.
I looked back in time to see Einstein peer at Conor for a few seconds, her brow furrowing. “Yes. Because you’ve seen me with a camera so many times before.”
Conor’s expression morphed into frustration, and I jumped when my mom slipped silently beside me.
“Is this yours?” The question came out harsher than I meant it to, but then again, I rarely spoke to her calmly.
She eyed it with disdain. “I’ve never seen it. Maybe Lily left it here.” She moved closer and lowered her voice. “First you turn your back on an alliance and the family who will be our ruin, and then you do it with a Holloway. What are you doing to our family?”
Conor looked up, his eyes round with surprise.
“Clearly sabotaging it, like you’ve always said, Mom. And I’m not with Conor, Jesus. Maxon and I are engaged, by the way. I’m sure you wanted to know.”
She looked at me with all the disappointment a mother could possess. “What will it take for you to see the threat that’s right in front of you? Everyone you love in the ground?”
I rolled my eyes and nodded toward the camera in Conor’s hands. “I told you this was a waste of time. Bring that with you.”
Thankfully he came with me without objecting.
“You’re rushing into a marriage with that James boy to keep him from leaving you again,” my mom said when we were almost to the door. “For everyone’s safety, you should let him go.”
Conor hesitated and looked back at her for a few seconds, then said to me, “I need to know who she’s talking about. Who you could be up against.”
“It’s been talked about enough in my life that I know most, if not everything, she does. If it’s that important, I’ll tell you.”
He held up the camera. “Libby … it’s starting to look pretty damn important.”
I sucked in a shaky breath and nodded, then leaned close. “But what I tell you doesn’t leave the conversation.”
Conor’s eyes darted over my face before he murmured, “Understood.”
I knew that look.
I’d seen Dare give it.
I’d used it so many times with Maxon.
The agreement only went so far as to ensure the other was still safe. If safety was compromised, all bets were off.
Maxon
I WAS IN A DAZE.
This was the fourth radio interview we’d done, and we still had one more to do.
They were all the same.
Some of the questions got a little more personal than others. Some of the hosts were funnier than others.
But they were all the same. Talk about the tour that just ended. Ask about any upcoming albums.
And then …
“So, we’re gonna cut to it. If you didn’t see it, you missed out. If your friends didn’t save it and send it to you—you’ve been living under a rock, because social media has been going crazy over the disappearing pictures of Maxon James kissing that girl. Reports were all over the place with who she is to Henley’s bassist. Girlfriend. Friend. Just some girl he met on the road. And the most popular, a girl he’s known his entire life. Cue the awws. We have to know, Maxon, who is she?”
Then I tried to laugh and play it like I wasn’t sure whether or not I should tell them—giving that station the inside scoop.
But there was a knot in my chest that had been there since Libby and I left the party at Holloway Estate a few nights ago, and it had only grown. And it was making it hard to do anything at all.
She hadn’t spoken to me when I’d crawled into bed behind her that night, and we’d barely said more than a few sentences to each other the next two days until the guys and I left.
She was working when we landed.
We were practicing when she called back the next day.
I’d sent her one text since. There hadn’t been a response.
This went beyond a drastic mood swing and not wanting to talk. She was keeping shit from me. I knew it. I could feel it.
I wanted to be there for her, to help her through whatever it was—the way I’d always done.
But she was letting it get to her. Letting it control her and twist her thoughts until she seemed fine one second and then shut me out the next.
And I couldn’t keep up.
“We have to know, Maxon, who is she?”
I glanced up and made a sound that resembled a laugh.
Lincoln and Ledger laughed for me, probably because they knew this was coming and had made a bet.
Jared cut me a frustrated look.
I knew he still struggled with living in Wake Forest over LA, and I knew a part of him still blamed Libby for it.
It wasn’t her fault the guys decided to stay.
It wasn’t her fault I fell in love with her long ago and didn’t want to continue living without her.
“That girl …” I huffed and ran my hand over my face. I shrugged and spoke simply and truthfully. “She’s every lyric I’ve ever written.”
Him
“JESUS, WHAT?” THE WORDS WRENCHED from my chest, ragged and gravelly.
They were storming into my office again, uninvited, and it could only mean one thing …
Someone was about to lose his life.
I shot a cold look at my cousin before letting it settle on my assistant. “We have phones for a reason. You call. I tell you I’m busy. You don’t bother me until I want you to.”
He was shaking when he rounded my desk, his hands hovering in the air like he wasn’t sure what to do with them next. “Yes, sir. I know, sir, but this is … it’s well—” He cleared his throat and turned toward my computer. “I’m going to touch this now.”
“No shit.”
“Give the guy a break,” my cousin said from where he was leaning back in one of the chairs opposite me, his feet resting casually on my desk. “You’d just make him pull up what he’s about to tell you anyway. He’s skipping steps.”
I leaned forward and shoved his feet off my desk. “We don’t skip steps around here.”
He smirked. “No. Just bury the illegal ones.”
I shrugged and looked to my computer when my assistant moved away. “Tell me what I’m seeing.”
“Radio interview with that Henley band,” he answered quickly. “They have video of it here, but this …” He moved forward to scroll down the page and stepped back again.
My eyes darted over the summary of the interview.
Where they asked Maxon James who the mystery girl in the pictures was.
“James kept quiet on a name, but the depth of emotion was undeniable when he answered, ‘She’s every lyric I’ve ever written.’”
I stared at the words until I no longer saw the screen.
Only red.
My jaw ached from the pressure by the time I pushed away from my desk and slowly looked at my assistant.
“I checked. Nearly all their songs were written by him.” He looked warily to my cousin then his stare fell to the floor. “I’m sure they could be about anyone.”
I laughed darkly. “You’re not stupid enough to suggest that to me.”
&n
bsp; “No, of course not,” he mumbled quickly while taking another trembling step away.
“I want these lyrics. Now—” I stilled when my cousin threw a stack of papers on my desk.
“You’re not stupid enough to think I don’t know you.”
“Watch yourself.” The words were a clear warning—one that didn’t faze him.
One that should.
He dipped his head toward the papers. “Those are all the songs he wrote that have to do with a girl. Not that you would, but don’t bother thanking me. Your assistant is the one who pulled them all. I suggested he skip a step and print them.”
I looked at him with disdain then flipped through the first ten songs before dropping the papers on my desk.
There was no need to continue.
I already knew more than enough.
In every song, he laid claim on a girl who wasn’t his to claim.
“It’s time he knows that she belongs to me.”
“Because we haven’t done anything toward that,” my cousin said dryly. “If she hasn’t told him yet, I doubt she’ll tell him about any other brilliant threats you plan.”
I stared at my cousin for a few seconds, my mouth twisted in a cruel grin that he easily matched. “Thinking of putting a bullet in your head gets me through the day.”
He barked out a laugh. “Funny. I’ve always had to pull the trigger for you.” He stood and leaned over the desk, his eyes taunting. “If the day ever comes when you take the throne, you’ll be the first boss who came to be with no blood on his hands.”
My eyes narrowed into slits.
“Are you listening?” He paused, his head listing like he was waiting for something. “The whispers and rumors are rolling in about you. I’ll be here to fuel them.”
My hands fisted.
“What is it you want us to do this time?” my assistant asked once my cousin left.
It only took a moment for a plan to form. Excitement pulsed through me. My blood raced. “This one’s all mine.”
Libby
MY HEAVY EYELIDS PARTIALLY OPENED to my dark bedroom; confusion clouded my mind and sleep beckoned me.
I opened them again, not sure when they had closed, and tried to figure out what had woken me. Before I could find my way out of that place between sleep and awake, my body relaxed when an arm curled around my waist and pulled me close.
“You’re back,” I mumbled.
Lyric (Rebel Book 1) Page 17
