by S. Massery
I thought the French style was Amelie’s, but apparently it grew on Jackie, too.
I let it happen and wait for the punch line.
“How have you been?” she asks.
I haven’t talked to her since… well, last year. Before the funeral party, I’d guess. She was never warm and fuzzy toward me, and it made sense to me to avoid her.
And here she is… actively seeking me out.
A knot forms in my stomach.
“I’ve been fine,” I say. What else can I say? She’s not looking for the truth about my brother, or the happiness I’ve finally found with Eli.
Or Margo and Caleb’s nightmare with their mysterious Unknown, all their secrets, and how it’s been slipping between mine and Eli’s relationship like black oil. It’s affecting us even if we can’t admit it.
“You poor thing,” Jackie tuts. “So strong.”
I shake my head. “Not sure what you mean.”
“The mere fact that you are able to be out in public without a boatload of concealer and eye drops…” She pouts. “I wish I had that courage.”
I suppress my sigh. “I’m sorry, Jackie, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Ah.” She leans in, like she’s going to tell me a secret. “Eli told us about your little game.”
I rear back. “What?”
“You know, where you guys were just pretending? It explains a lot, really.”
Does it?
Our relationship hasn’t been fake in a long time—but maybe he’s been telling old stories. How we first met and became friends.
“Still. That you’d be so open with him having sex with other girls so blatantly—”
I cough. “What?”
“And especially now that it’s public,” she says, not missing a beat. “I mean, you can see why I thought you’d be upset!”
“He’s sleeping with other girls?”
She tips her head back, looking down her nose at me. “Just one, as far as I know. They hooked up at a party. But where there’s one, there’s probably more. Like cockroaches.”
I can’t see straight.
“You took him back after he planned that stupid funeral thing,” she adds. “That was surprising. But then he encourages your brother to party, like a complete asshole? Everyone knew Noah was coming off the rails, but Eli just kept encouraging him.”
“He’s not off the rails,” I snap.
I know better than to believe her about… half of that. She’s Amelie’s sidekick, of all people. So I take a deep breath, then turn on my heel and leave her standing there.
Politeness be damned.
I go straight home, but once I’m in the driveway, I don’t go in. I open my phone and go to Eli’s social media, scrolling through pictures people have tagged him in recently. There’s a new photo from just a few days ago. One of the new cheerleaders posted it and tagged him, although only his arm, slung over her shoulder, is in the picture. She’s grinning like a fool at the camera in a skimpy white dress.
Where was I?
That pressing lump is back in my throat, and I’m finding it hard to swallow.
I click on the girl’s profile.
Eli’s lacrosse jersey number, 54, is in her bio with a black heart next to it.
Bile rushes up, and I jerk my car door open just in time.
That’s it. But it isn’t just it. She basically just accused Eli of being the reason Noah had a drug problem, and the funeral party that he staunchly denied.
And I believed him.
I jump out of the car and race upstairs.
My room is an assortment of all things Eli.
But before I can even deal with that, I call Noah. He isn’t allowed to have a cell phone at the inpatient facility, so I wait through a long series of clicks before it transfers me to his room phone.
“Hello?”
“It’s me,” I say. “And I’m sorry I’m even going to ask you this, but I have to know.”
Noah is silent for a moment, then exhales. “I already know what you’re going to ask me.”
“Oh?”
“It’s about the partying, isn’t it?”
I bite my lip. “Please tell me Eli didn’t have anything to do with turning you on to—”
“He introduced me to the local dealer,” Noah admits. “Kaiden’s supplier had run dry, and I was itching to try something stronger than pot.”
We’re two for three.
I close my eyes. “Thank you. I love you.”
“Love you, too. Give Mom and Dad a hug for me.”
I nod, although I know he can’t see me. That stupid lump is back in my throat.
And then I take a deep breath, grab a box from our back hall, and get started expelling Eli Black from my life.
Soon, everything is packed. Notebooks and random shit I didn’t even realize I was collecting, homework assignments we used to study from, pens and a bouncy ball from one of those twenty-five cent machines.
And then my fingers trip over the notebook.
It’s black moleskin, soft and worn down.
He’d miss it the most—which is exactly why I don’t want to give it back.
Part of me wonders if he’ll even notice. He doesn’t want to be a lawyer, anyway.
This notebook is filled with scribbles of his conversations with his father, details on cases Mr. Black has been trying to get Eli to think about. Like looking at a puzzle from a different direction.
Critical thinking, our teachers might call it.
Without a second thought, I shove it under my mattress.
I pick up the box and carry it downstairs, sticking it into the foot space of my front passenger seat.
Mom follows me as far as the porch. “What are you doing?”
“Dumping Eli’s ass,” I say.
She blinks. “Oh. He was a lovely boy.”
“Not lovely enough.” I shake my head. If I think about it, I’ll start crying.
So I don’t. I stuff every emotion except anger deep inside me.
He’s a liar and a cheat.
Keep telling yourself that, Riley.
All the way to Eli’s house, I say it out loud. He lied. He cheated.
With some girl younger and skinnier than me, and a cheerleader to boot.
God, how I hate him.
And I need to keep hating him. If I don’t, he’ll worm his way back inside my heart—especially when I’m vulnerable. Eli can’t do that. I know he’s going to try, and I… I know myself. I’d forgive him. This is my way of cutting the strings that tie us together.
I shudder.
I’ll give his stuff back, then give the notebook to my dad. He’s a prosecutor—surely he can make sense of the defense notes Eli and his dad worked on.
It’s not just what I’ll do—it’s what I have to do to survive.
32
Eli
“My dad defended James Courier,” I say.
Lawrence West hasn’t gone for his gun, but I don’t trust it. He’s staring at Riley like she’s the one who landed his brother-in-law in prison.
His gaze snaps to mine. “I’m well aware.”
“Then you’re aware that the whole case was a clusterfuck from the beginning.” I studied my ass off for this. I still know it like the back of my hand.
It was the last big case of my dad’s that would go to trial before I left for school. We had been prepping for it all year, compiling little bits of evidence to sway a jury into believing Courier’s innocence.
“The burden of proof lies with the prosecution,” Dad often repeated.
But it didn’t mean that we could sit idly by. Each testimony, each twisted word and piece of DNA, told its own part of the story.
Shuffle the board, hide some of the pieces, and we could create our own narrative.
That’s what our goal was, anyway.
It was a case I’d just started working on with him at the start of senior year.
I made the mistake of leavin
g my notebook at Riley’s house. I hated the stupid thing and what it stood for—one step closer to leaving her, one step closer to a future I didn’t want. So I left it there regularly.
And I didn’t miss it when it was gone.
I just missed her.
Lawrence frowns. “I’m aware. But you had a plan.”
There’s a sense of disconnect floating through me right now.
I’m here, but I’m not.
I’m here, but I’m stepping into new shoes.
Suddenly, it becomes crystal clear that only the successful defense of Riley’s case will end with both of us walking out of here in one piece.
I keep her behind me and clear my throat.
Dad and I had logged my hours. We even put it down as an unpaid internship on my college applications.
“Your brother-in-law committed a murder and left evidence behind,” I say. “DNA. The weapon. We didn’t have a plan so much as a strategy—and even that went to shit because Courier was an idiot.”
Lawrence’s brows lower.
Note to self: don’t piss off the judge and jury.
And then a memory sparks, so loud I should’ve remembered it before.
“It was because her dad returned it to your office, isn’t it? You were there,” I ask.
“James and I were meeting with your father when Appleton arrived,” Lawrence says.
Riley squeaks, and I glance back at her.
Maybe she didn’t know he returned it. The fact that he did it publicly was the icing on the cake. He made sure everyone knew how our team had fucked up, letting sensitive information fall into the hands of his daughter.
Her fingers slip into my back pocket, and I try not to react.
I have no idea who she’d call. Yet, I get the impression that even if Lawrence is locked away, people will keep coming for her.
“Riley didn’t give the prosecutor’s office any new information,” I inform him. “Our whole plan was centered around diverting attention from the fact that Courier knew—and hated—the man he killed. Anyone with a brain knew that this case was next to impossible.”
She stills.
Maybe she thought she had done something irreparable. Helped her dad, the case.
The only thing she hurt was our relationship… and I’m still left wondering why.
I push that aside, because Lawrence is approaching. He glares at Riley over my shoulder.
“Okay,” he finally says. “Consider yourself lucky, girl.”
I stay still as he motions to Kaiden, and they cross the gym to the outside doors.
“Holy shit,” she whispers.
The doors slam behind them, and we’re left in silence.
I don’t know if I’m pissed at her or them, but the relief that we’re safe slides into anger. How did we miss the fact that she was being stalked by the West family? A huge family in New York City with—alleged—Mafia ties.
Fuck.
“They must’ve been behind Noah getting hurt. He refused to say—”
Her head whips around. Sirens scream in the distance, racing toward us.
“What did you tell them?”
She shakes her head. “I didn’t say anything. I just dialed nine-one-one and hoped they could hear some of what you were saying.”
I grunt. I don’t really want another altercation with Masters, but it might be too late. The door opens again, and the detective strolls in.
“Well, you sure know how to keep your fathers in business,” Masters calls to us. “You two all right?”
So cavalier.
I roll my eyes. “No thanks to your sad police work, Detective.”
He chuckles. “Still got a fighting spirit, I see? Even in the face of danger. Maybe you were meant for the other side of the court room. Come on, now.”
Riley starts to go, but stills when I don’t follow.
She turns around and raises her eyebrows.
We still have a hard conversation ahead of us, but right now? I think I may have just figured out my future.
I grab her face and kiss the hell out of her.
She leans into me, and my whole body gets a good dose of tingles before she breaks away from me. I’ll need to concentrate on something other than her breasts pressed to my chest to get my body back to a normal temperature.
She grins, taking my hand again.
Outside, Lawrence stands by a police car. Kaiden is nowhere to be seen, but the older man looks over and smiles at me.
I shiver.
“Don’t worry about him,” Detective Masters says. “He’s been warned to stay out of Rose Hill, and I’d recommend both of you file a restraining order.”
I don’t bother telling him that there are plenty of people willing to do Lawrence’s handiwork.
“Is it okay if we go?” I ask.
He nods. “Stop by the station Monday to leave a statement. Both of you. We like things on the record around here.”
Maybe that’s a jab at me.
Riley and I go to our vehicles, but she surprises me by climbing into the passenger seat of the truck.
“Is this okay?” she asks. “I don’t trust myself to drive.”
I nod. We get on the road before she twists toward me.
“You said the notebook didn’t give Dad any new information?”
“Nothing he didn’t already know. Maybe it could’ve helped him if we had stuck with that strategy going into Courier’s trial, but we changed everything when we knew it might be compromised.” I scoff. “Dad told Lawrence it was nothing to be worried about, but he still blamed your family when his brother-in-law was found guilty. Clearly.”
She bites her lip.
“So…”
I sigh. “I won’t lie, it hurt that you did it. That’s what I was most pissed off about. You betrayed my confidence so easily, and you never even talked about why.”
“Because you were playing with me,” she whispers.
What?
I pull over to the side of the road so I can face her. “Run that by me again?”
“The whole time we were together. It was just you trying to feel something, wasn’t it? It wasn’t real. And then the funeral party, and the girl—”
I grab her hands. My blood is on fire, and I think my heart might gallop right out of my chest. “Stop. Just… stop.”
She blinks back tears.
“Riley Appleton, the only thing I was feeling last year was love.” I touch her chin when she drops her face and avoids my gaze.
Slowly, she looks back at me.
“I was in love with you. I didn’t say it because I was terrified of those emotions, and we were both using each other to stay happy. Whoever wanted us apart was probably a manipulative bitch, don’t you think?”
I can only imagine who fed her lies.
She sighs. “You loved me.”
Here’s the kicker: “I still do.”
“Even after everything?” She unbuckles her seat belt and scoots toward me.
I stay perfectly still, and she maneuvers herself onto my lap. She puts her hands on my shoulders, staring at me with a mixture of wonder and confusion.
“Yeah, dummy. Even after everything.”
She leans into me. “Kiss me.”
Happily.
I reclaim her mouth, and our lips fuse together. She gasps. Her tongue slides against mine. This is new and familiar all at the same time, and we reacquaint ourselves with each other.
She finds the hem of my shirt and pushes it up, dragging her nails up my abs.
Goosebumps break out along my back.
I shift my hips, showing her exactly what I think about her.
She groans, grinding into me.
We’re dry humping in my car like—well, I was going to say horny teenagers, but that’s what we are.
I wrap my arms around her and move us so she’s flat on the bench seat.
“Eli,” she whispers. Her hands go to my jeans.
Part of me wants to savor this. Th
e fact that we’re here again, with all our truths in the open.
But the reality?
I can’t fucking wait.
She has the button and zipper undone before I can process it.
I attack her pants. I yank them down her legs, and we’re a tangle of limbs for a brief moment. There’s a condom in my glove compartment, and I quickly roll it on.
And then I settle against her again, and my dick twitches. It’s been too long.
I missed her.
She’s already wet for me, and I kiss her at the same time that I plunge inside her.
Her hips buck, and her back arches into me.
“Fucking hell, Eli,” she groans.
I grin against her lips.
And then I start to move.
My fingers find her clit, urging her on as I thrust. She whimpers, her nails scraping along my back. My biceps.
I’ll be covered in scratch marks, and I love it.
“Eli,” she repeats.
Her body tenses, and she comes with a gasp. Her whole body clenches around me, and I ride out the pulsing sensation.
Before she’s come down off the high, I wrap my hand around the back of her neck, holding her still, and pick up my speed.
She meets my gaze, and her expression is filled with warmth. Her cheeks are red, her hair a wild halo around her head.
“I love you,” she says.
I pound into her, swivel my hips, and her eyes roll back for a second. Her eyelids flutter.
My orgasm explodes out of nowhere, and I bow my head down to hers as I come. Our foreheads are pressed together. She reaches up and cups my cheek, then kisses me again.
Maybe her words are post-coital bliss, or maybe it’s the truth.
I’ll lean toward the truth.
“I love you, too.”
33
Riley
I wish I could say things ended with happily ever after, but that isn’t the case. There’s Mom to deal with, and Noah. Hell, even my father deserves a word or two.
But one change is that Eli is now firmly at my side, and he’s not leaving.
Which is good, because last week I might’ve accidentally left the masquerade mask Margo got for me on my desk, and he spotted it. His face lit up. The next day, a black dress was delivered to my house.
Mom’s seventy-two-hour hold is up, and she’s medically stable enough to be transferred to the inpatient facility Noah went to. He gave it a thumbs-up, so Mom didn’t argue. She didn’t even try.
