by Max Henry
“That’s fine.” She shakes her head, dismissively. “Do what you have to Mrs Epsom, but I wouldn’t feel right not being there to help my friends.”
Tuck’s knee bounces under my touch. I shift my attention back to him, noting the grinding jaw. “What? You want to go to?”
“Don’t you?”
“What happened to the whole ‘let’s put this to rest’ thing?” I remind him.
Wasn’t he the one trying to pull my head in when I wanted revenge?
“I tried that, and it didn’t work, remember?”
“You’re staying here,” I grumble.
I haven’t seen a lot of Kurt’s harsher side, but I sure as hell won’t be responsible for another division between Tuck and his dad.
“Maybe we’ll see you later. Maybe not.” Mandy shrugs. “But, I’m out.” She marches toward the door to the sound of Charlotte’s sigh.
Cate gives everyone a smile and a lift of one eyebrow, tossing a casual wave before she goes too.
I rest back on my haunches, resisting the urge to growl. I do want to go as well, and watching Mandy walk out the door that easily seriously has me contemplating the same.
But this involves more than just me. If I go, then Tuck would follow. And if he comes with, then I can almost guarantee Maggie and Beau wouldn’t be far behind.
The decision affects more than just me—the only thing that stops me from doing the same as Mandy.
“Uh, guys?” I start at the sound of her voice calling through the kitchen. “You need to come and see this.”
TUCK
Lacey bolts from between my legs, on her feet in a shot to head for the door. Beau almost tumbles to the floor in Maggie’s haste to get free, her mum not far behind as she hastily stuffs yarn away with a disgruntled sigh.
I stand and turn, leaning toward the window behind us to see what the hell goes down on the driveway. It seems we all missed somebody pulling in, judging by the sleek yellow nose of some overpriced car.
Last to arrive, I step out onto the porch to find absolute chaos.
The car is most definitely one that doesn’t belong here—a motherfucking Huracan. But what makes less sense is that the person seated on the arse end of the fucking supercar is one that wears Wranglers and Blundstones like he was born in them: Ed.
“What the fuck is this?” I holler, ignoring where Maggie tears strips off Johnson beside his truck.
“We brought you a solution.” Ed grins, leaping off the car. It rocks gently on its suspension, a holler erupting from the confines of the vehicle.
“What have you done?” Maggie’s mum pushes to the forefront with a frown. “Johnson? You tell me what this is right now.”
He lifts both hands as though asking her to relax and backs out of Maggie’s reach to tug the handle of his truck. “This one’s for you, Lace.” The back door opens to a cacophony of expletives that don’t seem right coming from the creature within.
“Oh, my—” Lacey’s hands muffle the rest, her eyes wide as she stares at a cuffed Libby.
“You release that girl this minute,” Charlotte hollers, shocked at the zip ties wound around the socialite’s wrists.
Johnson shakes his head. “Nah. I wouldn’t do that just yet. She’s quite aggressive, this one.”
“Was this your idea?” Libby screams toward Lacey. “Are you behind this?”
“I had no idea.” Her hands have dropped, but oddly enough, she sounds as though she’s about to laugh. “Hey, Ingrid.”
A redheaded girl waves from behind Libby, settled on the opposite end of the back seat.
For fuck’s sake.
“Yours is in the car,” Johnson tells me, jerking his chin toward the Huracan.
Mandy beats me to the punch, popping the passenger door open to find Richard restrained with the seatbelt looped through his tied hands.
“This is fucking insane,” Maggie hollers. “You could get done for kidnap, guys.”
“Like fuck, we could.” Johnson laughs her off. “You think these arseholes would press charges? What are they going to say? That they were forced to face up to the consequences of their actions?”
“Is that why you do this?” Maggie’s mum asks with a pair of craft scissors now magically in her hand. “This is your idea of sorting things out?”
I cut my gaze back to Richard, surprised to find him with his head laid back on the seat, a lazy grin cut across his lips. “What the hell is so funny about this?”
He rolls his head toward the open door. “I didn’t see it coming. That’s what. This is quite well done, don’t you think?”
“How did you get them both?” Cate asks Ed, who leans against the driver’s door of Johnson’s truck.
“Trickery,” Libby hollers from where Mrs Epsom releases her hands. “They damn well set me up.” The second she’s free, she pushes past Maggie’s mum, steamrolling the woman on her arse, to get to Richard. “Did you help them with this?” she asks, leaning down into the low-slung car.
“Whoa, there.” Johnson grabs her around the waist and pulls her back.
“You think I’d be tied up too if I’d helped?” Richard asks with one eyebrow raised. He caps the question with a cynical laugh. “God forbid you took fault for anything, right?”
“How is this my fault?” the blonde firecracker yells, kicking in Johnson’s hold.
“If it wasn’t for you,” Richard thunders in reply, leaning forward, “we’d be done with this stupid fucking town.”
Helping her mother to her feet with the assistance of Ingrid, Maggie scowls toward the Lambo. “Well? What are you going to do about it now?”
Johnson smirks, arms folded. “Good question.”
I hold Richard’s eye, aware both Mandy and Lacey stand at my back. “Got any bright ideas, buddy, or should we take you for a drive?”
“What are you going to do? Drop us in the woods like abandoned dogs?”
I smile, wide and tight-lipped. “Or the middle of nowhere halfway back to the city where there’s no cell signal.”
His face falls.
“Sounds like fun, don’t you think?”
“I want my phone.”
I slide my attention across to the stone-faced girl on my left. “No.” Looking over Libby’s shoulder to Johnson, I ask, “Who has it?”
He lifts the gold iPhone behind her, exploding into mocking laughter when the slim girl repeatedly leaps for it.
“Hand it over, you beast.”
“Beast?” Johnson positively snorts. “What kind of comeback is that?”
“A refined one,” Mags’ mum snaps. “Unlike how you’re behaving at present.” She levels Johnson with a motherly glare. “Give it back to the girl.”
He complies with a snarl. “First thing she’ll do is call daddy. Watch.”
“No.” Libby snaps her narrow eyes to him. “My lawyer.”
They trained this one well.
“Derek won’t care a shit what they’ve done to you,” Richard says, glaring up at her. “He’s preoccupied at the moment.”
“What do you know about that?” Lacey asks.
Cate wanders back from where she’d retrieved the helmets, and passes one to Mandy. “We’re gonna split.”
“Probably a good idea with this shit going on,” I grumble. “Might see you two later.”
Mandy glances across to Maggie and her mum. “Wouldn’t count on it.” Her fist knocks me in the shoulder. “Have fun here, though.”
I lock eyes with the dark-haired prick in the car. “Bound to.”
The girls mount up, and Maggie leads her mother indoors while Cate starts the bike. Libby’s head snaps up from her phone, eyes narrowing on my friends as they idle out onto the road where Cate then opens the throttle.
“What in the hell did I just witness?” Libby’s mouth curls down into a disgusted sneer.
“Freedom to do whatever the fuck you please,” Lacey snaps.
I could high-five my girl for that comeback, yet the jerk in the
car has my attention instead.
Richard tugs at the binds around his wrists and releases a weighty sigh. “I don’t suppose anyone feels generous enough to free me now?”
With a roll of his eyes, Ed steps forward and reaches into his pocket at the same time to produce a flip knife. Richard eyes the guy warily as he approaches, reluctantly giving Ed his back so that the zip ties are accessible.
I use the distraction to gain Lacey’s attention, sliding my arms around her from behind. She lifts a small palm to my exposed forearm, gently caressing the tanned skin.
“What are you thinking?” I whisper in her ear, keen to find out what rambling thoughts filter through her mind.
She sighs, relaxing back into me. “Too much to pick just one thought to share.”
“Overwhelmed?”
Her head twists to find me with her crisp blue eyes. “More uncertain.” The barest flare of her nostrils and I see it: the unease. “This could either fix things or make them worse,” she whispers.
“I know.” Resting my chin atop her head, I seek out Beau.
He walks around the Huracan with Johnson, eyeing the fantastic piece of machinery. We might resent these flashy fuckers from the city, but nobody can deny that seeing a car of that status is about as rare as unicorn shit around here.
The kind of people who live this far out wouldn’t blink twice at spending five hundred Gs on an award-winning broodmare but would baulk at forking over half that for a car.
“Is Greer here?”
Lacey looks toward the redhead: Ingrid. “No. Is she supposed to be?”
The girl shrugs. “She was at Christian’s country house. I thought they might have come here for the party.”
“We’re not going,” I state over Lacey’s head.
She stiffens in my hold.
The redhead flicks her gaze between the two of us, clearly curious.
“Ingrid,” Lacey starts, obviously sensing something needs to be done here. “This is Tuck.” She shifts out of my hold to introduce the two of us. “My boyfriend.”
I’m rendered speechless. I mean, I know we’ve told each other how we feel and shit, and her dad is aware we see each other just like everyone else in this goddamn town.
But that’s the first time she’s acknowledged what we are out loud.
“Wow.” Ingrid’s eyebrows rise. “Okay.”
I drag my gaze down the length of her to find one ankle heavily strapped with sports tape. Glancing toward Libby, I do the math. The whole tattoo incident was over some girl getting punished for what she did to this clique. Greer didn’t help orchestrate the plan, and Lacey wasn’t aware what the fuck was about to go down until it was too late.
Which leaves these two: Libby and Ingrid.
“That girl got ink because of you,” I say to the redhead.
She has the decency to look ashamed, as though she wishes the ground would swallow her whole. I don’t think that would be an adequate end for somebody who happily tattooed another against their will.
“That’s in the past, Tuck,” Lacey says softly, hands to my chest. “It’s dealt with.”
“How is she now?” I ask Ingrid. “The girl you hurt?”
She shrugs, eyes downcast. “I don’t know.”
“Fucking disgusting.” I spit at her feet and step away before I do worse.
The preened and primped princess, Libby, watches my every move.
“Take a fucking picture,” I snap. “It’d last longer.”
Her lips curl up in an amused grin, hand hanging redundant before her with one thumb above the screen. “Well, aren’t you a bundle of joy?”
“Excuse me?” I redirect so damn hard that my boot gouges a rut in the gravel drive.
“So angry,” she coos with mock concern.
I stop close enough to the bitch that her irritatingly floral perfume invades my nostrils. I swear I hear brain cells dying.
“Lacey always did like the broken ones.”
“What the heck is that supposed to mean?” she calls out, marching over.
Libby turns her head, spearing my girl with a look. “How long did you chase after Barrett like a love-sick puppy before you realised that he was a junkie?”
“He’s not a junkie,” Lacey defends.
“What else do you call somebody who uses drugs on the daily?”
I watch mesmerised as the girl I love morphs into something unrecognisable. “Your mother.” Her eyes harden, lips tweaked in a malicious grin while she stares down her opponent.
“Touche,” Libby drawls, seemingly unaffected. “But, I suppose you’d recognise that behaviour from your own, wouldn’t you?”
“She doesn’t pop pills like candy, same as your mum, Libby.”
“Oh, no. But she spreads herself around the men of Riverbourne like a damn disease.”
I catch Lacey’s arm mid-flight before she can make contact with the viper spreading her poison. Bringing Libby here was a mistake; the girl’s presence alone causes those around her to turn on one another.
“Let it go.”
Libby laughs, clearly feeling a little too safe for my liking. I snatch the phone from her limp hand and hurl it across the yard as hard as I fucking can. It hits the driveway first, bouncing and skittering until the concrete foundation of the house stops the iPhone dead in its tracks.
“What the hell?” The blonde spins, rushing for her ruined lifeline.
A slow clap echoes behind me, and I turn to find Richard poised sideways on the seat of the Huracan, impressed with the show.
Johnson stands on the far side of the car, one hand cupping his elbow while he hides his smirk with the other. I can’t read Beau, his hair shielding his face as he makes his way over to Ed beside the truck.
“Thank Christ somebody finally had the balls to do that,” Ingrid sighs.
Johnson loses it, laughing and shaking his head as he rounds the car. “Come on, arsehole.” He jerks his head for Richard. “Let’s take you indoors. I’ve got more important shit to do than babysit you.”
“Ugh.” Lacey throws both hands in the air, marching toward the porch.
Libby crouches near the garden, assessing the damage to her phone.
“That was epic,” Ed praises with a chuckle as he climbs in the passenger seat of Johnson’s truck.
I turn to find Ingrid still watching me.
“I like you.” She grins.
I scowl. “Yeah? Well, I still don’t like you.”
This day is fucked. One hundred per cent screwed up and unpredictable.
I should have stuck to horses.
GREER
“Am I hallucinating?” I frown at the apparition before me as Colt slows in the driveway.
“About what part?” he asks with one eyebrow hooked. “The fucking Huracan in my driveway or Libby bent double next to my house?”
“All of it?” I squeak.
Colt pulls the Explorer in behind Richard’s car. As we exit, Christian slides his damaged Porsche in the gap left behind us. I can’t do any more than stare at the crouched figure beside the bushes.
“What in the sweet fuckery is this?” Christian asks, rising from the driver’s seat. “Is that Libby?”
“I believe so.”
Barrett is the first of our stunned group to approach; head turned to check if Richard is anywhere near his car.
This whole scenario is just weird. Did Libby steal his car and hotfoot it out here? How would she know where to go? And why?
“Libby?” Barrett bends down to level their faces on his approach. “What are you doing here?”
Her head snaps up at the sound of his voice. “Fuck off.”
Sweet baby Jesus in a wicker basket; somebody finally broke the bitch.
“What’s going on?” I make my way past the parked vehicles and get close enough to spot the destroyed device in her hands. “Did you come alone?”
She snorts. “Yeah, Greer.” So much sarcasm. “I magically figured out how to drive a goddamn s
upercar.” None of it necessary.
“Look,” I snap, straightening my back. “If you don’t want our help, fine. But don’t shit on the people who are here to offer you help even after everything you’ve done to hurt them.”
“How saintly of you.”
“Come on,” I tell Barrett. “Let’s go inside. This is a waste of our time.”
Libby stays mute while we leave, eyeing our procession as all five of us head indoors. Her gaze lingers longest on Christian, as though attempting to calculate what he’s doing on our side.
In true Christian style, he offers her a smirk and a shrug.
Her lips twitch, hand tight on the broken phone. But she doesn’t move.
I step inside, side-stepping around Barrett to locate everyone in the adjacent living room. Finding Lacey, I thumb toward the door. “You realise Libby is sitting out front?”
She nods. “Johnson and Ed brought her here.”
“Who?”
She shakes her head. “Doesn’t matter. Get yourself comfortable; this could take a while.”
I move another step forward to breech the doorway and freeze at the shark-like eyes that study my interaction.
“So, you are here.”
“Surprise,” Richard retorts dryly, tucked beneath the picture window.
I shift my focus to the woman seated in the corner with untouched crochet piled in her lap. “Hi, Mrs Epsom.”
“Good to see you again, Greer.”
Maggie pats the floor beside her. “Sit your arse down.”
I realise that I hadn’t noticed Ingrid sitting on the floor next to her until now. It would make sense that she’d be involved considering she was at Libby’s. “I guess you made it out here, after all,” I tease.
She smiles. “Yeah.”
I do as Maggie asked and settle with the girls, somewhat relieved to be a place I feel more at home. As much as I appreciate Christian and the shelter he provided today, I never felt as though I could let my guard down while at his house.
Here, I feel welcomed. Supported.
“How did you get roped into this?” Richard asks Christian.
Our blond-haired ringleader leans a shoulder into the frame of the dividing archway between the living room and kitchen. “I could ask you the same.”
