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“Hiding behind enemy lines,” Delilah says on a scandalized gasp. “Now I want to tell Mother just so I can watch her have a meltdown.”
“Don’t.” Aiming my gaze across the loose gravel driveway, I take in the scene in front of me. It’s like something from a movie. The tree-line pathway leading to a wooden dock that stretches into a lake so clear and still, it reflects the sky and mountains, the setting sun sparkling on the surface of the water. “Her narcissistic bullshit is the last thing I need.” Still staring out across the water, I make myself ask. “What are they saying about me? The tabloids.”
“That you got tanked and crashed your girlfriend’s car into a bus bench and almost killed someone.” She says it like she’s reading the ingredients off the back of a cereal box. “When will you be home?”
“I don’t know...” Thinking about the mess Lexi dragged me into, I shake my head. “It depends on how long it takes my lawyer to get everything straightened out—why?”
“Because Silver turns twenty-one in a few weeks and Jane and I are going to surprise her by dragging her to Level to—”
“You’re nineteen, Lilah,” I remind her while I think about all the trouble she can and will get herself into if given half the chance. Even with dragging a couple of straight arrows like our sister and her best friend around, Delilah will have no trouble making headlines. “You have no business in a nightclub.”
“Relax,” she tells me on another one of those sighs. “It’s Level—I can’t even drink there. The new head of security has everyone who works there scared shitless to give me anything stronger than water. It’s lame.”
“If it’s lame, why do you go there?” I ask, not sure if I buy her story.
“I dunno...” she mumbles it which means she goes there for a very specific reason—she just doesn’t want to tell me. “So, will you be home in time or not?”
“Probably not,” I try to sound upset about it but nightclubs have never been my thing. Reaching up, I swipe a rough hand over my face. “Aren’t you going to ask me?”
“Ask you what?” To her credit, Delilah sounds completely confused.
“If I did what they’re saying.”
“I don’t have to ask,” she tells me in a matter-of-fact tone. “I know you didn’t do it.”
Leaning back, I rest my head on top of the chair and close my eyes. “How can you be so sure. Maybe I did.”
“Please.” That matter-of-fact tone again, this time capped off with a scoff. “I hate to be the one to remind you, Went but I’m the fuck-up and you’re the rescue ranger. Unfortunately for both of us, our roles were decided a long time ago and neither of us have ever been one to buck family expectation.”
ELEVEN
Kaitlyn
When I get back to Northpoint, Damien’s brother is asleep on the porch, passed out in one of the gliders, front door standing wide open.
Opening the hatch on the old Landcruiser my mom uses for trips to town, I heft out the cardboard box full of groceries I picked up after dinner at the diner with Abbey.
We had a great time. Talking and laughing. Getting along, which isn’t always the case with us, but as soon as Margie slid the bill onto the table and told me to pay up front, Abbey start squirming in her seat and it didn’t take a genius to figure out why.
I could hear them through the wide, open doorway that connects the diner to the Saddle. Teenagers talking and laughing in that loud way they have like they’re trying to draw attention to themselves, the sound of them intermingling with the sharp clack of pool balls and music from the jukebox. Even though it’s still mid-May, Barrett Valley homeschools are mostly done for the summer and kids are celebrating.
“Kaity...” Abbey says my name in that pleading tone of hers—the one that all but guarantees that she’s going to ask for something and that she expects to get it.
When was the last time Princess Abigale did anything around this ranch that would so much as scuff a nail?
“Go on,” I tell her picking up the check so I can wave her away with it. “I’ll be back to get you at midnight.” When she opens her mouth to argue, I shake my head. “Midnight, Abbey—not a minute later.”
“Fine.” Realizing she sounds like an ungrateful brat, Abbey gives me a smile. “Thanks, Kaity.” She leans across the table to drop a loud, smacking kiss on my cheek before she bolts for the doorway. As soon as she disappears through it, I hear a loud cheer go up when her friends spot her approach.
Remember when you had friends? Remember when people didn’t whisper about you behind your back, right after they got finished smiling to your face?
Moving a bit slower, I stand, taking our dinner check to the front of the restaurant where Margie is waiting to ring me up. Passing it to her across the counter, I wait awkwardly while she tallies the bill.
“You know,” Margie says while she punched at the keys on the register with her index finger. “There’s no law that says you can’t go with her.”
Yes, there is—the law of Tom Barrett.
“I can’t.” I give her a flat smile while I pass a pair of twenties to her when the total pops up on top of the register. “I’ve got some errands to run for my father.”