Page 25 of Filthy Little Pretties

Anger’s on his face, and it grabs hold of me.What the hell is happening?

“Did I miss some special Upper East Side edition ofThe Jerry Springer Show? Sister?”

Grey’s jaw tenses, as he shoots Caroline the kind of look I hope to never be on the receiving end of. When I glimpse her over my shoulder, it’s clear she doesn’t want it aimed at her either. My head turns back to Grey, waiting for an answer, but Liam answers from behind, whispering into my hair.

“Stepsister. Dad remarried two years after—”

“How didn’t I hear about your parents getting a divorce?” I blurt out, feeling Liam’s hand give a small squeeze to my thigh.

The table falls silent, so much so that I turn back to everyone confused, feeling like I’m missing something.

“What?”

Liam pats my leg, but all the other sets of eyes shift in different directions. My head swings back to Grey. His answer is as quiet and as empty as the expression taking over his face. “There’s a lot you didn’t hear about, Cherry.”

He pushes back from his seat and stands, directing his words over my head at Liam. “I’m going outside.”

Something’s off. I start to stand, but Liam grabs my hand. “No, leave him alone.”

“But—”

“She died, Van. Car accident.”

“She drove into a tree—” Caroline interjects, and when our eyes meet, I can see her regret. “I didn’t think. I mean, I did, but I didn’t mean—I’m sorry.”

She directs her words to Liam, who nods before turning back to me. “He doesn’t talk about it. To anyone. Ever.”

The tips of my fingers draw to my lips as I look back over my shoulder, watching Grey walk outside.

“You.” Liam launches into a lecturing tone, staring at Caroline and readjusting forward in his seat. “Stop being such a shit because you’re jealous. We still love you.”

“Wow, lucky me,” she drawls.

“Agreed. Now shut your beautiful face and eat something. You’re too skinny. You’d probably be more pleasant with some meat in you.”

The ice princess blushes. Interesting. Leaning forward, I catch her eyes.

“Don’t get too comfortable, Caroline. I haven’t decided if you get to stay.”

I reach down and grab my bag. Pushing my chair back to stand, I search through the windows, trying to spot Grey.

“Don’t.”

“Liam. I’m going.”

“He won’t talk. You can’t fix him, Van. We aren’t twelve anymore.”

I don’t have an answer, because he’s right. We aren’t twelve. But I just found out one of my very best friends suffered a loss. I’m not going to sit here with thoughts and prayers. My shoulders give a shrug before I turn and walk away toward the doors Grey walked out of.

“You’ve been warned.”

Liam’s voice follows me as I exit, my eyes immediately searching for Grey. A thick waft of smoke billows out from around the corner of the building as Grey steps into view, a cigarette dangling from his lips.

“You’re a smoker now…how very ‘supermodel chic’ of you.”

“High fashion is a hard life. What are you doing out here? Come to console the grieving son?”

He’s terrified I might do just that because while he’s doing a fantastic impersonation of indifference, I can see his fear, and it guts me. But Grey doesn’t need my sympathy; the boy I knew would’ve hated that. He’d much rather fall into a faux indifference. He’ll only come when he’s ready, never one minute before.