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CHAPTER FIFTEEN

PERRY

It feels strange that I only saw Margot this morning, and for some reason, when I get to Elle’s place and spot her front door, I have the strongest urge to cry.

Over a door.

Someone help me.

The sushi I picked up is heavier than usual, and I’m relieved St. Clare got the bill for this one because apparently Lars eats a fuckload more than any normal human should. I tried to convince the two of them to wait in the car, but they’re both standing behind me when I knock like some kind of bodyguard. Technically, I said I’d help Lars out with protecting St. Clare, but that was a total lie. If he’s right that I’m the one in danger, I need Lars’s protection just as much as St. Clare does.

That man is going to have his work cut out for him.

The door opens, and it’s Elle’s smiling face I’m greeted by. With her blond pixie cut, septum piercing, and sweet face, she reminds me of a fairy. A very mouthy, fun-loving fairy.

“Food!” she all but screams in my face before pulling me into a hug. Then she freezes, and when she slowly eases away from me, her gaze is skipping between St. Clare and Lars.

“Ahh, these are my friends.”

“You have friends? ”

“I have lots of friends, actually.”

Elle eyes me suspiciously. “Are these friends in the room with us?”

Is she going blind? I hook my thumb back over my shoulder. “Well, yes. They’re literally right there.”

She looks them over, and her gaze settles on Lars. “You guys don’t look like friends?”

“We’re … in our trial period,” he answers.

Because of course he does. “You should’ve asked the other one,” I point out.

Elle turns to St. Clare instead. “Same question.”

“Same answer.” It’s like I can hear his smirk as he says it.

“Where’s Margot?” I step around Elle. “I’m feeling very outnumbered right now.”

“Given she’s been cursing your name since you got off the phone, I don’t think she’s going to help you.”

Okay, so I really, really shouldn’t have called her ranty. Though on the flip side, you could argue that if she wasn’t ranty, I never would have called her that. This is on her. Which are words I will never utter aloud.

“Sushi’s here,” I call, hoping to distract her with food, but she mustn’t be hangry because when I join her in the living room, which has been painted to look like a rainbow threw up in here, she’s straight up glaring at me.

“Ah … food?” I hold up the bags, and Margot scoffs.

“Stop trying to distract me.”

“I’m not. I’m …” I reach into the bag and pull out the spicy tuna rolls. “Bringing a peace offering.” I shake the container her way.

“I’m not hangry, asshole.”

“Spicy, spicy tuna …”

“ Perry .”

I slump and slide the container onto the coffee table instead. “I’m sorry, Margy.”

“Don’t ‘Margy’ me. What trouble are you in this time?”

Elle, St. Clare, and Lars choose that moment to enter. “Ah, this time?” I try to play off her words. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. There’s always something.”

I’m trying very, very hard not to get offended, and it might be harder to do if she wasn’t, well, right. But I don’t need my new friends to know that my sister thinks I’m a complete fuckup, thanks. I’ve put in the hard work to get St. Clare to like me, and I sort of want to keep it that way.

“So, these are my friends …” I mutter.

She barely even looks at them. “Come on. What are we bailing you out of this time?”

An acidic taste fills my mouth, and I try to swallow it all back. I love Margot, and I hate the thought of disappointing her, but I never seem to be able to stop. “N-nothing,” I say. “No favor. Just dinner.”

Her expression softens from a replica of Mom’s disappointment to Dad’s worry. “Are you okay?”

“Always.”

Margot and Elle exchange a look.

“Anyway, I have to … to drop this off. We’re, umm, headed out of town for a few days. Maybe longer?—”

“What about your job?”

“I cleared it with them.” It hurts to lie, knowing that I probably won’t have a job next week.

“You just started. They can’t be happy about that.”

“I am allowed days off.”

Before Margot can get cranky with me again, St. Clare takes over. “It’s my fault. I have a family emergency, and Perry offered to give me a ride out of town.”

Margot glares at him. “Who are you?”

“His … friend.”

“On a trial period, apparently,” Elle adds.

“Well, sorry, friend,” Margot says, crossing her arms. “But Perry needs his job. He can’t afford to take time off. ”

“Maybe you two need to have this conversation literally anywhere else,” Elle says. “ Away from people.”

Margot turns on her heel and storms off toward the bedroom, and I hurry after her. There’s only a short, bright purple hall from the living area into the sunshine-yellow bedroom, but when I get there, she’s standing by the bed, hands buried in her thick, black hair.

I close the door softly behind me, and she glances up.

“Why are you doing this?” she whispers.

“I … family emergency.”

Margot rolls her eyes so hard I’m surprised they stay in her skull. “You always do this. You get a decent job, start making money, look like you might be able to support yourself, and then something comes up. Every time. I can’t keep going through this with you.”

It’s hard not to cry at that. Gotta say, knowing that I keep letting her down hits me hard, but this isn’t my fault. Mostly. Sort of. She wanted me to get a job!

Before I can start my feeble defense, she sits on the side of the bed and pats the place beside her.

I sit and immediately wrap my arm around her. “I’m an idiot. I’m sorry.”

“You’re not an idiot. That’s the frustrating part.”

“I make terrible choices, then.”

That gets a tiny laugh from her. “You really do.”

“You can tell me to fuck off, you know? Make me deal with these issues alone.”

“I don’t want you to do it alone. It’s just … and I …”

“What?”

Her big eyes are sad all the way through when she looks at me. “I wish that I could help you instead of it being Elle all the time. And even more than that, I wish you’d help your damn self.”

“I’m trying.”

“You say that, but I’m yet to see it.”

Unfortunately, that’s fair .

She sighs. “Okay, out with it. What is this not-very-big but medium-big-sized favor?”

“Well … you know how Elle’s brother has that apartment he doesn’t use?”

Margot’s mouth flattens, which isn’t a good sign, but that doesn’t stop me.

“Any chance we could use it for a couple of days? A week, tops. Probably. And we’ll keep it super clean and look after his stuff and?—”

“I thought you were going away. Family emergency?”

Dammit, St. Clare. “Look, this doesn’t work very well if you keep asking me questions because I’m not smart enough to answer them all.”

“Are you in some kind of trouble? Because if those men are bad news, all you have to do is give me a sign. We can protect you.”

I know she thinks that, but nothing on fucking Earth will make me put her at risk. I force what’s supposed to be an easy smile. “I’m fine. Nothing to worry about. I promise.”

She doesn’t believe me. “If something happens to you?—”

“It won’t. I just … we really need somewhere to go. Just for a little bit.”

She eyes me. “Your apartment finally getting fumigated?”

“Something like that.” There’s extermination going on, but it has nothing to do with bugs.

I can tell it’s completely against everything she wants to say when she gets out, “I’ll see what I can do.”

“You’re the best.” I watch her expectantly.

“Right.” She doesn’t make an attempt to move.

“We’re sort of on a time crunch.”

She gets up to leave, but before she can reach the door, I can’t help but add, “Oh, and if you and Elle could call off work for a few days, maybe lie low, spend some time really reconnecting or whatever, that would be a huge help.”

Margot’s frozen, hand on the doorknob, shoulders pulled up near her ears. “Got it,” she finally says before leaving.

I’m never going to live this one down.