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CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

PERRY

St. Clare is so … so … Before I can sink into that handsome face and his pretty words, the conversation I overheard earlier comes back to me.

About Yanni.

And them swapping me for Colin.

I clear my throat and shift away a little. “So … there’s something. A little thing. I have it in my head, and I need it cleared up so that I’m not worrying about it for days on end and?—”

“What is it?”

I can’t look at him as I draw in a breath for courage and let it out all at once. “I overheard you talking about trading me.”

St. Clare is silent. So silent for so long that I take a glimpse over to make sure he’s still there. Those pretty lips are parted, and the regret looking back at me is all I need to forgive him.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers. “I don’t know how much you heard, but I know … I know it must have sounded bad. Horrible. And … yes. We were planning that. When you first asked to tag along with us, I was so worried about Colin, and Lars was worried you couldn’t be trusted, and so it … it made sense.”

“Right.”

“But we couldn’t do it. I know that doesn’t make it much better, but we talked about it, and the thought of calling Yanni … of betraying you like that …”

I reach over and cover his hand with mine. “I know. I asked Yanni if you called, and he said no. So, uh, thank you? For not fucking me over?”

“I’m sorry we ever planned to.”

I squeeze his hand, and he doesn’t pull it away, which makes me all hot in the gut. Warm in the cheeks.

Then his stomach growls so loudly I look down in shock. “The fuck was that?”

St. Clare groans. “I haven’t eaten all day. I’ve been too worried about you.”

I reach for my plate and grab a sandwich from my stack, then hold it out to him. “Eat.”

His fingers skim mine as he takes it with a grateful smile. I want to say things with him are easy because the sex is hot and he lets me explore that, but sitting here right now isn’t easy. I’m buzzing. Tongue feeling too big for my mouth. Trying not to stare at him while he eats but catching glances anyway. There’s something taking up space in my chest, building brick by brick and filling all the holes that life has torn out of me.

“Thanks,” he mutters.

I nudge him gently. “We’re a team.”

He likes that, which means I like it even more. I’m still not convinced that I fit with them, but it’s something I’d like to try. I’m always scrambling for my place in the world, and I’d scramble harder if my place could be here.

“Tell me something good about Colin,” I say as we eat. Am I convinced that he didn’t disappear to leave St. Clare to pick up the mess? Nope. But it does sound like he’s in some serious shit, and I’d very much like to help St. Clare get him out of it.

He’s quiet for a moment. “He’s always been an old soul. Our parents split before I can really remember—our mom couldn’t handle being a mom—and when Dad met our stepmom, I was a bit of a dickhead to her. Mostly it was that someone new was coming into our space. Colin sat me down—he was probably ten? Eleven?—and told me to cut it out. She didn’t deserve it, and since Dad had looked after us for so long by himself, it was our turn to look after him by making sure she felt welcome in our home. Things didn’t change overnight—I was a kid; I didn’t really grasp it—but he kept at me, and I’m glad he did because she’s great. That always stuck out as this huge divide between us. The way Colin sees the world so black-and-white. Sometimes I worry he doesn’t have emotion, but then he does things like get me this watch …” St. Clare holds up his arm so I can see the one he’s wearing. “And I remember we show how we love each other in different ways.” St. Clare sighs. “I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

His sadness makes me sad. “You won’t have to figure it out.”

“I wish I could be like you.”

That’s shocking because never ever in my life has anyone ever wanted to be like me. “Why?”

“You always believe in the best. There aren’t many people like that. Some people say they do, but most don’t really believe it.”

I tug at the bracelet on my wrist. “I wasn’t always like this,” I say. “My parents died when I was eighteen. It feels like so long ago, and then it also doesn’t.” The bright red plastic strawberry stares up at me, and it’s like I can see Mom’s fingers as she threaded it onto the elastic. “I sort of lost myself for a bit. Like I existed in a dream and I was waiting for the real world to blast back into focus.” Grief doesn’t work like that though. There’s no stark moment where everything is better again. “I had to fight my way out of that funk. I don’t even know how long it took, but one day, I’d wake up and have the energy, and the next, I’d be back to blurred edges and numbness.”

“I can’t imagine.”

I chew, deep in thought for a moment. “It’s hard to remember that time, but I obviously did it. I got there.” I pull myself from those thoughts. “Now I figure it’s easier to look ahead and see happiness when I’ve already been through the worst moment of my life and survived. ”

“The more I learn about you, the more you catch me off guard. I like it.”

I settle back into the couch and smile at him. It’s not very bright in here, but I swear I could find St. Clare even in the dark. When it comes to being hopeful, my main hope right now is that we can make it through this mess and that once it’s over, St. Clare will give me a chance to see if there’s anything more between us than scorching hot sex.

If he didn’t look exhausted, I’d suggest it now. But his usually amused eyes have dulled, and his permanently quirked mouth is a flat line.

“You need to sleep,” I tell him.

“Don’t know if I can. It feels like we keep running into dead ends, and I’m stressed out of my brain.” St. Clare rubs his eyes. “I just wish I knew whether it was Colin who made those withdrawals. Maybe if I had evidence he’s still okay, it’d make everything so much easier.”

How the hell do we get that evidence? Walking into a bank isn’t an option. But if he used an ATM, most of those have cameras … right? “Do you know which ATMs he visited?” I ask.

St. Clare thinks for a second. “Yeah, Livy sent me the list.”

“Right. So what we need is someone who can hack into surveillance systems, then.”

“You say that like it’s so easy.”

For once, I think it might be. “It is. When you’re friends with the baddie bunch.”