Page 7

Eleven Years Ago, June

The sun had not yet dropped beneath the horizon when I tucked my mom into bed and biked the two miles over to Tyson’s. It was so humid I should’ve borrowed her car, but I got so little time to myself that the twenty minutes alone with my thoughts was worth showing up damp with perspiration.

I found Tyson and Cody poolside in the soft evening light tending the smoking grill, longnecks dangling from their hands.

Cody was slightly taller and broader than Tyson, but somehow took up less space, his personality as reserved as Tyson’s was brash, his sense of style trending toward traditional—like the golf shirt he now wore—while Tyson was more of a rock ’n’ roll kind of guy.

“Hi, gorgeous.” Tyson lifted my backpack from my shoulders and set it in a chair. “Does this mean you’re staying the night?”

I smiled. “Maybe.”

I didn’t usually spend the night with Tyson, because I wanted to be there to help Mom if she awoke in the night in pain, but I knew that after the amount of energy she’d expended while we were at the beach today, she’d be out cold until morning.

He pulled me closer, slipped an arm around me, and kissed me. “Mmm…salty.” I pushed him away, stripping down to my bikini to dive into the pool.

I emerged refreshed and Tyson handed me a towel with a naughty grin as I approached the grill, wringing out my long hair.

“What do we have here?” I asked Cody.

He gave me an affectionate pat on the shoulder. “Shrimp, bell pepper, and pineapple skewers.”

“Yum. What’s that?” I asked, pointing at the palm-size packets of tinfoil.

“Marinated lionfish we caught diving today,” Tyson said.

I raised my brows. “Are we going to die tonight?”

“I watched a video online on how to fillet it,” Cody said. “It’s supposed to be good. And it won’t kill you, even if I did it wrong.”

“A ringing endorsement,” I said dryly.

But when we sat down to eat at the table on the covered porch, we all had to agree that the lionfish was actually quite good, white and flaky and slightly buttery, similar to mahi-mahi.

After dinner, Cody topped up our glasses of white wine as Tyson popped the cap on another Coors Light. “Sure you don’t want to drink something that doesn’t taste like piss?” Cody teased.

“One man’s piss is another man’s wine,” Tyson quipped.

“Ew,” I said, rising to walk out to the glowing pool. The pavement was still warm with the heat of the day as I sat on the edge and dangled my feet in the soft water.

Behind me, a phone dinged. “I’m gonna run over to Ian’s and pick up some weed,” Tyson said.

As he went out the back gate, Cody sat down next to me, lying back on the pavement with his feet in the pool.

All week I’d been going back and forth over the idea Tyson had planted about hacking to get the money for my mom’s treatments, fearful of losing her but equally fearful of crossing a line I couldn’t uncross.

But something had clicked inside me today when we were at the beach, and I now knew I’d do whatever it took to save her.

“Did Tyson tell you about my mom?” I asked, afraid to look at Cody.

He nodded. “I’m so sorry, Audrey.”

I bit my lip, holding back tears. “It’s not fair,” I said to the sky.

“No, it’s not,” he agreed. “Tyson told me about the treatment she needs, and how much it costs.” He let out a sigh. “I don’t know if I can help.”

I closed my eyes as my heart imploded.

“But I want to try,” he finished.

My head snapped toward him. “What do you mean?”

“I can get you into the system. The rest is up to you.”

“Seriously?” I asked, my heart beating erratically.

He nodded. “It’s big and disorganized with very little oversight, and honestly the company is doing enough shady shit that while I don’t like to break the law, I also don’t feel like it’s morally wrong. Alex needs the money more than their billionaire CEO does.”

I blinked at him, flooded with gratitude. “Thank you.”

“Poke around, come up with a workable plan, then we can go over it together.”

“Okay. I’ll be careful, I swear. If I think there’s any chance of getting caught, I won’t do it.”

“I trust your judgment.”

I grabbed his hand and squeezed. “Thank you, Cody.”

The gate on the far side of the patio swung open and Tyson entered, a look of annoyance on his face. I realized why a split second later, when Ian followed him through, letting the gate slam behind him.

“Oh shit,” Ian said as the metal clanged, turning back so quickly that he almost lost his balance.

He was barefoot in basketball shorts and a dirty sleeveless T-shirt, and as he drew closer, I could see that his pupils were as big as saucers.

“Whassup?” he said, reaching down to give Cody and me sloppy high-fives.

“Careful,” I said as he tottered near the edge of the pool.

“Audrey,” he crowed, collapsing to the concrete next to me and plunging his feet into the pool.

“It’s good to have you home.” His words were slurring, and when he threw an arm around my shoulders, his body odor was so pungent that it was all I could do not to recoil.

“Everybody else was dicks to me in high school, but you—you! You were always nice.”

“Thank you.” I patted his hand and removed his arm from my shoulders as I stood, going to the table to retrieve my wine as an excuse to escape the acrid scent of him.

Cody eyed Ian. “Ian, what’s going on?”

“Oh you know,” he said. “Ran outta beer. Tyson thought I shouldn’t drive to the store, so he was kind enough to offer me some of yours.”

Tyson approached him with a half-full case. “Here you go.”

“Thanks, man, I’ll pay you,” Ian said, fumbling in his pocket, producing some change, a receipt, and a baggie of white powder. “Oh shit, here, take this,” he said, tossing the bag of powder at Tyson. “It’s good coke.”

Tyson shrugged and pocketed it while Ian pulled out his other pocket, producing a wadded-up bunch of ones and a set of tiny keys. “Oh damn,” Ian said, dangling the keys from his finger. “Don’t want to lose these.”

None of us said anything, not wanting to give him reason to stay, but he wasn’t discouraged. “Got a lockbox,” he went on. “A security…Secure…”

“A safety deposit box?” I asked.

He pointed at me. “Where I can lock up my secrets safe.”

A receipt fluttered to the pavement, and I picked it up and handed it to him, noticing that it was a teller’s receipt from Bank of the South, but curious as I was, I stopped myself from checking the balance.

“I can walk you back,” Tyson said, helping Ian to his feet.

Ian reached for the case. “I’ll stay and have a beer.”

Tyson jerked it away and Ian again teetered dangerously at the edge of the pool. “We’re going to bed.”

“What, we’re not friends anymore?” Ian whined.

Tyson clenched his jaw, taking Ian by the elbow. “Let’s go.”

“You don’t wanna cross me,” Ian snapped, wrenching his arm from Tyson’s grasp to grab the box of beer. But he didn’t protest further asTyson ushered him roughly to the gate.

“Thank God,” Cody muttered as it clanged shut behind them.

But I felt no sense of relief as they disappeared into the night. Maybe I should have been worried about the felony I planned to commit to get the money for my mom’s treatment, but the bad feeling tugging at my gut had nothing to do with that.

Trouble breeds trouble, and as bad as I may have felt for him, Ian Kelley was trouble.