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Following him out of the room, I glance around at the unoccupied hall, and when we descend, the main floor seems empty too. I wonder where everyone is, but don’t ask. It’s none of my business. He holds the front door open for me, so apparently certain standards are still in effect.

He gets my door at the truck too. But once inside it himself, he puts music on to cover the silence and takes the most efficient path to the hill. The C Crue mansions are on a dilapidated block, which I guess is where C and Anvil grew up. During high school, Trick lived with a relative in the middle-class part of Coynston. My family lived at the bottom of the hill, so upper middle class. I suppose Trick could buy all the houses at the top of the hill now.

He pulls the truck around a corner. “I’m gonna speak to Monet first. Then you can take her inside to your parents.”

“Why do you want to talk to her?”

“Because there are some things she needs to hear from someone who knows what it’s like to get and stay clean.”

I blink. He’s always so flippant about quitting drugs that I assumed it, like everything else, was easy for him. This is the first time he’s hinted that it’s not.

“If you think it’ll help her, please do talk with her. We’d be grateful if you could get through to her.”

He nods.

The guys who get out of the waiting sedan are both tall. One looks young, maybe nineteen, and he’s lanky. The other looks Trick’s age and has his build. Trick says something to them, and they laugh and shake his hand. Trick makes a motion with his hand I can’t interpret and says something else with a smile. The men laugh again. His easy, irresistible charm is back in full force.

Then he gets in the sedan’s back seat with Monet. He speaks only a few moments before she hangs her head. My heart pinches in my chest. I realize she probably needs a serious talk, but it hurts me to see her hurting. I know from all the things she’s said that she can’t control herself sometimes.

After about fifteen minutes, he gets out and goes around the car and opens the passenger door on her side. When she gets out, I can see she’s sobbing. I reach for my door handle, but then he hugs her and she leans into him.

Over her head, he signals his men to go. They wave and follow orders. He’s on the street with Monet for another ten minutes, telling her things I’ll probably never understand. When he finally leads her to the truck I’m looking down and wiping my own tears away.

I pull myself together as quickly as I can, swallowing the lump in my throat.

He opens the back passenger door, and she climbs in. As pale as the moon and shaking like a leaf, she says hello to me.

Trick gets in and starts the car. He drives us around the block to my parents’ house. Getting out, he opens both my door and hers.

Monet’s under control until she looks at him, then the tears start streaming down her face again. “Don’t say anything to, um, anyone, okay?” Her eyes dart nervously to me and then back to him.

“Nope.”

“And I’ll be ready tomorrow morning. Thank you, Trick.” She hugs him and then rushes to the house.

“Ready tomorrow morning?”

“She needs to be in a recovery center.”

“She just got out of one,” I say, my heart sinking as I look at the front of the house. Monet’s already inside. “She’s used up all her days that insurance will cover, and my parents and I—it’s wiped them out and I don’t know if the credit card companies will extend me more—”

“No, Laurel. I’ve got it.”

Holding my head because once again I’m caught between a rock and a hard place, I feel sick. “I know she needs support, but I—I can’t have you doing this, especially not when I already put you in such a terrible position when I was trying to save her. This time, she’s got to pull herself together and do outpatient. We’ll help her. I’ll call every day. All right?”

“No.” His tone isn’t harsh, but it’s firm.

Tears stream down my face and drip from my jaw like rain off the edge of a window ledge. “It wouldn’t be enough?”

“No.”

I pull the ring off and hold it out to him. “Please. Return this and use the money to help her. I don’t need such an expensive ring. I never did. And I can’t keep this and let you pay for her treatment too.”

Trick looks at the ring for a moment, and then takes it and puts it in his pocket.

My heart aches even harder at its disappearance and the fact that he doesn’t say a word, doesn’t try to argue or convince me to keep it.

“Will you come in?”