by Danah Logan
"Did you hear what I just said?" Margot’s sharp tone snaps me out of my thoughts.
"I’m sorry, what?"
She huffs and pushes her chair back. Both hands on the table, she leans over. "What is going on with you? I’ve basically been talking to myself for the last forty-five minutes. You could at least pretend to care about Celeste's birthday."
But I don't.
At that precise moment, my phone vibrates in my pocket, and I fumble to get it out as fast as possible.
She is back in the office.
I push my chair back and walk out without a second glance.
"NATE!" Margot yells after me, exasperated.
This will most likely bite me in the ass very soon.
"Call Lilly," I bark out as soon as the door of my office closes behind me.
The monitor on my desk comes to life, and before I can sit down, my sister fills the screen. Her face is still red from the run, and I immediately notice the puffy eyes.
I’m going to kill this boy—figuratively speaking, of course.
I have tunnel vision, and the urge to throw another monitor across the room overcomes me, but instead, I try to steady my voice. "Little sis. Talk to me."
The dam immediately breaks, and I curse under my breath. All the different ways how I can make Rhys’s life hell—or worse than it already is—assault my brain at lightning speed.
"What happened?" I try to control my accelerated breathing.
Between hiccupping sobs, I understand something along the lines of, "Rhys called," "Heather," and "my fault." The rest is drowned out by her crying. While Lilly is still trying to get herself under control, I text George.
WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED?
His response is immediate: I don’t know. She was in the gym when he called, and he won’t answer my texts or calls.
That little shit. He's lucky I'm stuck here for another thirty-six hours, or I would go to Virginia myself.
Since Lilly is in my office and we are still on the phone-slash-video call, I can't pull up the historical feed of the gym—yet.
Another message from George lights up my phone: Do you want me to check on her?
I see him pacing the entire length of the kitchen on one of the little rectangles.
Not yet. Still have her on the screen.
I focus back on my sister who is slowly starting to calm down.
"Baby sis?" I try again.
Her eyes find mine, and she whispers, "This is all my fault."
My eyebrows draw together. "What is?"
Lilly takes a deep breath. "Rhys called earlier." I gathered that, but I swallow my sarcastic remark and let her get it out at her own pace. "We didn't talk long. I asked why he hasn't called." The moisture wells up again, but this time she stays in control. "He said because he doesn't want to hear anything else he has to lie about."
I nod. "I see. What else did he say?" I hope he at least gave her some assurances.
"He said Mom came by earlier to bring him his phone." Mom, not Heather. She continues, "He said she’s lost weight, she's not sleeping, and Natty keeps asking when she can come home. He’s been avoiding Dad’s attempts to talk to him. He can’t face anyone, knowing what he does."
We're quiet for some time, and an idea starts forming. "What if we let them?"
Confusion clouds her features. "Huh?"
"Let them know," I clarify.
My sister’s eyes widen. "How?"
I press my lips together. I don't like it, and, in the end, it will be her choice, but the option is there. "Give me a minute. I want George to be in the room with you."
I shoot a message to the man pacing a hole into my kitchen floor to get his ass to the NCC. When he sends me a question mark back, I have to chuckle. Lilly's nickname has already taken root in my brain.
The office, I reply.
Not a minute later, I see the door in the background opening, and our head of security takes the seat next to my sister. He is her bodyguard now as he is mine.
She props up her phone against one of the monitors on the desk, and two sets of eyes look back at me. One with hope, the other with wariness. George suspects that whatever I'm going to say will be a "security risk."
I lay out my plan, and Lilly immediately shouts, "I'll do it," while George barks, "Absolutely not!"
Yup, I knew that would go over well.
Lilly turns to the man next to her. "Why not? They need to know!"
"Miss Lilly. Please think about it. It will cause more questions. Especially when you return and all of a sudden have no recollection. You need to lie to everyone to protect your brother’s identity." Quietly, he amends, "If that is what you still want."
My sister looks appalled, and I have to chuckle.
"Of course I do. He is my brother!"
Hearing her say that makes my heart beat faster. I’m her brother.
George tries to reason with her again. "We don’t know what chain reaction this will set off. It could cause more problems than it solves. The authorities won’t believe you."
"I can do it! They need to know," she says with such conviction that I almost believe her. But to be honest, I am terrified of the outcome. I won't be able to protect her, and even if I send George with her, he won't be able to interfere. All he can do is stand by in the shadows.
The man that has protected me for the past ten years turns to me. "I don’t like this, Nate. You are both risking too much. If this goes sideways, you may have to take responsibility sooner than either of you wants."
I know he is right, but there is only one answer. "Lilly comes first."
"Very well. I'll make the necessary arrangements and will contact you when we're ready."
Chapter Twenty-Six
I didn’t think my day could get any worse.
After Mom’s visit to bring me my phone—per Dad’s order—and Wes recounting the newest rumors about Lilly when he got home from school, the last thing I expected was to receive a call from him. Thank fuck my best friend was in the bathroom, taking a shower, when the phone in the front pocket of my hoodie started vibrating.
It was the same hoodie that hasn’t fit me since freshman year. I probably looked like Wes’s dad in his high school yearbook—he swore up and down that crop tops on men used to be in, but whatever. I couldn't have cared less at that point. When Mom called Wes’s cell at seven a.m. to inform me she’d be coming by, I asked her to bring the sweatshirt with her. She didn’t question why, and I’m beginning to suspect she knows.
Wes and Den have been back to school for the last few days, and from what they've been telling me, it's not pretty. Wes even skips practice because of the shit our teammates spewed out the first day. Wes got into a massive blowout with Jager and had to be pulled apart by Coach and several of the guys. He hasn't been back since.
Jager was lucky it was Wes and not me.
I let the phone ring until I was certain Wes wouldn’t suddenly come out. Unfortunately, that involved sneaking in and making sure he was indeed in the shower. What I witnessed can never be unseen but will make for excellent blackmailing material. Humming Carrie Underwood’s "Blown Away," my best friend was rubbing one out—God, I wish I had taken a video.
Door securely closed, I answered the phone and had one of the most bizarre conversations of my life. Getting patronized by Lilly’s kidnapper-slash-psychotic-brother was the last thing I'd expected. But his words had hit home.
"Of course nothing is fine. I fucked up. You fucked up. But she still forgave both of us."
The words kept reverberating through my mind for several hours. Wes no longer questions my behavior. I’ve walked out on him multiple times to message George when I was about to lose it. He is the only person I don’t have to pretend with, one way or another.
How ironic is that?
So, when I left my roommate this time, he didn’t even look up. I wanted to be as far away as possible from potential listeners when I made the call. I ventured down to the family room’s
adjacent bathroom and turned on all the water sources at my disposal. This time, I also came prepared with headphones.
I typed the number to Lilly’s cell phone several times before I could get myself to press the green button. It rang three times before I heard the one voice I’d missed and dreaded hearing so much the last few days come through the earpiece.
"Rhys?"
We were both quiet after that. She knew it was me but didn't seem to know what to say. Or she was giving me time until I was ready. I didn't know.
"Hey," I finally whispered after several minutes of silence.
"Hey." The relief in her tone was palpable.
The knots in my stomach started loosening. If I could just hold her right now…the need to feel her was consuming me.
"I’m sorry I haven’t called." The words had been on my mind for days, yet I couldn’t bring myself to call her until he put me in my place.
She sniffled but didn't say anything, and all I heard was her slowly inhaling and exhaling. I counted to five for each; she was trying to gain control. The loosened knot tightened back up. I'd been selfish; I'd distanced myself from everyone, including Lilly, so that I wouldn't have to lie. I didn't want to pretend I was fine, having to reassure her. But hearing her like this…
Before I could say anything to explain myself, she whispered, "Why haven’t you called?"
The tightness from my stomach spread to my chest. As much as I didn't want to admit it, I told her the truth. "I didn't want to hear anything else I have to lie about."
"Oh," she breathed.
I could only imagine what admitting this did to her. I tried to lighten the mood and changed the topic. "What have you been up to the last few days?"
When she was quiet again, unease spread through me, and I probed. "Babe?"
"I, um…Nate has been teaching me some computer stuff."
What the—?
It didn’t take a genius to read between the lines. Her psycho of a brother had been teaching her to hack! To become a criminal—like him.
Something inside of me snapped, and before I could stop myself, the words just flew out. "So, while I had to face my mother who, by the way, looks like she’s lost twenty pounds, listen to her tell me how all Dad does is try to find you, and my little sister is not allowed to come home, your psychotic child-kidnapping brother is teaching you how to hack? You’ve got to be FUCKING KIDDING ME!" My tone rose with every word until I was shouting. Panting, I clutched the phone in my hand so tightly that it was a miracle that it was still fully intact.
Lilly’s sobs came through the phone. "I’m so sorry, Rhys. Please, you have to believe me. I’m sorry. Please. I love you."
I love you, too. More than anything. That’s why this is so hard.
But once again, instead of saying the right thing—the one thing that would help both of us and most likely save our relationship—I couldn’t get the words out.
All of a sudden, a banging at the door startled me.
"Dude! What the hell are you doing in there?"
Wes! Shit!
I hung up in a panic and shoved the phone back into the hoodie.
Not only did I yell at the love of my life, but now I also hung up on her after she told me she loved me.
FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!!!
Face flushed, I swung the bathroom door open. "WHAT?"
The urge to sucker punch my best friend was so strong I tightened my grip on the door and shoved the other hand into the pocket of my sweats, hiding my balled fist.
Wes looked me up and down, and his face contorted into what probably was meant to be a knowing grin.
"Ahhh, I get it, man. You needed some ‘alone time.’" He made air quotes around "alone time."
He’s got to be fucking kidding me.
"Get what?" I ground out between clenched teeth, still gripping the doorframe.
His face fell a bit, and he stammered, "Uh, you know…uh."
Too far gone, I blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "Oh, you mean whacking it while singing a fucking country song? No, I didn't need alone time for that."
Wes’s face turned a shade of burgundy. I finally stopped my attempt to permanently imprint my hand into Mr. and Mrs. Sheats's family bathroom door and pushed past my best friend.
Halfway across the room, I turned and walked backward. "And by the way, I would've chosen Taylor Swift's 'Shake it Off.'"
Wes’s mouth fell open, and as I was almost out the door, I heard him burst out laughing, which put a small grin on my face as well.
Until I remembered what he interrupted.
I needed to fix this.
I didn’t get to fix it. I couldn’t find any alone time to contact Lilly or George. After the call, I felt the phone vibrate several times inside my hoodie, but I couldn’t check who it was. Wes had been glued to my side since the moment I got back to his room, and an hour later, Denielle joined us. If I had disappeared again for more than taking a piss, he would've started asking questions, especially after blowing up in his face.
I did get to check some of the texts during my 1.5 minute bathroom break, but I hadn’t even read half of George's messages when Wes hollered, "If you are not whacking it, what’s taking so long?"
Motherfu—
The only thing that kept me semi-distracted was Denielle’s odd behavior. She wasn’t her usual self—no snarky remarks about my second-skin-looking crop top, as I would've expected. She plopped herself next to me on the couch while Wes and I engaged in another video game. The entire time, she didn’t say a word.
Eventually, Wes coaxed it out of her in his usual sledgehammer, charming way. "Why are you acting so fucking weird, D? There were no new rumors at school today, so what's crawled up your hot ass?"
As it turned out, Denielle and Charlie got into a fight, which explains a lot; they never fight. They don't even argue; Charlie is too much of a pussy to ever stand up to his strong-willed girlfriend. Den asked him if he would visit for the weekend. With everything going on, Wes and I were always together, and she wanted him home. Her admission stunned and humbled me at the same time. Denielle never lets her guard down, and her telling us that meant she trusted us. Anyway, Charlie made some excuse about a party he had already RSVP'd to and couldn't get out of. Even to me, that sounded like utter bull, but seeing Den's face, I bit my tongue.
We played until three in the morning, and by the time Wes turned the TV off, Denielle was fast asleep on Wes’s bed. Wes looked at me questioningly, and I shrugged, so he simply scooted in beside her, and I took my place on the couch.
I reread George’s texts several times.
Rhys, what happened?
Rhys, I know you contacted Miss Lilly. What happened? She is upset.
Rhys, if you have any sense of self-preservation, you will answer me. I like you, boy, but I work for Nate. When Nate sees the state his sister is currently in, I cannot guarantee your safety.
His last text came almost two hours ago, and despite being suffocated under my covers to hide the glow of the phone, a shudder runs down my spine. I don’t doubt the damage this man could do to me. His loyalty is to Nate and Lilly first.
I waited until almost four before sending a message to Lilly.
I got cut off earlier. Wes came in. I didn't mean to hang up. I love you.
I wait several minutes, and when she doesn't respond, I text George.
I texted Lilly. She's not responding. Wes caught me on the phone earlier, and I haven't been alone since. Is she ok?
The bubble pops up almost immediately, and I sigh in relief…until I read the message.
Things have been set in motion, despite my advice against it.
What the fuck does that mean?
What things???
I wait, but my BFF ghosts me. I’m as confused as I am worried. Sleep doesn’t come that night.
It's Saturday—again, and we have nowhere else to be. The only way I know this is because my friends don't have school. I stopped actively keeping track o
f the day of the week when I found Lilly’s Jeep flipped on the side of the road. Mr. and Mrs. Sheats left earlier, and who knows where in the world Denielle's parents are.
The three of us sit in the kitchen, eating a late breakfast. And by eating, I mean Wes is using his fork like a conveyor belt. He probably should've made the entire carton of eggs, instead of only six. Denielle nibbles on some plain whole-grain toast, and I'm sipping black coffee. My barely existent appetite had officially said goodbye at four a.m. last night.
As if on command, all our phones—my personal one, not the phone I got from George that is stashed in my pocket—start vibrating on the table. I ignore mine since no one besides my parents have contacted me in over a week. Wes and Denielle both pick up their phones. Denielle's eyes turn to saucers, and my best friend spits an orange mass across the table.
Neither of them says anything and just stare at their screens. I tap my phone and nearly choke on the sip of coffee that I held in my mouth. There, in all caps, is the last name I expected to see on my phone: LILLY.
When I glance back up, two sets of eyes are on me, and Wes mumbles, still with some remaining food in his mouth, "Uh, dude?"
Both hold their phones out to me and show the exact same.
I'm at a loss. What is this? Without a word, I open the message.
"It’s a video," I tell my friends.
Almost synchronized, they click on their messages.
"Same."
"I got one, too."
After a moment of silence, I say, "Let’s do this together."
Den and Wes move their chairs closer to look at my screen. My heart rate is out of control, and my hands shake so hard that I can barely press play. I place the device on the table since there is no way my hands can hold it steady enough to watch. Lilly fills the screen, and I hold my breath. I can't look away from her beautiful face; the cut on her forehead is almost healed. She sits cross-legged on the leather couch in Nate’s office, the bare wall behind her gives no indication where she could be if I hadn’t spent hours talking to her in the same spot.