Done Deal (Arcadia High Anarchists Book 5)

by Max Henry

  “I don’t know,” I say tersely. “I just know it is.”

  “You’re love-blind.” He folds his arms, defiant.

  I stare him down for a beat before Beau eases the tension.

  “All good if you drop me home, man?”

  “I can do it,” Ed offers. “You’re on my way anyway.”

  “You can take me too,” Johnson orders.

  I frown, unsure where exactly he stands on this issue. He seems to balance on the fence, swaying with the breeze. I just want the guy to pick a side; if it’s ours or not.

  At least then I know where I stand with him.

  “We’ll meet up again later, yeah?” The trio nod as I rise from my seat. “I’ll go settle the bill.”

  ***

  Johnson’s ignorance leaves a fine blanket of frustration over my skin, itching beneath the restriction of my checked shirt when I pull up at Lacey’s—alone. I want to believe he’s not using the opportunity being with Ed and Beau presents to turn them against me, but if there’s something I’ve learned about my best friend these past weeks, it’s that I don’t know him all that well anymore.

  No sign of life flutters from behind the half-pulled blinds at Lacey’s house, yet Colt’s vehicle is still parked where it was when I left this morning. Her old man’s work ute remains in the driveway also.

  I’ll have the Williams men to get past if I want to see my girl.

  I’ve faced worse.

  Picking manners over need, I rap my knuckles against the door and wait, allowing the midday sun to heat my back. The lock snicks, and then the impassive stare of her prestigious brother greets me.

  The guy really was cut out for aristocracy, all perfectly pale skin and fair hair. He wouldn’t last a week working on the farm with the likes of me.

  “What do you want?” he drawls, dragging his gaze the length of me.

  “To ask if you’ve heard the work of our good Lord,” I sass. “What the fuck do you think I want?”

  He appears to fight a smile, choosing instead to step into the doorway and jab a firm finger into my chest. “You touch my sister anywhere other than appropriate for when in civilised company, and I’ll snap your fucking neck.”

  “Colt!”

  He jerks back, tugged out of the way by his smaller, much slighter sibling.

  My girl.

  “Hey, baby.” I broaden the smile she already incites; well aware it’ll further rile up her brother.

  “Come in.” Her hand captures mine and guides me past Colt. “We’re about to have lunch. Did you eat?”

  “I’m good for now.” I flash her brother a winning smile behind her back. “Better now that I’m here with you.”

  He glares, head tilted to one side as his gaze narrows in warning.

  My bravado shrinks the second I see Lacey’s dad waiting on us in the living room. Hands folded behind his back, he stands with his feet wide, and a deep scowl etched in his brow.

  “Mr Williams.”

  “Tuck.” His gaze drops to where I hold his daughter’s hand.

  I don’t let go.

  “We need to talk.”

  Colt chuckles behind my shoulder, moving toward the free armchair. Draping his limbs over the sides, he reclines to watch the show of brawn between father and daughter’s suitor.

  I steel my gaze and meet James Williams’ scrutiny head-on.

  “Lacey, could you and Colt give us a moment?”

  Her hand flexes before gently slipping free at Colt’s insistence. Her apologetic eyes find mine, and I give her a gentle smile to let her know I’m okay.

  Her dad has nothing on mine. Unless he plans on spending the next ten years putting me through emotional hell by alienating me and dominating my every move, then I’m sure I can handle a little father-of-the-girl pep talk.

  James watches his children as they leave, waiting until the click of the door signals they’re in another room and firmly out of earshot. One hand extended to his left, he gestures to the chair Colt vacated. “Sit.”

  “I’d rather stand, Sir.”

  A sigh blasts past his lips. “For Pete’s sake, don’t call me Sir. We’re not in the damn army.”

  I school my smirk.

  “You’re serious about my daughter.”

  I nod. No deliberation needed.

  “You’re aware of the trouble she’s in?”

  “With the kids at Arcadia?” We spoke about this last night.

  His frown returns. “With the subscription site, Lacey ran.”

  Wait. “What?” I take the fucking chair before my legs give out. “She did that?” I whisper as I grimace my way through the reason for this.

  “Her and her once best friend, Willow.” James sighs, moving to the window. I don’t think he gives a shit about the view though. “She could face serious charges if it gets out who’s responsible,” he says, hushed, as though careful Lacey won’t overhear.

  No wonder he moved closer to me.

  “They think it was Colt,” I share. “From what I’ve seen, they’re out for his blood.”

  “He was the one who made the contents public, more or less.” James drags in a deep breath before speaking again. “I called an acquaintance and discussed the ramifications from them coming clean. We need to bury this.”

  “You don’t want anyone to find out about it?” I ask, clarifying what I just heard.

  Lacey’s dad turns to fix his gaze to mine. “Can I count on you to keep what you know quiet?”

  “Of course.” Elbows to my knees, I straighten my back. “I can keep her name out of it, but the suspicion is already there.”

  “Don’t worry about that. Suspicion isn’t enough to take it to court.”

  “What about the hard evidence, then?” I retrieve my phone. “How do you remove that?”

  He turns away, shielding his expression from me. “I know people who might be able to help.”

  What the fuck have I stepped into here? I joked with Lacey that these people are human just like me, and that movie-style gangster connections and shit aren’t real. But as I stare at her old man and tumble over what he alluded to, I’ve got to wonder.

  What the ever-loving fuck does money buy you?

  Where the hell would you begin to look to find people like that?

  Our worlds suddenly vaulted a whole extra eon apart. Lacey might not understand rural life as I do, but that ignorance has got nothing when it comes to how consequential misunderstanding her lifestyle could be.

  “Is that all?” I ask carefully, unsure if he’s done with me or ruminating over something darker still.

  “Have you slept with her?”

  Jesus—give a guy a head’s up. “Pardon?” I choke out.

  “My daughter,” James presses. “Have you two slept together?”

  “Shouldn’t you have this conversation with her?” The ability to shrink out of view would be pretty epic about now.

  “I’m asking you.” Dark eyes bore into mine.

  What the fuck am I supposed to say? The truth, I guess. “No.”

  “You want to, though?”

  Fuck my life—it just gets worse. “What do you want me to say, Sir?”

  “That you’ll consider her before you let your hormones take over.”

  Floor, swallow me whole. “You think I wouldn’t?” I let the rage at his judgement of me overshadow the shame at what the fuck we discuss.

  “I hope you wouldn’t, but I don’t know you well enough to judge your character accurately.”

  I stand, matching his defiant stance. “Do you trust your daughter’s judgement?”

  “Implicitly.”

  “Then trust that she wouldn’t waste her time on a guy who didn’t have her best intentions at heart.”

  The silence is stifling. Neither he nor I look away. Doing so would show submission.

  “Good man,” James bursts out, clapping a hand to my shoulder. “She’s no doubt pressed against the door waiting for you,” he teases. “Go put her ou
t of her misery.”

  “Yes, Sir.” I take a step toward the hallway.

  “Door open, Tuck,” he calls after me.

  “I wouldn’t expect it any other way.”

  LACEY

  “Stop fidgeting,” I scold Colt. “I can’t hear a thing.”

  “I don’t know why you bother.” He frowns at the wardrobe; empty save for a single jacket hooked on a hanger. “You honestly believe Dad would have pulled Tuck aside to give him the talk when you’re in the same house?”

  “If it’s not that, then what?” I snap, not entirely interested in the answer as I press my ear to the door again.

  The low murmur of voices carries down the hallway, the cadence clear, but not the words. Whatever they discuss, the two of them manage to keep it civilised. I’m grateful for that, at least.

  “What do you think Greer’s mum did to her when she got home?”

  I peel away from the timber barrier at the sadness in Colt’s tone. “I’m not sure. She said she’d sneak out and come back this afternoon.”

  “She did?” His head snaps up, fingers lingering on the sleeve of the jacket. “When?”

  “Before she left this morning.” I frown at the disarray of belongings he brought with him. “Why don’t you just message her?” It’s as though he left Mum’s with nothing other than what was in the back of his car at the time.

  “I don’t want to get Greer in more trouble if they confiscated her phone.”

  I snort. “I can’t imagine her mother doing that. Not when she needs Greer to stay in contact with the others to maintain her position in that pretentious world.”

  “That was our pretentious world not so long ago,” Colt gently reminds me. His hands wind before him, focus squarely on the motion. “I’ve never felt this strongly about a girl before, you know?”

  “Truly?” Crossing the room, I settle on the bed behind him, resting my weight on one hip. “I thought you and Willow were close.”

  “We were, but not in the same way. I care a lot about Willow, but the feeling is closer to how I care about you than what I feel with Greer.”

  “Do you love her?”

  He throws his head back, scoffing at my question. “Slow down, sis.”

  “It was merely a question.”

  His crystal gaze holds mine. He’s not sure.

  “Whatever her mother throws her way, Greer can hold her own.” I rest my hand on his forearm. “She’s a tough cookie.”

  “That doesn’t lessen my guilt at being the cause of her trouble.” He sighs heavily out his nose, moving out of my reach. “I’m selfish, pursuing Greer. I know I am. But it doesn’t stop me.” Colt flicks his tormented gaze toward me. “Is that bad?”

  “I don’t think so.” I shrug one shoulder, vaguely aware that the hum of voices from outside the room has silenced. “I think it shows passion.”

  “Passion.” He smirks. “How refined of you.”

  I lift an eyebrow. “What would you call it?”

  “The insatiable desire to fuck her.”

  A knock at the door has me jolting off the bed. “Polite people call that passion, my dear brother.” I can’t reach the handle fast enough.

  Tuck stands on the other side, one arm over his head where he grips the doorframe. He looks positively hungry—and not for the lunch he refused.

  “You’re alive,” I jest.

  “Did you expect anything else?” His eyes sparkle with mirth. “I’m not interrupting?”

  With a giggle, I jerk him into the room by the front of his shirt, my fingertips abuzz as they brush his hard chest. “Not at all.” I swiftly shut the door and then grin at my less than impressed brother. “We were just discussing Colt’s infatuation with—”

  “Lacey,” he growls in warning.

  Tuck opens the door again and then strolls into the middle of the room, smiling at Colt. “Shy?”

  “I don’t need my private affairs broadcast with the whole town,” he snaps back.

  “Oh, stop it.” I bounce across to the bed and leap atop, folding my legs beneath me. “What did Dad say to you?” I whisper, patting the bed before me to indicate Tuck should come closer.

  He doesn’t disappoint. “He wanted to know if we’d had sex yet.”

  “He what?” I cry out, allowing Tuck to pull me against him, where he lies on one side.

  Colt’s laugh reverberates around the room as he returns to sorting the few belongings that he brought with him.

  “You’re not serious.” I twist my head to read Tuck’s expression.

  Bright eyes search mine. “Deadly.”

  “What did you say?” My question erupts high-pitched and needy.

  “I told him the truth.”

  Colt stops moving, carefully paying attention to what comes next.

  I say nothing, lifting my head to smile sweetly at my brother. Let the nosey bastard stew.

  We all hesitate, listening as Dad answers a phone call and quickly takes it outside.

  “He’s worried about you,” Tuck states quietly once the front door has shut, sucking the light mood from the room. “Both of you.”

  Colt pretends his old Toga Virilis boots are the most fascinating thing since sliced bread.

  “We know,” I offer gently, reaching out to run my fingertips through the short, sandy blond hair on the side of Tuck’s head. “We’re going to fix this, though.”

  “You’ll try,” he corrects me. “I don’t think either of you fully comprehends what you’ve started.”

  “I do.” Colt shoves the last of his mismatched clothes roughly into the worn set of drawers and then turns to face us. “I’m not naïve, Tuck. I probably know better than you do how this world works.”

  “Bold assumption.” The tension radiates from Tuck, vibrating through me where my lower back meets his stomach. “If you know the gravity of the stunt you pulled, why do it?”

  Colt glances at me before shifting his attention back to Tuck. “To protect what I love.”

  “There were other ways,” I argue. “Why drag up the Patreon site?” I ask him the question that’s burned since this whole fiasco started.

  “It was the only thing left that could hurt them,” he explains. “I wanted them to know that their gilded high society can’t protect them forever.”

  “And the outcome?” Tuck asks. “What did you hope would happen?”

  “You honestly didn’t think they’d lie down quietly, did you?” I beg Colt for it not to be true.

  He shrugs, seating himself on the far end of the mattress, feet on the floor. “I held a slim hope it might.”

  “And your contingency?” I ask. “You always account for every outcome. What did you plan this time?”

  The resignation in his gaze chills me. “Nothing. I figured I’d give what’s left of me and hope it was enough.”

  I can’t speak. The sheer loathing required for my brother to feel his future was worth nothing compared to mine leaves an aching need to weep for him. Why does he think so lowly of himself? Have I never told him otherwise? Shown how much I revere my beautiful brother?

  “Whatever happens tonight, you’ve got a home here,” Tuck offers.

  Colt scoffs, rising to kick his boots across the floor toward the wardrobe. “I feel so much better,” he snips.

  “Don’t be like that,” I beg. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  “You say that now.” He laughs bitterly.

  My legs carry me across the room before I fully comprehend what I intend to do. He doesn’t see it coming and, truth be told, I didn’t think I’d hit him that hard. My palm smacks the back of his head, sending Colt staggering forward.

  “What the fuck, Lacey?”

  “You idiot,” I holler, attempting to smack him again. “How dare you?”

  “How dare I what?” he counters, securing my flailing arms before me.

  “Treat yourself like this.” I shove hard against him, then jerking free of his hold. “You are worth the goddamn world to me,�
� I say, a sob breaking on the last word. “And you throw your life away as though it means nothing.”

  “Because it doesn’t,” he roars.

  I register Tuck behind me before the weight of his hand settles on my shoulder. “Take a breath, babe.”

  “I have double-crossed, shat on, and betrayed everyone I know,” Colt continues. “What’s left to redeem, sis? Huh? Where do I fucking begin to make amends, if even I could?”

  “Here,” I shout. “With me! With Dad.”

  He looks away, sighing.

  “Oh, what?” I chastise. “We aren’t good enough for you now?”

  “I didn’t say that,” he whispers.

  Tuck takes a step back, quietly observing now that we seem to have put out the immediate fire.

  “Then, why the dismissal?” I press. “Why blow me off when I say that you have a future here with us?”

  “Because I don’t fit in,” Colt whines, flexing his fists. “You’ve adapted, Lacey. Beautifully. But I’ll always be the spoilt rich kid. I don’t know how to be anything else.”

  “So, learn.” I move closer, forcing him to look at me. “Do you think it was easy for me to adjust? Do you think that the arseholes at Arcadia gave me a free ride? Were you that blind to what happened outside of yourself?”

  “No,” he shouts before softening his tone. “No. I know it was hard. But you did it,” he appraises. “Look at you.” Colt’s hands find my shoulders so he can hold me before him. “You’re the most alive I’ve seen you. Ever.”

  And he’s the most depressed. Where did my dusty blond prince go? Where is the cocky, self-assured brother who taught me how to hold my head high because, damn it all, we’re Williams kids, and our name means as much as any other?

  Where is my failsafe? My hero? The guy I always knew to be there for me.

  He chooses my silence as a stalemate in our argument and leaves the room in slow and measured steps. Perhaps that’s the problem? I always leant on Colt, not thinking what it did to his character. I drained him of his strength without ever giving back.

  My throat closes, the air thick around me as I slowly turn to find Tuck’s concerned stare locked attentively on me.

  “Did I break him?” I ask in uneven tones. “Have I done this to him?”

  I expect consolation; some meaningless affirmation that my darling self couldn’t be at fault.