Chapter Six #3
But this is Trev. This is what my brother likes to wear. If I pulled that at his age, Everett would’ve told me to change immediately and reminded me of who I was supposed to be in this town. I’m not doing that to my brother.
He’s more used to being himself. His role as a kid was to remain in the shadows and use sleight of hand. He wasn’t trained in face-to-face manipulation, even if he wanted to be right beside me.
“What’s up, losers?” Trevor greets.
Oliver bows forward, elbows on the counter, pear in hand. “You’re very confident for someone who slaughtered a feeble old woman.”
“She wasn’t feeble. She was the mark.”
Jesus.
Nova shoots me a hard look, like Get your brother in check. Trev has felt like my responsibility, my kid, for I don’t know how long. He’s also proof that I’m not equipped to be raising another fucking human being.
“Remember Jake?” I question. “Claudia’s son? He’s right here, shithead.”
“Hi, Jake. Sorry,” he deadpans, sounding not remorseful at all. Wonderful.
“It’s fine,” Jake mutters, more attentive toward Hailey, who flips through the envelopes.
Oliver straightens up. And that’s how I know he cares that Jake is interested in my sister. Body language. I would do stupid things to bury my head back into scalding desert sand if I could. I hate being this perceptive over shit regarding my sister’s sex life. I want nothing to do with it.
“Is that a hickey?” Phoebe asks.
Yeah, Trevor has four massive red welts on his neck. And now I’m thrust into my brother’s sex life. Perfect.
He’s been dating Sidney Burke, a rich college student who’s lived in this Connecticut town her entire life. She’s using him to get back at her rich dad, and since she’s the writer behind Victoria’s most popular gossip column, Trevor has been dating her to influence what hits the press.
He’d been at the boathouse.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” I point at him, cigarette scissored between two fingers. “You did not bring your girlfriend to the boathouse.” He specifically told us he wouldn’t.
“For less than seventy minutes.”
“So an hour,” I state. “For fuck’s sake, Trevor.”
“We keep fakes in there,” Nova reminds him.
“Yeah, stashed away.” He stares into me, thinking I’ll understand. I can’t. He did another thing I said not to do.
“And guns,” I add.
“Like that one? Just lying out in the open?” Trevor motions to the Glock beside Nova. Which causes Nova to holster the gun at his waist.
Phoebe mutters, “I’m not going to prison because of Sidney fucking Burke.”
Trevor kicks off his loafers angrily. “She can be trusted.”
“No,” almost all of us say together.
Jake wavers. He’s on the fence because Sidney Burke was his sister’s best friend. He’s known her since she was in diapers. Like I feel responsible for my little brother, I know Jake feels similarly toward Sidney.
“She could’ve been snooping,” Phoebe combats. “She’s an investigative journalist.”
Hailey sifts through the letters. “Is that what we’re calling a gossip columnist now?”
“Trust me then,” Trevor says to everyone.
Oliver shares a small look with Nova. They empathize with Trevor wanting to be trusted, but he’s also the one most likely to make a mistake at this point. He’s already made a massive one. So, unsurprisingly, we’re all more keyed on him.
“Sidney isn’t trying to play any of us,” Trevor professes. “All she cares about is pissing off her dad. Hence…” He yanks his collar to expose the trail of hickies down his chest. “She wanted him to see it.”
Phoebe snorts. “Is she part blowfish?”
“Like you’ve never had a hickey before, PG,” Trevor says. “Your whole body has been a Twister mat.”
What the fuck? “Trevor,” I grit out.
“She started it.” He gestures to Phoebe.
Everyone waits for her scathing comeback, but she’s abnormally quiet.
Her limbs go slack as she releases her grip on my forearm.
Her hands dangle at her sides, and I crane my neck to the left, trying to inspect her face, her eyes, while she’s leaning up against me.
My muscles are on fire.
“PG?” Trevor says uncertainly. “Phoebe.” Rare remorse flickers in his gray eyes. He looks over at me with confusion and an apology.
Because Phoebe is staring off at the seafoam cupboards. Unblinking, dazed, haunted.
Her brothers notice. Oliver starts to round the bar counter, but he stops as Phoebe mutters out a soft “Not anymore.” Louder, she says, “I’m not going to be that girl anymore. I don’t want to be.”
Hailey’s lips tic in a tiny smile.
I exhale a long breath through my nose.
Her focus clears. “You want my role, Trevor. It’s all yours.”
“Let’s not go that fucking far,” I caution my brother, but as Phoebe sinks back against me, I wrap my arms around her like a vise. She lifts her chin to look up at me, her gratitude pooling into warm affection. It melts the embers of aggravated heat she constantly carries in her eyes.
We’ve spent our childhood and adolescence working together. Being paired on jobs. We’ve pretended to be everything anyone could ever be to someone. It might seem like we’re toxic fumes. Like we can’t possibly make us work out, but all we’ve ever done is pull each other through the fires we’ve set.
So we’re going to get through this.
Whatever’s going on with her.
Whatever happens with Trent.
Whatever happens with her dad—the man who killed my family.
We’re getting through it.
There is no end without us together. I can’t even remember a beginning without Phoebe Graves.