Chapter Thirty-Three #2
“Because it’d be an uphill battle, for one. Also, Trent probably knows Oliver is here with me,” I explain, “and not nurturing his broken ego like a loyal best friend would.”
“I suggested the beach day,” Hailey says more to her book. “I wanted Oliver to be seen out with us. I don’t think he’s right to be Trent’s best friend. He goes too far.”
She’s trying to protect Oliver from going the extra mile to finish the job. The same way she protected Phoebe. It’s nothing our parents ever did. Nothing they tried to do. They pushed and pushed and pushed us past our limits. Stretched the boundaries and barriers until there were none.
Because “you have to do whatever it takes,” because “you could be caught if you don’t,” because “don’t you want to live lavishly?,” because “we’re a family.”
I’m proud of my sister for not following in Addison’s footsteps when it’s all she’s been conditioned to do.
“So you’re…benching him?” Jake asks Hailey.
“No,” she says. “You can’t take Oliver off the board. He’s like two bishops and two rooks at once. Four pieces.”
Jake glances at me. “What does that make you?”
I open my mouth, but Hailey says, “The queen.”
I flash Jake a tight smile before taking a rough swig of beer.
Jake sighs. “So, the queen is off the board?”
“Yep.” I nod. Sun beats down on our bare glistening chests, and I rub sweat off my jaw, hating the heat.
He wipes condensation from his beer on his navy-blue swim trunks. “How far would Oliver go?” He’s still considering him as a viable solution out of this giant fucking pickle. “He won’t do drugs around Hailey.”
“He’ll hurt himself.” Hailey sounds panicked. “No.” She shuts her book.
Oliver has punched himself in the face before to escape a jam. So her fears aren’t unwarranted.
I don’t bring up how there’s also the problem of Trent being obsessed with the idea of Hailey having some dumb crush on Oliver. It’s been ridiculous how often I’ve had to actively get Trent to stop suggesting the idea of watching Oliver fuck Hailey.
Yes, I have had to shoot that idea down. Five times.
Five.
It’s not a miracle he never asked Hailey, “Would you fuck Oliver in front of me?” It was me working my ass off getting him to quit thinking with his cock every fifteen minutes.
Hailey doesn’t know this. No one does because not everything needs to be aired when it’s understood what Trent is capable of. But this is exactly why I’m more nervous that I’m not a devil breathing down his fucking neck anymore.
Jake shakes condensation off his fingers. “Then give him parameters of what not to do,” he suggests.
I arch my brows at him. “You really want to see Oliver be queen fucking bee, huh?”
He side-eyes me as if to say, It’s not like that. Oh, it is like that. He likes Oliver like that. I am too good at what I do not to notice. (Unfortunately.)
Jake says, “I just think he deserves to make the choice himself.”
“What role?” Trevor suddenly appears, snatching a nautical striped towel off the stack by Hailey’s feet. Sidney is halfway down the beach with a group of college girls. Out of earshot and almost eyesight.
“Be Trent Waterford’s best friend,” Hailey explains. “Rocky’s old position.”
“I’ll do it,” Trevor volunteers.
I glare. “No, you won’t, shithead.”
He dries water from his pale legs. “I think I deserve to make that choice myself.” He echoes what Jake just said.
I lift my brows at the Koning heir. “Do me a favor next time and shut the fuck up.”
Jake exhales, then looks at Trevor. “If your brother and sister think it’s not a good idea, then it probably isn’t.”
Trevor runs a hand through his damp hair. “Hailey never said it wasn’t one.”
She blinks a couple times. I imprison a hot breath, waiting for her to decree, It’s a shit plan. Her mind must be racing, and I can’t keep quiet. “He’s not ready,” I tell her.
Trevor’s expression deadens. “Thanks, asshole. I believe in you, too.”
“It’s not that, Trev.” I catch his arm before he peels away, and I tug him back into the shade. “You’re too young in Trent’s eyes. He’s in his thirties. You’re nineteen.”
“Then he can view me as his little brother.”
“He knows you’re my little brother,” I retort. “He’s pissed at me right now, and he’s a vindictive fuck. He might use you to retaliate against me.”
“Is it being used if you know it’s happening, Rock?” he questions. I think about his relationship with Sidney. “I could use it to my benefit. I could use him, too.”
Hailey’s eyes rise to mine. “Trevor might not be able to influence him like you, but he could keep tabs on him. If Trent wants to get back at you, he’ll keep Trevor really close to rub it in your face. He could be our eyes and ears, and that’s better than nothing.”
I grind my molars.
“It’s another piece on the board, Rocky,” Hailey says. “It’s already hard with Phoebe off, and now you…”
I don’t think Trevor will be manipulated or played. Trent Waterford isn’t in the dark triad. But he’s so fucking unbearable, I don’t even want Trevor around him. Let alone kissing his ass. It’s not easy.
I’m not ready for my little brother to take my role, but I’ve never been ready for this. I’ve never wanted this, even though it’s part of what he’s always desired.
“This isn’t the only option,” I tell Trevor.
“I want to do this, Rock. Let me.” He’s pleading.
Christ. I squint out at the sun, then turn back to him. Knowing I need to give him the chance.
Trevor needs to get into Trent’s good graces. Quickly. So I tell him, “We’re about to have a very public, very aggressive fight. You’re going to need to hit me because I don’t want Trent to believe you’re scrawny and can be pushed around.”
Trevor is grinning.
Make no mistake, this next part, I viscerally hate. But the things that torch my soul are just necessary.
I shove my brother toward the ocean as he screams, “Get the fuck over it, Grey!” I stalk toward him with pent-up anger that lives inside me 24/7, and he bumps up into my chest, his eyes ablaze in ways they never really are, and I think, Keep it up, Trev. Don’t let go of the rage.
—
Three minutes later, I’m wrestling my little brother to the sand as fury explodes inside me, and I let his fist connect with my jaw.
Not once but twice, I push him forcefully off me as my mouth fills with blood.
Sidney shouts his name in the distance, and he almost breaks the fake animosity between us to look at her.
I thrust my hands at his chest, and he comes back to land a blow on my ribs.
At that one, I fake cough and fake wheeze.
From down the beach, Phoebe yells, “What the fuck, Trevor?!” Oliver and Nova outsprint her, and soon, they’re separating me from my brother.
I spit a wad of crimson saliva onto the sand and shout at my brother, “If you even step near Trent, me and you are going to have a fucking problem! You’re my responsibility! He’s a shitbag. I don’t want you around him!”
Trevor lets out a pained laugh. “You think you can tell me what to do?! I’m a fucking adult. I like Trent more than I like you right now. So fuck you. I never wanted you as a brother anyway.” His own words impale him. He slips me an uncertain look. Afraid he’s harmed me.
I spit again and glare. Hoping he stops breaking character. “Trevor.” I try to reach out to him, but not so he’ll reciprocate. “I don’t want you hanging around him, Trevor.”
Trevor flips me off with two middle fingers like a little punk and walks backward toward Sidney and her friends. When he spins around, he casts one glance back at me.
I can’t tell him, I’m okay. Your lies can’t hurt me. I still love you, shithead.
Because I know the truth. The Graveses do, too, when I give a sign it’s fake by rubbing hard at my temple like I have a migraine.
Phoebe plays along, not dropping her shock and horror. I let her draw me away from the water while Trevor retreats into Sidney’s consoling hug and her gaggle of friends.
“What the hell was that?” she whispers while we hike up toward the umbrella where I left Jake and Hailey.
I hawk up more blood, spitting one more time. I’m proud of his right hook, but fuck. I’m about to explain his new position in the takedown job of Trent Waterford, but I suddenly notice what she’s wearing.
The gold heart-shaped locket belongs to Elizabeth Graves. And yet, it’s not what’s setting off a shrill alarm in my head.
“Is that Nova’s shirt?” I narrow my gaze at her.
She glares back. “Yeah, so?”
So, why is she wearing his shirt? Phoebe isn’t Hailey. Her normal beach attire is skimpy and barely fucking clothed. What made her feel like she needed to cover up?
Last night.
Being drugged, maybe. I knew it’d affect her, but I haven’t been sure to what degree.
“Don’t look at me like that.” She crosses her arms and raises her stiff shoulders. “I’m fine…sort of. But being sort of fine is still fine.”
“Fine,” I snap back.
“Fine.”
I scrape a hand across my throbbing mouth, then I reach out and draw my girlfriend against my chest. Phebs untangles her arms to hold on to me. I cup the back of her head and feel her pounding pulse begin to slow. Then I kiss her temple before she says, “I didn’t want them to stare at my body.”
“Who?” Aggravated heat ratchets up inside me.
“Just these guys on the beach.”
I glare out. Wanting to maim and injure. I can only hope this is just Phoebe still processing the night. She’ll be okay.
The best part of this moment—everyone can see me and her together. There is no more hiding what she means to me. There really doesn’t have to be.