Chapter Forty-Five
FORTY-FIVE
Phoebe
“He’s going to be okay,” Oliver says.
I’d say it’s picture-perfect pastoral imagery, if not for the six-foot-one brooding Nova Graves standing in the backyard with a canister of gasoline. He runs a hand over his buzzed head and cranes his neck back toward us.
“You know I can hear you both,” he says into a deep scowl.
Oliver steps off the porch onto the soft grass, and I follow him to our brother’s side. A large painting with an ornate gold frame sits on a pile of wood.
“We weren’t trying to whisper behind your back,” I tell Nova.
“Yeah, we’re not assholes.” Oliver stuffs his hands in his pants pockets, a smile in his eyes.
Nova blinks between us. “I’m fine.”
“It’s okay if you aren’t,” I tell him. “It’s only been three days since our dad died.”
Varrick Wolfe’s death was ruled an accident. No foul play. A final notch in the morbid fate of the Wolfe family. He was quietly buried in the plot next to his late wife.
Nova’s grip tightens on the gasoline canister. “You mean since I killed him.”
My heart skips. “We promised never to say those words out loud.”
“First and last time.” Nova turns to the painting.
It’s not just any art. The oil painting is an original by William-Adolphe Bouguereau.
It depicts the fight between a demon and a man who’d been a fraud.
An imposter. Dante et Virgile was Nova’s favorite painting after he sold a fake to the Musée d’Orsay.
For him to wake up this morning and want to burn it panicked both Oliver and me. We forced ourselves into his car, and he complained the entire drive here.
The reality is that Nova protects all of us. Has protected us from the dawn of time. Every escape. Every last-second recovery. He’d been behind the wheel to drive us away from danger.
And three days ago, he was willing to die for us.
Rocky told Oliver and me what happened on the boat. How Nova was finishing the job in the only way he knew how. But if Rocky hadn’t pulled him out of the water…
My eyes burn and my throat becomes swollen. I just—I need Nova to know that we’re here for him. Whatever he goes through next, we’re going to protect him.
It’s our turn.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” I ask as he untwists the cap to the canister.
Oliver pops a piece of gum in his mouth. “We could wrap it in cellophane. Bury it.”
Nova exhales and shakes his head before he dumps the gasoline onto the painting.
Oliver whistles. “Just so we’re clear, I don’t approve of lighting several million dollars up in flames.”
Nova doesn’t stop. “It’s too risky to try to sell it, and Rocky thinks it’s cursed.”
A gust of wind blows through. I hold down my minidress with one hand to keep myself from flashing my brothers. “Is that why you’re burning it?” I ask in confusion. “Because of Rocky’s superstition?”
“Maybe he has a point,” Nova says. “It’s a bad omen.”
“Rocky has a point?” My mouth gapes.
Nova sends me an instant glower. “You’re not telling your husband I said that.”
Emotion pools through me so viscerally. So suddenly. My heart swells.
Nova tilts his head at me, our eyes latched. “Phoebe…”
“You called him my husband,” I say softly, tenderly, holding on to this moment.
Nova sighs. “Let’s not make it a thing.”
“Oh, it’s already a thing,” I say.
“A big thing.” Oliver smiles.
Nova forcefully tosses the empty canister to the ground. “Isn’t that what he is to you?”
I inhale the crisp morning air. “Yeah, he is. I just didn’t think you’d acknowledge it.”
“I have two eyes.”
“And apparently a heart.” Oliver grins.
Nova scowls at the ground. “Maybe somewhere in there. But I don’t know…I don’t think someone with a heart would feel what I’m feeling.”
“Which is?” I ask in a soft whisper.
Nova lifts his head to meet my eyes, then Oliver’s. Sudden emotion hits him and his face breaks. “Relief.”
Oliver grabs the back of his neck, pulling him into his chest. I wrap my arm around Nova’s waist, and he spreads his arm across my shoulder.
Our little sibling huddle is indestructible.
Powerful. I feel ten years old again in the backseat of a car, smashed between them as we flee a city in the middle of the night.
The only comfort of starting over was starting over with them.
The sound of gravel catches all our attention and jolts us apart. My heart lurches until I recognize the convertible pulling into the driveway.
“What is she doing here?” Oliver frowns.
The woman who raised us, birthed us, made us who we are, exits the driver’s side door.
“I invited her.” Nova removes a pack of matches from his pocket.
My stomach twists painfully, especially when I see Addison in the passenger seat and Everett sitting in the back.
There’s only one reason I can think of for Nova to call her.
He’s going to leave with them—he’s going to choose to keep grifting.
But it wouldn’t make any sense. He can barely call Elizabeth Mom.
Oliver’s face collapses. “Nov, you didn’t want us here, but you invited her?” He shakes his head in confusion.
Nova nods. “To say goodbye. They’re leaving town. She texted me this morning.”
“They’re leaving?” My stomach doesn’t unsettle. Why? Shouldn’t I be happy that they’re going away?
Our mom comes closer, golden-blonde hair tucked back into a claw clip, strands hanging delicately over her face, and she pulls off her Louboutin red-bottom heels when she approaches the grass and walks barefoot until she’s across from us.
Her eyes flit to each of us, emotion pooling in this silent moment. “Sweet spiders,” she says into a staggered exhale.
This is goodbye? My heart throbs. My head fogs. “The job isn’t done,” I blurt out. “You can’t leave.” Why does this hurt? This shouldn’t hurt. I’ve barely seen her this summer anyway.
Is it because her departure feels more permanent? How many times has she ever returned to the same alias after leaving a job for good?
Never.
“My part is done, bug.” Her eyes glass. “It’s time for us to go.”
“But if we have the money…” I think about the Wolfe fortune. “You three don’t need to keep going. You can settle down. You can retire…” My voice trails off at the look in her eyes. Disappointment like I’d forgotten who and what they are.
“Phoebe, we don’t only do this for the money. You know that.”
My heart caves.
Oliver smiles weakly. “Sticking it to the man?”
“That’s Addy’s mantra,” she says. “And I will go where she goes. But you can’t beat the lifestyle.”
“The money doesn’t hurt,” Nova says.
She smiles. “It never does.” Her gaze returns to me, her expression softening.
“Hold tight to Rocky, bug. I’ve always loved that you had him.
” I know. “You have what I never found in a man. Love that you can always trust. I never wanted your life to completely mirror mine. I’m so glad it hasn’t.
” It crashes into me—that all the times she wanted me with Rocky, it’d been in hopes I’d turn out different from her.
Hot film burns my eyes.
She tells us, “I respect what you built here, and we’re not going to mess it up for you kids. This life…it’s yours.”
“You’re releasing us,” Nova says in realization.
Tears well up in her eyes. “As much as a mother can, spider.” She pulls a pair of sunglasses from her coat pocket and puts them on, hiding her emotion quickly. “Well, we had a good run. Nova. Oliver…” Her gaze lands on me. My name can’t get past her lips because her chin starts quivering.
We immediately close the distance between each other until we’re in a tight hug. My body shudders. She’s leaving for good.
All the pain.
All the betrayal.
It fades away in this moment to make way for new beginnings. She kisses the side of my head, her voice full of honey-sweet velvet, like those summer days when I was six, seven, eight. I’m just a little girl wanting her mom to think she’s the bravest, most beautiful thing in the world.
“Phoebe,” she says. “I love you so much.”
I believe her.
I hear the flick of a match and feel the heat of a fire behind me as flames eat away at the painting.
“Mom…” My voice cracks. “I love you, too.”
—
Nova, Oliver, and I drive back to Victoria, our luggage from Stonehaven crammed into the trunk. We’re all moving into the Koning house (Jake’s side) while lawyers go over the Wolfe trust and settle the inheritance of the estate.
Nova makes a detour down Main Street before we head to Jake’s. It takes him twenty minutes to find a parking spot, all the lots full today. He’s been grumbling curse words about shitty parking jobs and looks like he wants to key an Aston Martin that took up two spaces.
When we’re finally parked, I shut the car door with a thump and put my hand over my eyes to block the bright midday sun. “Did we miss the ceremony?”
Oliver’s on his phone. “Nah. Hailey says it won’t start for another five minutes. She’s at the fountain if you want to see her.”
Yes, very much. But a wave of guilt assaults me when I see Oliver’s shoulders slump. He puts his phone back in his pocket and tries to fake a smile. But I can see the truth…
He’s in pain.
He’s hurting.
Hailey is still married to Trent. The job isn’t done. As long as she’s Mrs. Trent Waterford, Oliver can’t be around her. Not really. Not how they both want.
How long will this last? It’s a question no one has the answer to, because the most important thing in a long con is…patience.
I leave my brothers to hurriedly push through the crowds.
They gather around a tall sturdy oak tree tied with a white ribbon.
In lieu of a funeral for Varrick, the beneficiary of the Wolfe trust has chosen a memorial service to celebrate the entire Wolfe family.
Seeing the amount of people coming out for Rocky’s family—it pushes emotion into me.
I try to keep it together, especially when I find Hailey sitting on the fountain, a book in hand. Her husband stands beside her, scrolling absentmindedly on his phone. I’d like to say Trent is doing his best impersonation of being a complete douchebag, but it’s just who he is in his soul.
“Hails, there you are.” I capture Hailey’s attention. She glances up from her book as I dig out a pill bottle from my crossbody bag. “I have your prescription.”
Trent gawks at me. “Could you be any less discreet, Phoebe?”
Hailey quickly takes the pills from me and shoves them in her purse. She mouths a Thanks.
I glare at Trent. “Just helping a girl out, Trent.”
The morning after the Fourth, Hailey confessed to Trent that she had an outbreak of herpes, and she’d need at least a few weeks before it cleared up so they could have sex.
By the disgusted look on his face, I’d say he’ll let her take as long as she needs. We’ve got to thank Carter for the prescription. It only sucks that this is another dent in Hailey’s reputation. But she’s made it clear she’s willing to run it over with a Mack Truck to get this done.
“Can you give us a minute?” I ask Trent.
He sighs in annoyance. “Sure. I need to find Collin anyway.” He’s promoted his childhood best friend back to the number one position.
I plop down on the fountain ledge beside Hailey. She has on a chain-link necklace and her usual snakebite lip piercings. “The godmothers left,” I whisper.
She looks up from her book, and I see the puffiness around her eyes. “I know.”
I suck in a tight breath. “Your mom called you?”
She nods, her eyes misting over. “I wish they could have stayed for us…but I think they were okay leaving, knowing we have each other.”
I sniff back emotion and nudge her shoulder. “Dynamic duo. Like Thelma and Louise.”
Her nose crinkles. “They die at the end.”
I think harder. “Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy?” Nova would be proud of that comic book pull.
Hailey’s lips lift. “That actually kinda fits.”
Katherine Rhodes walks over, clipboard and scissors in her arms, and interrupts us. “Hailey,” she says. “As the beneficiary of the Wolfe trust, would you like to cut the ribbon?”
Hailey closes her book. I give her a smile of encouragement, even as my throat dries.
Before his death, Varrick had filed paperwork naming Hailey Thornhall as the sole beneficiary of the Wolfe trust. She’s set to receive the entire estate in a couple weeks.
She’ll own Stonehaven, Baubles & Bookends, dozens of other properties in town, and have amassed a multibillion-dollar fortune.
But she’ll still be married to Trent fucking Waterford, and no one is safe until he’s gone for good.