Chapter 24
CHAPTER
TWENTY-FOUR
STORM
Iknow he’s inside this apartment. I watched him walk in myself half an hour after Sloane texted me one fucking word, to come by in the morning.
After I invited her on a date to see bands play songs I don’t even particularly love save for a few but the way she looked when I told her I didn’t like “Torn” made it seem as if I should be put on trial for death by firing squad.
And yeah, maybe I want to see her because dealing with Lydia and the Flynn’s bullshit is making me twitchy and maybe I want to see her because the coke in my system is making me ragey, but most of all I want to see her because she’s nothing like anything else I’ve got.
After last night, I need an escape.
And maybe, too, I have to stop staring at her camera feed, worried now that she’ll be the next target since my anonymous texter seems to be a goddamn murderer.
I pace in the hall of her second story apartment and close my eyes tight.
It’s Friday on a college campus but it’s a long weekend so the place is dead and I can hear her TV through the freakishly thin walls.
I can’t tell what it is they’re watching but if she starts moaning, I’m going to shoot him on sight.
Before I can pull out the Glock, my phone—a far less lethal weapon—starts vibrating in the pocket of my Tom Ford deep blue bomber jacket.
I snatch it out before I start shooting idiots named Dax, and answer as I jog down the stairs to the landing between floors so Sloane won’t hear me out here like a stalker.
I know she doesn’t believe I’ve got cameras at her door.
I’ve seen her searching. She just can’t seem to see over the frame of the door and they’re the size of a dime so I don’t fault her, and I’m relieved.
If she saw them, she’d throw them away as she gave me the middle finger right before she did.
“What?”
It’s Dad on the other line.
I stare out at the dark forest beyond the edges of the complex’s parking lot, my Subaru backed in at the far end of the empty paved area. The tree leaves are dying, littering the ground with piles of red and orange and yellow, and there’s a chill in the air that makes me shiver.
Halloween is coming.
So I should know what Dad wants to talk about, but I’m still surprised when he addresses it.
“Your mother wants to do dinner with all of us for your birthday at Oriri House. Don’t make any plans for Halloween.”
I don’t say anything as I dig my hands into my black Gucci jogging pants and pull out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. I hold my phone between my chin and shoulder as I put the Camel in my mouth and light it, the flame sparking up easily.
I used to vape, but Cortland made me stop when Remi moved in, and I was glad to. Too many bad habits a loser makes and I’m already too close to the line.
Now, smoking isn’t a habit for me unless I’m high on coke.
Then anything goes.
Including murdering Sloane’s boyfriend.
I inhale and feel immediate relief as I push both the pack and the lighter into my pants pocket, then grab my phone with my hand again.
I exhale smoke through my nose and flick the ash from the cigarette to the empty concrete down below. Somewhere thunder rumbles but it’s not raining like it was earlier. Less lightning, too.
I ignore Dad’s proposed plans and say something about what I really want to discuss instead. “I don’t think Lydia Flynn killed Grey. I’m not even so sure she killed Indie.”
I threw the phone in the lake, but the memory of the messages haunts me like Grey’s body inside my head.
Dad stays silent. He’s always been this way. Quiet when he’s thinking, never one to feel pressured into filling the space with babbling.
My mother is the same, but she’ll simply hang up on you if she doesn’t want to answer. Cassia Golden Leary has always done what she wants. It’s why her and dad don’t have love between them anymore. Only some sort of twisted loyalty borne from crime.
I glance over my shoulder, trying not to think about Sloane resting her head on Dax’s.
Dad better start talking or Hawthorn Leary is going to have to figure out what I know all on his own.
We don’t really work in the same spheres, not knowingly.
My drop offs for him are done with little information on my part.
But when dead people start cropping up, well, that’s my parents’ domain entirely.
I’d be lying though if I said I didn’t want more insight. Are Cortland and Remi and Lyle going to be safe when they come back? Is Sloane safe?
And Lydia…
In my head, I feel her body when she saw my chemist’s corpse on the ground.
She was rigid, and I swear for a moment, she stopped breathing.
Why?
What happened to her?
And more importantly, what does my dad know about it?
He told me not to fuck with Lynx Flynn or his family. Why?
Two bodies dropped now and all I know is Lydia thinks I did something to her brother, whom I know nothing about. Even Dad hasn’t yet told me his name and asking around about the Flynns makes people shut up real quick.
“No matter what you think she did or didn’t do, stay away from Lydia.” Dad’s voice is low.
I wait a beat, but that’s all he says.
“Why?” I press. “She’s threatened me. She’s threatened my friends. In your world, how would that go? Why are you so afraid of Lynx Flynn and why won’t you tell me anything about her fucking family?”
“When did you see her?”
I scoff. “You answer my question, I might consider answering yours. I’m not on your leash anymore, Dad.”
“You might wish you were when this is all over.”
I roll my eyes and take another drag from the cigarette before I flick it over the balcony and start pacing again. If Dax doesn’t want another circular scar, he better be on the opposite side of the couch when I walk into Sloane’s apartment.
“Tell me about her brother.” I say it slowly, coldly, even though my heart is trying to drive its way through my ribcage.
I keep pacing in Dad’s fucking silence and I want my hands around his throat. The hotel room, Lynx, my mom’s heartbreak over the years.
Fuck them all.
“Listen to me, Storm, very carefully.” He’s cold, his words like ice. He rarely uses this tone anymore with me, since he’s been trying to piece together everything in our family he broke.
I stop pacing and bite my tongue to keep from screaming at him.
“Stay the fuck away from Lydia, and don’t you dare breathe near her brother.”
“I don’t even know who her—”
“You do, you just don’t realize it, and trust me, son…” He trails off. I hear him exhale and it’s the most honest sound I’ve heard from him in years. “You’re better off in the dark.”