Chapter Twenty-Three
TWENTY-THREE
Phoebe
My spine is stiff and my body pale, find me where I tell my tales.
It’s not a graveyard like I thought. It’s a bookstore.
Jake solves my next clue in under two seconds, and once we’re inside Baubles & Bookends, we seclude ourselves in the least visited section. Bird-watching. I don’t dust off a guide to spotting warblers, not when Jake is forcing himself from pacing by death gripping a shelf.
The top of the shelf to be exact.
He is the tallest Koning boy.
By now, I’m used to craning my neck to meet his eyes, especially when we’re standing only inches apart. He said he’s just shy of six-three. I think it’s more likely he’s six-four. An inch taller than my brother Oliver. If anything smells like a boast or success, Jake undercuts it. He’s not even a humblebragger.
He’s just plain humble.
I’ve never met someone with his affluence who would actively downplay all their accolades—everything they’ve done and everything they can do. Like how they were recruited for a top-three US polo club but declined, or how they were Mr. Victoria’s Sweetheart five years—five freaking years!—in a row.
It makes what Trent said even more infuriating.
Jake has talents. Plural. His lack of patting himself on the back is making me want to take out a Jake’s Awesome ad. Hoist it in the air, pass around flyers, buy a billboard, print it in the Weekly .
“Are you okay?” I ask him, more concerned as his breathing sounds arduous and his eyes hold a steady glare. It pushes me to say more. “Trent was wrong. You’re not talentless. Really, I think he’s jealous of everything you have going for you, which is a lot.”
Jake tries to calm down. “I don’t really care what my brother says about me. It’s like a fart in the wind.”
I let out a surprised laugh. “Did you just make a joke?”
“A small one.” His lips begin to rise, too.
I share his smile.
Jake is very secure about who he is. It’s admirable…and it reminds me of Rocky. No one can tell them who they are.
Jake peeks out the store window. As if half anticipating Rocky will rush out of McIntire’s to find me. I’m fully anticipating his arrival, and I’m trying not to be disappointed if it doesn’t happen.
Then we check to see if any bookstore browsers are around. Coast is clear.
“How long were you at the bar with Trent?” Jake asks, hushed.
“I don’t know,” I say truthfully. “It’s not like Rocky and I knew he’d be there.”
He can’t stop shaking his head. “You shouldn’t be in a room alone with him.”
“ Rocky was there ,” I emphasize. Did he not see him?
“He can only do so much, Phoebe,” Jake whispers with a type of raw concern that tries to cut me open. “This is torturing him…and you.”
“It’s always been a little bit of torture,” I murmur with slight heat. “It’s what we’re used to. It’s what we’re good at.”
Jake swallows, then shakes his head again, staring at a kid’s stuffed pelican. His eyes glass and become bloodshot before they reach me. “Your parents abused you—after what they did to you six, I feel like a monster for using what they taught you for my gain.”
“Don’t,” I choke out. “My mom was kind to me. I loved her. They gave us so much—”
“They took so much more from you, Phoebe.”
I know they did. I sit with this for a beat. “I think Rocky could always see that in a way we couldn’t. We were so blinded by love, but they couldn’t shine a light bright enough at him.” I choke on a strange laugh. “And he could’ve left us, you know? He could’ve walked away, but he never did. He stayed for us even though he hated them.” I stare dazedly around the bookshelves. “Now we all hate them…and we’re still working with them.”
Addison and Elizabeth have remained in New York, with the occasional pop-in to spend a lunch or two with Claudia. They’ve been giving Claudia reasons to think I’m low-class trash and not worthy of Jake or the Koning name. Even going as far as making her paranoid that we might be getting engaged.
His mom’s distaste for me is helpful. She’s become ruder, and I hope she continues losing tact. It means she’s more likely to do something awful.
Everett has stayed in Connecticut, strangely. He’s slithered his way into the Koning estate. Jake’s father hired Everett as staff manager for the housekeepers, groundskeepers, pool boys, private chef, etc.
“It’s hard to see whether we could do this by ourselves,” I whisper to Jake. “I’m more scared of trying to do it without them and failing, because failing means…” Death. It feels like death, at least.
He reaches out and holds my hand. Not in a romantic way. It’s just pure comfort, purely consoling. “I’m not going anywhere, even if it does fail. This is my home, and some things are worth sticking around for.”
I nod robustly. I think of Hailey racing around for The Hunt. I think of Nova out on the Salty Miss staring up at twinkling constellations in the night sky. I think of Oliver grinning as he picks out tacky sweater-vests for the Ugly Sweater Run. I think of Trevor trying to be involved in everything. I think of Rocky…
Of his laughter when I fell on the ice rink during the Winter Wonderland Festival. Of how he skated effortlessly closer and helped his sister up—and then teased me.
It’s not about the quirky events. We’ve all been more ourselves here than anywhere else. Our relationships to each other have never been this real in one place, one city, one town. Not until now.
“I think I know what you mean,” I say so quietly.
His gaze drops to me. “I’m glad you’re here. I’m glad he’s here with you, too. That you all are hoping to create something for yourselves. And the only peace I really have is knowing I can fight for it with you.”
It feels comforting knowing he will. “You’re a good guy, Jake.”
“You’re a good person, too.”
I snort.
“I’m serious, baby. I think I’ve gotten to know you pretty well so far.” His eyes move over a bookshelf, and I’m sensing he sees a bystander-turned-eavesdropper.
I’m careful not to act suspicious, so I just stay in tune with Jake as he says, “Like how you love teatime, only for the finger sandwiches and petit fours.”
True. I smile. “Who doesn’t love a tiny bite-sized cake?”
“You’re very familiar with etiquette. But you prefer when there are less forks set out, purely because they take up space on the table.”
Also true.
“It’s not practical,” I note.
“You love the sand. Most people hate when it gets in their toes and ends up everywhere in their house, but you love the remnants of a place. You love taking pieces of somewhere with you.”
Chills slip down my arms from being seen. It’s not uncomfortable like I’m standing naked in front of Jake.
I realize I like that he sees me.
His eyes flit from me to the bystander, then back down to me. “And you’re damn near proficient at beating me at poker. You’ve never lost on purpose, which I appreciate.”
“Hailey taught me, you know. She’s way better than I am. You should ask her to play sometime.”
“And that right there—it’s not self-deprecation as much as it is your love of her.” He reads me. “You ride hard for others more than you ride for yourself.”
“All likely true.” I motion back to him. “You absolutely adore animals, but you don’t have any pets of your own. It’s not that it’s too much work, because you’re used to juggling a thousand and one errands and tasks. You just don’t want them to be lonely when you’re not around.”
He seems impressed, but then says, “You’re the second to notice.”
I’m interested. “Who’s the first?”
“Who do you think?” Must be someone I know by the way he’s speaking.
I squint at him. “Hailey?”
“Yeah. Hailey.” He has a soft smile, and I love that he’s grown fond of her. Who wouldn’t? She’s amazing .
“She would solve the mystery of Jake Waterford before me.” That’s my best friend! I could shout it from the rooftops of the world. “But you weren’t that hard to crack.”
“A little hard, come on.” We share a smile.
“You hold people at arm’s length,” I mention. “You’re scared to let them into your world, but you’ve let us in.”
He nods. “Yeah, I have.”
I nod back, too, because we’ve done the same for him. Then I point out, “And you hate cilantro.”
He opens his hand like it’s obvious why. “It tastes like soap.”
“It’s delicious , and you’re not the only one who thinks it’s soap.”
“Grey,” he nods, already knowing. We really have spent too much time with each other. Unlike Jake, Rocky will eat anything with cilantro, despite being repulsed by the flavor, and Jake will pick out every speck of green leaf with his fork.
I smile bigger, just thinking about Rocky, and Jake is witnessing my mushy, too lovey-dovey reaction.
I scrunch my face.
He just says, “He’s your forever person.”
It’s not even a question. “I can’t lose him.” It’d feel really catastrophic now, but likely, it always would’ve.
I think about how Jake has never wanted to bring a date home to his family, and he’s lived a life trying to protect everyone around him, much like Rocky. Only, Rocky has finally let himself chase after love and be with me, despite the risks around us.
Jake isn’t willing to take those kinds of risks for love. Not until he’s usurped his family.
“Maybe one day, you’ll be able to have a forever person, too,” I tell him.
“Maybe,” he breathes, then his brows furrow at the window. “He’s jogging over here.”
Sure enough, Rocky is jaywalking across the street to reach the bookstore. I press my lips together to keep the enthusiasm at bay.
Once on the sidewalk, Rocky forces a smile at Jake through the shop window. It looks like a fuck you smile, and Jake side-eyes me. “Your ex.”
“You mean, you didn’t sign us up for a couple’s date with the devil?” I mouth, My favorite.
He laughs.
I hear the chime of the door as Rocky enters Baubles & Bookends.
My real boyfriend finds me with my fake one in the back. He pretends to examine the many shelves, but really, he’s taking stock of potential eavesdroppers. “So your brother is a real sack of shit,” Rocky states quietly enough.
“He’s getting worse with Phoebe, isn’t he?” Jake asks, concern and anger hardening his face.
Rocky speaks in a harsh whisper. “The longer you’re with her, the more he wants her. It’s that painfully simple, unfortunately.”
Jake rubs the bridge of his nose, and when they both stare down at me like I’m the fragile doll threatening to crack, I’m offended. I’ve worked so hard not to be the one to compromise a job.
I can’t be the reason they start backing out now.
I spot a flash of blonde hair behind a bookshelf. Relief washes over me when Hailey rounds the corner.
“I’ve got them all,” Hailey pants, her hands on her knees and her tote bag of golden geese thumping to the ground. “We…just…need…to go…” She motions toward the town square. “To win.”
Pride swells so strong. “That Huntswoman title is yours, Hails. Go get it.”
“She doesn’t get the title, technically,” Jake tells me.
“Jake does.” Rocky raises and lowers his brows with bitterness.
I’m pissed. “So Hailey did all the work and you get to be Huntsman?”
“I can forfeit it,” Jake says, “but they won’t give the title to her. She didn’t pay to participate.”
“I’m just a Clue Girl.” Hailey catches her breath and shrugs at me like you know how it is .
Yeah, it’s bullshit, and if we were here in positions of power like Rocky, Hailey could’ve played this game from the other side and been dubbed Eighty-Eighth Huntswoman. But she’s been a broke server at a country club for me.
“We’ll meet up in five?” Jake asks me and Rocky. Somewhere more private is an unsaid note. We agree, and Hailey reminds us about the DNA results tonight—where me, my brothers, and the Tinrock siblings are planning to read them together, also in private.
I have a feeling half her chipper spirit is knowing answers are on the horizon.
Hailey picks up the tote bag of golden geese, but Jake reaches out a hand and slips his fingers in the canvas straps. She blushes a little when he slings it on his shoulder like it’s a rucksack. “Thanks,” she says with a rising smile.
“It’s what I’m here for.”
Hailey nods a ton, and he nods back, their lips lifting higher and higher. They’re locked into each other like we’ve completely disappeared from the bookstore.
They’re just friends…right? I haven’t really picked Hailey’s brain about her current crushes, one being Carter, because when I do bring up guys, she switches the subject to research . I figure I’m just causing her unnecessary stress, and that’s the last thing I want to do.
My eyes ping between them, then to Rocky.
He has an expression like he’d prefer to teleport to a remote island and dive into the abyss.
“Let’s go get your trophy,” Jake says.
“My trophy?” Hailey smiles even more up at him. I think I like this for her. Is she glowing?
“It belongs to you, if you want it.”
Her smile touches her eyes. “I have a perfect spot for it. Now we just have to run.” She takes his hand and literally sprints, tugging him along on her chase for first.
—
Jake, Rocky, and I are alone in my bedroom above the bookstore later that night. Tension from Baubles & Bookends has most definitely returned since Hailey isn’t here to cut through it. I’m sitting cross-legged on my bed while Rocky leans a hip against my dresser, and Jake sits on my vanity ottoman like we’re about to have a therapy session.
Which I, frankly, don’t know if I’m going to be good at. Maybe I suck at therapy. Maybe it isn’t for me.
I raise my palms. “I know you both care about my well-being, but you don’t need that to affect the outcome of this job. This isn’t anything out of the norm.”
“What’s the norm?” Jake asks.
“Our norm was fucked up,” Rocky says.
“So is Trent.” I give him a haughty smile.
He returns one with a little more acid. “Cute.”
“The cutest .” I lean back on my hands, and I reflexively spread my legs open. Jake is right there , and I didn’t…I didn’t even think about him.
I go numb, and I swing my legs closed. My feet thump to the floor. Their concern is asphyxiating.
Jake is hunched forward with his fingers steepled to his lips.
“Phebs?” Rocky pushes off the dresser.
“That wasn’t for you…I mean, I wasn’t trying to seduce you. I was on autopilot.” My face burns.
“It’s fine,” Rocky assures me. He keeps his distance, probably because I’m shooting him looks to stay five feet away. I simultaneously do and don’t feel like being touched.
I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “Let’s just stay the course. Let’s not nuke any plans because you think I can’t cope with an asshole.”
“He’s a little more than an asshole,” Jake says, his strong jaw tensing.
“But sure, let’s downplay it,” Rocky says with the tip of his head at me. I take it all back—I don’t like their amity. Maybe it was better when they were at war with each other.
I think I fucking hate this.
“We know what he is,” I say more angrily. “When it comes to Trent, you don’t need to think about my feelings.”
Rocky looks at me like I’ve driven off a cliff without him. “Yeah, that’s not possible.”
“We can try,” I protest.
He shifts his stance with heat. “I’m no better than my fucking father if I don’t think about your feelings. So no, I’m not trying that out like it’s a new sports car.”
“Don’t make this about me,” I say with pain in my lungs. “This is about the two of you being scared for me, when you don’t need to be.”
“Phoebe,” Jake says gently. “We have reason to be. The Alps—”
“I know,” I cut in fast, not wanting to crack open that dingy closet. I swallow a lodged lump. “I can handle Trent.”
“I can barely handle him,” Rocky confesses, bowing toward me with his hands on his thighs. He’s not touching me, but it feels like he’s reaching inside of me and fisting my heart. “You’re not taking one for the team.”
Carlsbad. What I did. It crashes into me. My eyes sting. “But you’ll take the one?” I point out as he straightens up. “And then the second, the third.”
“You’ve taken enough , Phoebe.”
“And you haven’t?” I counter.
“It’s not a competition to see who can suffer the fucking most.”
“You’re right.” I cross my arms, holding my elbows. “None of us should be suffering, but it’s kind of the consequence of scamming people. It’s not all sunshine and rainbows with pots of gold at the end.”
Rocky has his hands threaded on the back of his neck. He’s just staring at me like I’m volleying off a wall he wants to tear down.
I want to be of use, but it feels like I’m warring with myself just trying to be.
“Jake, you wanted me to handle this, didn’t you?” It’s why he believed I could be his fake girlfriend in the first place.
“I meant more for you to handle my mother, who pressured one of my girlfriends to eat dog food —this isn’t the same as that.”
God, Claudia.
I let go of my arms.
Jake rests his elbow on my makeup vanity, but he looks far from relaxed. His whole body is as tightly coiled as Rocky’s. “Can you be honest with yourself?” Jake asks me.
“I usually am.”
“Then really, would you be okay in a situation where neither of us could get to you, and you were alone with my brother? Because we wouldn’t be okay.”
I’m angry that this is even a problem we’re dealing with.
Rocky can tell, because he says, “This isn’t your fault, Phebs. This is how these fucking pea-brain men are.”
“I know,” I say hotly. “I’ve dealt with them since I hit puberty and grew tits. I get it .”
I hate it.
I want Trent to suffer. Horrible, horrible pain. Blood simmers underneath my skin, and I breathe hot breath through my nose. “We’re hoping to get dirt on Claudia and Trent, something that could ruin their reputation with the board. Get them axed. Tarnish their social standings in Victoria. Well, Trent is right there . We’ve seen it—”
“No,” Rocky cuts in.
Jake has a confused wrinkle between his brows. “What are you talking about?” he asks, then glances at Rocky, who is tunnel visioned on me.
“It’s what our parents would suggest,” I say, more to Rocky. “You can’t even deny they wouldn’t. Everett would tell me to pretend to be drunk and lie there as he tries to—”
“It’s not happening,” Rocky says so softly, in a tone meant to cradle me. “It’s not happening.”
I take short, choppy breaths, uncertain of what I feel. Because I want to say, I can do it. I’ve learned to be numb to it. I can do anything, but I’ve stopped wanting to put myself in those situations. To put Rocky in that position where he has to be on time.
Right. On. Time.
Because if he’s too late…
I squeeze my eyes shut. “It’s the easiest…” I trail off because it is the easiest way to trap Mr. Firstborn Fuckbag in his own misdeeds. But it’s also the hardest on us. “I was wrong—this isn’t a normal job. If it were the norm, one of us would record him trying to get with me. Then Trent would pay another one of us off to either clean up the mess or to keep quiet. After that, we’d be gone, and he’d still be there . Do you know how infuriating it is?” I breathe fire into my lungs. “To walk away with money that’s like pennies to them while they get to just…go on?” I let out a shrill laugh. “The sting of shame fades in time, and they’ve learned nothing .”
They’re both listening, and I can’t tell if I’m speaking to them or to the walls or to a higher power I’ve never believed in before.
But it just pours out of me. “I’ve loved what we do, not for the cash grab, but for the high of the victory. Of the retribution. But the lows are so low because we can never cut deep enough, and I’m…so… angry .” I force out the words. “I’m mad that guys like Trent think they can get away with murder, and maybe they really can. I’m mad about the Alps.” My chin tries to quake. “Because that so easily could’ve been another girl, if not me. And I just keep thinking, that girl wouldn’t have had a Rocky, and…she shouldn’t have to need one.”
I blink past the scalding tears to try to see Rocky, but I can barely make him out clearly through the glassy film. “I shouldn’t have had to need you, but our moms knew in this stupid fucking world, a man is what protects me from another man. I am a thing .” I press my hands angrily to my chest. “To people like him, that’s what I’ll always be.” I blink a few more times, and tears stream down my cheeks.
I wipe them roughly away.
Rocky is close.
He drops to his knees in front of me. While I’m still on the edge of the bed, his hands hover around my elbows. “You burn at the same temperature as me,” he breathes fiercely. “So when you say you’re angry , I fucking know.” His voice is hoarse. “I know.”
He’s been there.
He’s always been there.
Our rage brews together. Visceral, unyielding, controlled fury. Our love is just as volcanic, and there is an undercurrent, a need inside of us, to just explode.
My eyes sear. “Then you know, here, in this town…it’s a chance for us to do more, Rocky. To really make someone pay.”
Trying to help Jake claim the Koning crown—it takes bad people out of power. People who are diseased by it, who should’ve never had it in the first place.
I take a breath, adding, “And what if there’s not another way than to use me? What if he does this to another girl?”
“That doesn’t mean you should be that girl.”
“But I could be the last one,” I say, sounding hopeful. “It could end with me.”
Rocky never shies from me. “Ask yourself, Phebs, what do you really want? I know you can get through this job. I know you can take it—like you always fucking have. But after Carlsbad—”
“I don’t want the Fiddle Game to change anything.” I wince because I know, deep down, it already has.
“It’s okay if it did,” Rocky says. “Really, it should probably change how you look at the job.” He edges forward just a little but doesn’t touch me. “My sister brought you here because she saw how Carlsbad affected you, and you can try to keep running away from it—but it’s here again. In this job.” His gaze grips mine. “You said this is our chance to do more. It’s also our chance to do things our way . Your choice, not theirs. What do you want to do, Phoebe? You. Not me, not them. But you.”
I intake slow, cavernous breaths, and I careen forward, my forehead pressing to his. Lifting his hands to my cheeks, I place them there and hold them against my face.
His large palms encase me. They’re warm. Safety. Devotion.
Power.
He’s breathing harder. “Phoebe.” He’s scared of my answer, but he would do anything for me. He already has.
“If there’s a way where I don’t have to be in that position with him, then I think…I know I’d choose not to be. You take Trent. I take Claudia. I can handle her.”
His hand slides into my hair, clutching. He presses a hot kiss against my lips. It beckons me forward, and when it breaks, it’s not enough.
I want to be wrapped up in him. “Can you hold me?” I ask in a whisper.
He casts a look over his shoulder while he lifts me in his arms. “This has been fun and all, Jake, but you’re going to need to get the fuck out.”
I swear Jake is smiling. “Bye, Phoebe ,” he says pointedly at the door, not offering that same farewell to my real boyfriend.
“Bye, Jake.” I’m entrapped by the man who has me so completely. In every way that matters, I am Rocky’s.