CHAPTER 43
Riven
Secrets - Omido, Ordell & Rick Jansen
Pacing has become my favorite thing to do over the last twenty-four hours.
I can't think straight.
What the fuck does that mean, they reopened Kyle's case? It wasn't an accident? They were targeting me? For what? To hurt Kyle? But why? And how?
How could they have known I'd break a glass, my father would slap me, and I'd run away? How could they have fucking known?
I keep replaying that whole night in my head, but everything is blurry—the sounds, the surroundings.
It was eleven years ago.
I can't remember every detail, of course I can't fucking remember the most traumatic night of my life.
I brace myself against the steel beam in my loft, my knuckles pressing against my temple in frustration.
“Remember!” I shout at myself. At my own fucking brain.
I breathe heavily and slide down to my knees.
Did they have someone on the inside? Were my parents involved? Did they put cameras in the penthouse?
My eyes widen.
They could have.
“Fuck!” I slam my fist against the asphalt floor over and over.
The Lower Layers.
What was Kyle doing there? What could an eighteen-year-old possibly have been doing in the Lower Layers? Was he being blackmailed for money? Was he buying drugs?
Everything is possible now.
I need to find who did it. I need to find out what happened to my brother, and what he was doing.
But how? How the hell am I supposed to do that?
I push myself back to my feet and start pacing again.
I keep walking in circles around the kitchen island and the couch.
An endless loop.
Then it hits me.
Evren.
Evren is a gang leader, he might know something but just the thought of seeing him again makes me want to pluck my own eyes out.
Or touch myself.
Two weeks later, and I still don't know what the fuck I'm supposed to feel—or do—about that man.
I either need therapy or someone to punch me in the face first so I can finally let all this shit out.
I'm so frustrated with myself, I might explode over something as stupid as a sock that doesn't want to be picked up.
I grab my comm, my thumb hovering over the unknown number—Evren's number.
Calling him would be weird, texting him would be even worse.
What would I say ‘Hey it’s the girl you almost killed a man for, and told you to get the fuck out but I need you to find what happened to my brother, let’s meet!’
That would be completely fucked up and he would absolutely love it.
Scratch that.
I start pacing again, rubbing my face in frustration.
‘Hey, Evren. It's Troublemaker.’
Scratch that shit.
That gives me the fucking heebie-jeebies, I shake my whole body in disgust.
Fuck, how the hell am I supposed to make him come to me without going to him directly?
I freeze when I realize—the hacker.
I have one damn thing that could work, one thing that'd force him to answer me.
Though he'd probably either kill me or...
Kill me.
I stalk over to my computer, swipe up to wake my floating screens, and dig through my files.
The shipment.
The shipment I wanted to steal as revenge.
I could actually use it as a bargaining chip to make him come to me.
I check the date, it's tonight, it’s 8pm, and it comes at 2am.
I can't do that alone, I'm a fucking disaster.
Charlie and Jules would probably love it.
I text our group.
Well...That was fast.
Am I surprised? Yes. Shocked? No.
This is the best I've got for now.
I'm too stubborn to text him first when I'm the one who told him to go away.
Surprisingly, he did. He respected it.
I might even be touched that he actually left me alone.
But now I need his knowledge and his contacts in the Lower Layers.
If there's one person who can help me with this, it's him.
Assuming he doesn't murder me or decide I'll be sleeping with him for the next decade.
He might be over it, over me.
Two weeks is long enough for someone to think about their obsession and let it go.
If that's the case, good, I won't have to deal with his shit anymore.
So why does the thought of him being over me make me want to go back to that night and never tell him to get out?