Cricket
“Sutton, hi!” Indigo squealed as we walked into The Goldfinch to find Sutton DeVries waiting for us at the elevator to the penthouse instead of Astrid.
“I haven’t seen you in forever! We really need to start a Wicked Sisterhood group chat or something so we don’t go this long without talking.
Where have you been?” Indigo’s breathless speech and enthusiastic hand gestures took Sutton off guard for a mere moment before she allowed Indi to link arms with her as they walked into the elevator.
Lennon, eyes sparkling with either anger or mischief…
or both, was texting someone. She was so distracted that she missed Indigo taking a small sheet of paper from the pocket of her jeans and pressing a holographic heart-shaped sticker to the “P” button in the elevator.
When Indigo noticed me watching her with a curious expression, she shrugged sheepishly. “Gotta get ’em coming and going, you know what I mean?” I did not. However, I’d learned that unless bodily harm was imminent, it was best to just go with the flow where Indigo was concerned.
“Wise, love,” I said with a small smile. My eyes were tugged, against my will, from my adopted sister and toward the girl I’d lost once upon a time. Or thrown away. It depended on how you looked at it, really.
Based on the dismissive look on Sutton’s face as we exited the elevator and disarmed at the door, I knew which way she still looked at it.
She spoke in Russian, the words flowing from her lips like she’d grown up speaking them, when I knew for a fact she had not.
The sound was surprisingly hot even though I had no bloody clue what she was saying.
We were allowed into the penthouse where Riordan, Ivan, and his parents were waiting.
We’d met with our new allies several times since creating our formal alliance, and Mikhail and Duke had come to an arrangement regarding our responsibilities.
Tonight, MC business was on the back burner.
Tonight was a little more…delicate in nature.
Tonight was the night Indigo said her final fuck yous to Callahan before he was sent to hell where he belonged.
Indigo spoke animatedly with her family, telling them some charmingly deranged tale from her travels, no doubt.
Ivan and Lennon stood off to one side of the room, speaking quietly but with more than a measure of intensity.
I had an idea of what the two might be up to but didn’t want to interfere with the way Lennon’s plans played out.
It would be more entertaining for me that way.
I walked, more confidently than I felt, toward the bar by the kitchen.
Sutton was there, being served a glass of wine from a server, which she sipped as she studiously ignored me.
My heart ached a bit, a sensation I hadn’t felt in a very long time, and my hand instinctually rose to the center of my chest to press on my sternum before I could stop it.
Honey-brown eyes that used to warm when they met mine were currently cast toward the window, gazing out at the desert landscape. I decided to try to break the ice.
“Hello again, Sutton. You’re looking lovely this evening.” I gave her my most winning smile, dimples and all. Sutton’s eyes assessed me cooly as she took a sip of her wine. “Wren. I see some things never change.”
I lifted an eyebrow. “If you mean my timeless beauty, love, I’d have to agree.” Sutton, who’d always been one to enjoy bantering with me, didn’t play along like I hoped she would. Instead, she gave me bored eyes and a tight, polite smile.
Sutton turned as if to leave, to escape the awkward tension I’d created, when I reached out to touch her free hand.
My fingers clasped around her wrist, causing her to jump slightly as if she’d been shocked.
I dropped her hand, not wanting to cause a scene or catch the attention of the others. This was between us.
“You never came back,” I said quietly to Sutton’s back. Her head was turned in profile, her shoulder-length hair acting as a curtain between us and the rest of the room. The expression on her face was mournful and angry as her eyes met mine.
“You of all people should know that I had absolutely nothing to come back for.” Her words, soft but cutting nonetheless, hung between us.
Letting out a sigh, I nodded. Not because she was right.
There was something here for her, in Sagebrush, ever since the day we’d partnered up in English class our senior year of high school.
I nodded because I knew she really believed what she was saying.
Sutton believed not one single person in Sagebrush cared she existed.
And that was entirely my fault.