Addicted After All (Addicted #3)(149)

“Lil?” I whisper, watching her cross her ankles with anxiety. She’s not doing well. I put two fingers in her waistband and pull her to my chest.

She shuffles forward and sniffs loudly.

My ribs bind around my lungs. And I lift the furry white cap higher on her head. Lil’s green eyes well with tears, her delicate, round face as splotched as our son’s.

“I disappeared there for a moment, didn’t I?” I realize. She must’ve heard us banging into the walls. They could’ve been armed. Lily Calloway’s imagination f*cks with her on a daily basis, and I bet it constructed a pretty devastating end.

She wipes her nose with her arm.

If I provoked them longer, I think they would’ve tried to jump on me, to shove me down the stairs. But they were more scared of me than I was of them. I didn’t feed their hate with my own. I just let it rest.

“Don’t do that again, okay?” Her chin quakes.

“Love,” I breathe, my heart aching. I hug her closer, melding her small, wiry frame to my body. And my lips brush her ear. “You and me.”

She chokes on a laugh. “Lily and Lo.”

My chest swells. “We’re going to make it in the end.” I smile wide because I can see it now. God, I can see it.

It’s closer than I ever realized.



* * *



After the police write down our statements, a few of them scour our house for any signs of the other four who escaped. I think they all ran down the street, to their homes. And I have more than a gut-feeling the cops will knock on their door within the hour.

The redheaded guy, Nathan Patrick, ratted out every single friend that was here tonight. The names burn in my brain as I sweep glass off the kitchen floor, a couple flower vases shattered.

Dillon, Kyle, John, and Hunter.

“What was that guy in the hoodie’s name?” Lily asks me at the bar counter, her laptop open in front of her. I briefly mentioned that the guy wasn’t here tonight.

“Garrison.” I brush the glass into a dustpan and instinctively check on Moffy by the fridge. He’s quietly awake in his bouncer beside Jane, both entranced by dangling mobiles. Hers: stars and planets, a solar system. His: lightning bolts and stuffed superheroes like Wolverine.

I smile as he focuses on the red Spider-Man. Even though my kid has the cards stacked against him with addicts as parents, I think he’s going to turn out all right.

“Do you think he planned to come tonight?” Lily asks me.

“No clue.” I dump the glass in the black trash bag and check my cell for missed calls. None. I’ve called Ryke about five times, and he texted back: I’ll call you in a second. It’s been an hour. I pick a green wrapped present off the ground, the box smashed.

I open it and inspect the damage.

The wooden picture frame is bent, a fissure running along the glass. I carefully slip out the photo that I framed for my brother. One of the few we really have that’s ours, not taken by paparazzi. From this summer, we’re sitting on the edge of the pool outside. Daisy called our names, and we turned our heads the same time she snapped the photo.

Even caught off guard, we look happy. It’s in our eyes, in our fleeting, rare smiles. We even look like brothers.

“Did you pick one out yet?” Rose’s voice cuts into my thoughts. I put the picture in a drawer and chuck the rest of the broken present.

“I like the dark gray leather since the cream suede gets dirty,” Lily says.

Rose hovers over her sister’s shoulder, peering at the laptop screen. “It’s ugly.”

“It’s a couch,” I tell her. “It’s not fine China.”

“It still has to match,” Rose retorts. “What’s your second choice, Lily?”

Lily bites her nails and shifts on the stool. My muscles tense as I walk around the bar counter, and I notice she has her heel pressed up against her crotch. At least she’s not in an ice cold tub, crying. In our f*cked up world, she’s doing pretty good tonight, all things considered.

I can tell that this is our forever. Lily won’t ever be one-hundred percent. I won’t either. But these small bumps are easier than any brick walls we’ve faced.

“This one,” Lily says and squints at the screen. “…the beige tufted sofa.”

“Can we have it shipped tomorrow morning?” Rose asks and unsurprisingly slides the computer in front of herself, typing away as she discovers these details. We all wanted to piece back our house as much as possible for Daisy.

And Rose has been pouring her energy into these preparations since Daisy hasn’t returned her calls either.

Screw it.

I’m not waiting for another hour. I dial my brother’s number for the sixth time and press it against my ear. On nearly the last ring, the line clicks.

“Hey, I’m f*cking sorry. I’ve just been…” He takes a deep breath like he’s expelling the night. “Are you okay? Is everyone—”

“We’re all fine.” The minute I say the words, Rose lets out a surprised gasp.

“You got ahold of them? Put it on speaker.”

I shoot her a look. “No please?”

“Loren,” she snaps.

I talk to Ryke in the receiver, “Queen Rose wants to be on speaker.”