Addicted After All (Addicted #3)(3)

“Yeah, and take it from someone who’s been to these ‘impromptu meetings’—you have to be prepared for anything.” I remember the one where he basically forced my proposal with Lily, right in his office.

I refuse to believe this is worse than that. So maybe that’s why I’m not as freaked by it as Ryke. My brother revived his relationship with our dad—and this is what comes with it. I step into the lion’s den every single time I enter Jonathan Hale’s mansion, and I just f*cking pray that I leave without a deep wound. I pray that I’m strong enough to withstand everything he throws at me. And for the first time, I believe that someone out there, some godforsaken thing or spirit or madman, is listening to a f*ck up like me.

I slow my pace as soon as headlights point in our direction. I raise my hand to shield the fluorescence. Ryke grabs my bicep and guides me towards the curb so we’re not hit in the dark. I’m not surprised when the Escalade brakes beside us. The tinted window rolls down, revealing the driver.

Connor Cobalt, twenty-six, has one hand on the wheel, dressed in a white button-down. His wavy brown hair is perfectly styled like he just returned from a business meeting.

He didn’t, by the way. I know for a fact that he was in a third floor study with Rose, reading or thumbing through a dictionary—whatever they do in their spare time.

He can’t hide his blinding grin, the humor palpable in his gaze as he scrutinizes our lack of wardrobe in the cold winter. Then his deep blue eyes meet my amber ones.

“Soliciting again?” he banters with an arched brow. “How much for a blow job, darling?”

“As much as you’re worth,” I reply, opening the passenger door.

“How about you, Ryke?” Connor asks as my brother climbs into the backseat.

“I’m not for f*cking sale,” Ryke says roughly, slamming his door shut.

I give Connor a look. “It’s been a long night. What were you—reading?”

“Coming, actually,” Connor says, putting the car into gear and driving back towards our house.

“Fucking fantastic,” Ryke groans. “While we were freezing our asses off, chasing these idiots, you were getting off.”

Connor doesn’t even try to restrain his grin. “I’m the all-around winner here. It shouldn’t be surprising to anyone by now.” Neither is his arrogance. I actually smile and point the blowers at my body, the heat expelling.

Connor’s eyes flit to the orange and blue splatters on my ribs and shoulder. Like Ryke, red welts lie beneath the paint. His grin fades. “I don’t see how chasing them while they still had paintball guns was effective.”

“It’s called intimidation,” I tell him.

“You mean stupidity.”

“Yeah? What’s the better option? Calling the police? We’re not doing that, Connor,” I remind him.

“I never said we should. The press would pick up the story, and it’d put more attention on everyone.” He pauses. “You both realize that they could’ve accidentally shot you in the eye?”

“Fucking worth it,” Ryke says, crossing his arms over his chest.

I add, “If you saw the girls, you would’ve wanted us to run after them, paintball guns or not.”

Connor trains his gaze back on the road. “I did see the girls.”

I frown as I scan his features. He’s closed up again, which makes me nervous. “Is Lily okay?” I clench my teeth in fear of the possibility that she may not be. My back stiff and my muscles tense. “Connor—”

“She’s fine.” He suddenly locks the car doors, and his eyes flicker to the rearview mirror, at my older brother in the backseat, who grows more distressed. If Lily’s okay then that means— “Please don’t jump out of the car,” Connor tells him. “I’ve never injured anyone while driving, and I’d like to keep my record clean.”

His nose flares. “What’s wrong with Daisy?”

“She had a small panic attack.”

Christ. I grimace, like knives slicing through my core, and it’s mostly from sensing my brother behind me. I rotate to look back at Ryke. He pinches the bridge of his nose, his eyes tightened shut. I can tell he’s swallowing a scream and restraining himself from punching the back of the seat.

“At least she’s not pregnant,” I throw out there. A silver lining.

Ryke drops his hand and cringes. His brown eyes rise to mine. “I f*cking hate when people torment her.”

I know that now. “But if we move to another neighborhood it’s just going to be the same thing in a different setting.” We bring attention to ourselves wherever we are and that won’t change, not after Lily’s sex addiction was publicized, not after Princesses of Philly, and definitely not after the molestation rumors with my father.

The reality is this: Lily is pregnant. Rose is pregnant. Daisy is hanging onto her sanity. And the media is as caustic as ever—spreading rumors, trying to snap photos of Lily and Rose’s bodies, and harassing Daisy about her relationship with Ryke and his relationship with my girlfriend.

I’m not the smartest one of us. Or the strongest. But I f*cking know everyone has a breaking point. And sometimes I wonder if our limits are going to be tested now that Ryke is with Daisy, now that I’m about to be a father, and Connor will have a child with Rose. These things stretch us further than before.