Addicted After All (Addicted #3)(44)

My eyes grow in shock.

Connor doesn’t want Ryke to change. Not that much at least.

I don’t think any of us do, but there’s no question that he’s going to have to follow some of my father’s rules. If he doesn’t, I’m afraid it’ll put an irreparable strain on his relationship with Daisy.

And they just have to last.

Raisy is alive. I won’t believe in anything less.





{ 16 }

LOREN HALE



Even on vacation, to a country I love, my dad never lets me forget reality. He emailed me profiles of every Hale Co. board member with their likes and dislikes. He’s trying to give me an advantage over Lily, Ryke and Daisy. I rarely attempt to change people’s perceptions of me, to kiss ass. I’m afraid the minute I step through the Hale Co. glass double doors, they’re going to say, what is this f*cking kid doing here?

He’s an alcoholic.

He was expelled from college.

He’s a loser.

I’m a natural-born failure.

But I don’t want my son to grow up and have these same impressions of me. I want to be known for more than all of that. I just don’t know how. Part of me believes it’s impossible. I can’t move mountains, no matter how hard I push.

Stop thinking, I tell myself. My mind won’t shut off. In the yacht’s cabin, I lie on the bed next to Lily, who’s in a deep sleep. I check the clock: 4 a.m.

Four years ago, I’d go grab a bottle of Jameson. Take more than a few swigs. Call it a night after an hour.

I let out a heavy breath and quietly climb off the bed.

The moon bathes the room in blue, and I see a direct path to the door. I sneak out, gently shutting it behind me. And then I proceed down the hallway, knowing my course and destination.

I stop in front of another cabin, lamp light glowing beneath the door. No hesitation or second-guessing, I just open it.

Ryke leans against the headboard in only sweatpants, a paperback folded in hand. His eyes meet mine with questioning and concern. He’s alone, so I close the door and walk further inside.

“Hey,” he says while I take a seat on a wooden chair that faces his bed.

I’m not surprised that he’s awake. If anyone has a f*cked up internal clock, it’s my older brother. He’ll alternate between 5 a.m. mornings to 5 a.m. nights, depending on who needs his help and if he’s going climbing.

I rest my forearms on my thighs, slightly hunched. My fingers vibrate, and my leg jostles more than I like. I rub my lips, but it’s clear that he sees my anxiety.

I let out another breath and look up at him. He has his arms on his bent knees, and my eyes fall to the paperback, loosely hanging by his fingers, a picture of a bull on the front cover. “What are you reading?”

His eyes flit to the book. “The Sun Also Rises.”

I frown, making out the title from here. “That’s not what it says.”

He tucks the novel away, underneath his pillow. “It’s in Spanish.”

Right. I try to smile but it’s a bitter one. He’s fluent in more languages than I can ever learn. “Is it good?” I ask.

He shrugs. “It’s okay.” He studies my expression for too long, and my gaze drops to my shaking hands.

I breathe out, the strain bursting my lungs. I imagine my non-conformist brother in a suit and tie, pretending to be something he’s not. Entering this bullshit world that he’s purposefully escaped. It’s wrong. And I suddenly say, “I don’t want you to change.” It’s not all selfless. I need him the way that he is.

“You know me,” he says—three words that weren’t true for decades of time. “Do you really think I can f*cking change?”

I never thought he could. “The board will never choose you, you realize that?” I snap, my voice more edged. Remorse twists my face. “Not as you are, I mean.” He curses too much. He’s late to everything, even his own birthday. He shelters his intelligence from every f*cking person—so they just see this aggressive, unfiltered guy. But all of this is why he’s Ryke Meadows and not me, not Connor.

It’s part of why I love him.

“Fuck them, then,” he says. “But I’m still trying.”

He also never gives up.

I’m scared because I always do, in the end. Pitted against each other—I lose. Every time. I put my fingers up to my lips, my palms pressed together. My foot still taps the ground. And I say, “Just give it to me.”

His features darken, and he slides to the edge of the bed, sitting closer to me as his bare feet hit the floor. “No,” he says, one word that tears a f*cking hole inside of me.

“No?” I glare, grinding my teeth. “You don’t even want it.”

“Neither do you,” he refutes. “How many times do I have to f*cking tell you, Lo, that you don’t owe him one f*cking thing?” He points at the door.

I swallow hard. “I’m alive because—”

“Because Dad said yes to keeping you? Decent people don’t use that to blackmail their children. You had no choice in coming into this f*cking world. You should have a choice on what you do with your life afterwards. And he’s taking that away from you.”

I shake my head on impulse, but I catch myself and stop. I rub my eyes with the heels of my palms. He’s taking that choice away from Ryke too.