Sweet Retribution (Rydeville High Elite #3)(33)

Elizabeth’s quiet sobs can be heard throughout the ceremony and I bleed for her. My hands rest on top of hers in her lap, while Charlie has one arm wrapped around his mom and another around Lillian. Lil’s eyes are red, and she’s sniffling intermittingly, but she’s holding it together far better than her mother. Charlie is stoic, his face not betraying much emotion, but the strain is evident in the tense shape of his shoulders and the near-constant tick popping in his jaw.

We all breathe a sigh of relief when it’s finally over.

After the burial, at the town cemetery, in the assigned Barron plot, everyone makes their way to the local hotel, where a lavish spread has been set up in the function room upstairs.

“Hey, little sis.” Drew ambles up behind me, pulling me away from a boring conversation with neighbors of the Barron’s that I’m only half listening to. “You doing okay?”

“I’m fine. But I’ll be glad when this is all over.”

Drew glances over his shoulder, his eyes locking on our father and Patrice. They are deep in conversation with the Montgomerys and not paying attention to us. “Come to the bar with me.” Drew steers me away, over to the bar at the top of the room. He orders an old-fashioned for himself and a cranberry juice for me. “I’ve got those lists,” he says under his breath, discreetly removing a small, sealed envelope from his inside jacket pocket.

I slide the envelope into my purse, ensuring no one is looking. “Thanks. I spoke to Chad last night, and he’s in. He’s already rallying the investigative crew.”

“Good. I’ve also tentatively reached out to a few trusted board members. The two men and one woman who remember you fondly from your summer internship. I’ll meet them alone first, throw out a few feelers, and see how they respond. If it’s favorable, then we can both meet with them. These three are the most influential. If we can convince them, they will do most of the legwork for us.”

I smile at an associate of my father’s as he passes by with his new, much younger wife. “I can’t imagine Father is all that popular with the board. He’s not a very likable individual.”

“True, but he has most of these people terrorized, so we still need to proceed with caution.” He sips from his drink, his sharp gaze calculating. “Do you think you could get away Sunday night for a meeting? You’re allowed to see Xavier, right?” I nod. “So, tell Charlie you’re hanging with Xavier and meet us at the warehouse. We’ll use the back entrance and hide our cars in the woods in case he’s tracking you or has someone spying. No one will know we are there.”

I lean into Drew, pressing my mouth to his ear. “Is he well enough to go there?” I whisper, not daring to say any more.

Drew angles his head, moving his mouth to my ear. “He’s doing much better now. He’ll be there. It’s killing him being apart from you.”

My heart races and butterflies swarm my chest at the thought of seeing Kai again.

A hand slides around my waist, and I jump, spilling some of my juice on the counter. “What are you two plotting over here?” Charlie asks, narrowing his eyes at Drew in a way that clearly betrays his suspicion.

My blood pressure shoots sky high at his choice of words and the wary look on his face. My palms are suddenly sweaty, and I subtly wipe them down the front of my conservative black dress. I’m opening my mouth to throw out some frivolous lie, when my twin beats me to it.

“Just the usual.” Drew waggles his brows, sipping his whiskey. “World domination. How to eradicate poverty. How to oust Jeff Bezos from the richest man in the world position, etcetera, etcetera.”

“Don’t be glib,” Charlie drawls. “It doesn’t suit you.”

Drew’s gaze skims the room quickly before he moves in closer to Charlie. “We were discussing your predicament,” he says in a low tone.

“What predicament?” Charlie coolly replies.

“Father promised Atticus he could return to the elite and return to Rydeville. It’s happening next week. From what I hear, your mom isn’t in a good place. How do you plan to keep her quiet? She can’t go mouthing off about Atticus being responsible for your dad’s murder,” Drew says.

I jump on the bandwagon. “And it’s not like you can tell her the truth, so what are you going to do?”

All the blood drains from his face, and in this moment, I almost feel sorry for Charlie.

Almost.

“I don’t know, and I’m wondering why your father didn’t forewarn me about this.”

“He’s been too busy boning his bride-to-be,” Drew deadpans. “But I’m sure he plans to talk to you about it. I’m just giving you a heads-up. You need to have a solution. One that will appease him so he can keep Atticus on board, and one that will keep your mom’s mouth shut.”

“I’ll think of something,” Charlie says, not sounding as confident as he looks.





“What did you say to your mom?” I ask as we make the journey to Chez Manning for Sunday dinner. I’d woken this morning to the sounds of screaming and shouting coming from the vicinity of Elizabeth’s bedroom.

Charlie exhales heavily, dragging a hand through his hair. “I told her Michael had investigated and that Atticus Anderson had not given any order to shoot. That he had specifically warned his men not to fire. I explained how the guard who took the shot did so in error. And that he’s been punished for it.”