Thrive (Addicted, #4)(54)

Ryke clenches the side of the chair like he’s restraining himself from not standing up and storming the runway. I imagine him walking backwards as he talks to her, desperately trying to convince my sister to do something she loves and not what our mom tells her to.

Modeling has never been her passion.

Even if she’s great at it.

Instead, Daisy keeps her course, staying as professional as she can.

“You can’t force her to quit,” I remind him in a soft whisper. “Her job means something to our mom.”

“She hates it,” Ryke says back to me. “Can’t you fucking see that?”

“We’re supposed to do things we don’t like sometimes,” I say, thinking about the reality show, my impending June wedding.

“What for?” Ryke asks.

“Our family.”

Maybe one day he’ll realize how far we’re all willing to go. For the people we love most.





{ 22 }

0 years : 07 months

March





LOREN HALE


“I’m not asking you to help me.” Snow falls on the back patio of my dad’s mansion. In a wealthy Philadelphia suburb. I brace the cold with him, heaters blazing from silver machines. We both drink coffee. Only difference: his has Irish liqueur.

“You don’t have to ask,” he reminds me, sitting back on an Adirondack chair. “I’m your father—it’s in my job description to help you.” Before I refute with I’m not struggling or where were you when I was drowning in alcohol and needed rehab, he adds, “You’ll understand when you have kids.”

I clench my teeth. No matter how many times I tell him that I won’t ever have children, he just doesn’t hear it. “I guess I won’t ever understand then,” I snap.

He sips his coffee, watching me closely while I stare out at the frozen duck pond. The grass is blanketed in snow, all white. “Ryke says that I shouldn’t go after Scott.”

“Is Scott attacking Ryke?”

“Not really.”

“Then he has no fucking say in it.” He scowls, his face unshaven. He looks more like Ryke right now, but I won’t tell him that. Their relationship is still fractured, maybe even beyond repair.

“Yesterday,” I say, “Scott handed Lily a script that told her to hump a pillow.” It hurts to breathe fully, emotions barreling into me.

“Who does that?”

“Men will do anything for money, Loren. He’s just trying to profit off the two of you, and so far, he’s doing well.” Right, the show is a success.

My stomach tightens. “Yeah?” I lean forward, my arms on my legs, cupping the mug between my hands. I’m scared of Scott Van Wright.

I’m terrified of how far he’ll push us.

I try to bottle this fear, smothering it so low that I can’t feel an ounce of it. I didn’t come here to plead for my father’s help. I don’t want him involved. I just needed to hear someone agree with me.

“Hey,” he says forcefully.

I turn my head to meet his hard gaze.

“Don’t let any motherfucker come into your life and destroy what belongs to you. Not your women, not your home, not your money or your career. You protect all of that, you hear me?” He sets a firm hand on my shoulder. He may offer backwards advice for me, but he’s always been there.

That’s more than any mother of mine can say.

“I only have one woman,”

I tell him with the raise of my brows.

“Don’t be a smartass.”

I digest all of his words, even if I shouldn’t. “I never wanted to attack someone again.” But I know I’m going to have to. I admit this to him, of all people. Not Connor, not Ryke or Lily.

“If you don’t want to ruin the reality show, like you told me, then you’ve got to do something to him.

He’ll bulldoze you, son. And if you won’t stick your fucking neck out, I will. I don’t want him near Lily.

She’s like a daughter to me.” He takes a large gulp of his coffee.

It’s like there’s a war inside my body with no signs of surrender. I attack Scott, I feel like shit. I do nothing, I feel like shit.

What the fuck is left for me?

“Don’t help me,” I suddenly say to my dad. “I need to do this on my own.”

He nods. “Just make sure you fucking hit him where it hurts most.”

I don’t even know where that is.

The worst part about being the underdog: I never win until the last minute. So I dig and claw and scrape, struggling in hope that in the final act, I’ll rise above.

But what happens if I never do?





{ 23 }

0 years : 07 months

March





LILY CALLOWAY


The middle of the afternoon in the middle of the week has to be the most depressing time. Stuck directly in the center where no one wants it. Lonely. When the house has emptied. People at work. People at lunch. No one here. Not with me at least.

I’m A. L. O. N. E.

Even the cameramen have all but scattered.

Right now would be the moment I’d beat myself up over procrastinating on schoolwork. But I finished my online assignments two hours ago.