Thrive (Addicted, #4)(90)

According to Lily, Daisy’s initial plans had been to tube down the Delaware River, but it’s too cold for that, so my father offered his estate instead. It took Rose seven days to convince their mom to let Daisy have a small party with just family and close friends.

“I’m only looking out for her,” I say with edge. Daisy doesn’t know my brother like that. She can’t possibly see how many girls he screws. I don’t think “long-term relationship” is even a word in his vocabulary.

He quickly changes the topic. “You never mentioned that Dad has an indoor pool.” He dunks a fry in barbecue sauce. Ryke usually stays a hundred feet away from this house at all times, hating our dad that much. Even though Ryke is physically here, he won’t make eye contact with Jonathan Hale, who stands by the bar with Greg Calloway.

“He also has a putting green outside, a home theatre, and a spa.” I flash a half-smile.

My biting tone just rolls off his back by now. “Did you swim here a lot?” he asks, prying. Like he wants to make up for lost time.

“When I was a little kid, Lily and I used to sneak down here a bunch of nights,” I say, offering him something.

His hard features darken. “If you say to have sex—”

“We were like…seven.” I scowl. “It was innocent.” We’d dare each other to jump in, all the lights off, the bottom black and murky in the darkness. I’d always end up pushing her in, and she’d scream and try to kick back to me. “One night we woke up the staff, and the butler ended up telling my dad that we’d been swimming.”

“What’d he do?” Ryke asks, his elbows on the table, his focus set on me. Whenever we talk about our dad, it’s always in context with me. His past with our father—it’s like an abyss, a hazy picture that I can’t see. It’s still weird that he’s had conversations with Jonathan Hale where I wasn’t there, talks as a young kid that I know nothing about.

“After he found out?” I say. “He locked the pool.” I toss my crumpled napkin on the table.

“He was worried about you drowning?”

“No,” I say sharply, irritation bearing down on me the longer we discuss this shit. “He asked me if I wanted to swim competitively. I told him no. So he told me that the pool wasn’t a privilege that I’d earned yet.” Before my brother can say anything, I ask, “Was he like that with you?”

“Kind of,” he says vaguely, staring off at the glass walls that overlook a courtyard. Rain beats against the panes.

“How’s your mom?” I prod a bit further.

“I don’t know. Fine, I guess.” He hasn’t talked to her in forever. Not since she leaked Lily’s sex addiction to the press.

“Wow, it’s nice talking to you, big bro. Let’s do this again sometime. I get so much out of it.”

He shoots me a look. Yeah, he’s been there for me many times, more than I can describe. “I don’t talk to my mom, and I sure as fucking hell don’t talk to my dad, so I don’t see what there is to say.”

“Did you ever like Dad?” I ask. “Like growing up?” That’s what I want to know.

“Sure,” he says. “In the beginning.” He chugs his can of Fizz and then nods to me. “Have you heard anything from Scott?”

I’ll take the deflection, only because I do have an opinion on this. “He texted me twice, once to say: I’m in Barbados, bitch. And then another time to send me an actual picture of himself tanning on a damn yacht.” I blocked his number after that. Like I need to be reminded that he’s profiting off of Connor and Rose’s sex tapes.

“Motherfucker,” Ryke mutters under his breath. “I hate that Connor threw out the lawsuit. I tried talking to him about it, and he told me to fuck off.”

I actually laugh.

Ryke extends his arms. “Why is that funny?”

“Because Connor told me that you yelled at him like ‘a Neanderthal trying to debate higher knowledge’—it was funny.”

“Hilarious,” Ryke says dryly. “You can’t honestly agree with him.”

“No way,” I say. “I don’t care if he’s using the publicity to grow his diamond company. Scott is sunbathing on a yacht and swimming in his pools of cash. That sick fuck deserves to be in a prison.”

“Or at least bankrupt,” Ryke says with tense muscles.

Lily squeals, and we both turn our heads to the pool. She’s on Daisy’s shoulders, trying to knock off Rose who sits on Connor’s, playing a game of chicken.

“Get her bikini strap!” Daisy yells.

Lily tries the dirty move, unclipping Rose’s black bathing suit top, but Rose swats her hand away.

“Cheating!” Rose accuses. “I win.”

Connor grins and speaks to her in French.

“Nooo way,” Daisy says with a laugh. “That is so legal.”

Lily is in a one-piece, so Rose can’t retaliate.

“Are we just going to leave Scott Van Wright to him?” Ryke asks me.

“Isn’t that what you’ve always done?” I turn back to my brother.

He nods. “Yeah, I guess it is. We have to choose our battles, don’t we?”

“Yeah.” And Connor wouldn’t want us stepping near that one.