“I was too rough—”
“You wanted a secret,” she interrupted. “Do you remember the first time we came out here? All four of us. You told me not to smile like them.”
Don’t ever smile when you’re sad. Promise?
I’d snuck away to smoke a joint, because fuck. That day had pulverized my heart into dust.
“Yeah,” I breathed. “I remember.”
“I was the biggest liar that day, Grayson. To Lottie, the reporter, to myself, to you.” She licked her lips. “You want a secret? You were inches away from me, but I missed you like you’d burned a cigarette hole in my heart. I always miss you. I would do anything for you, Grayson. Go anywhere for you. Be anyone. I’m powerless to you.”
“Powerless?” I groaned. Fuck, I don’t know why it fucked me so bad hearing her say those words. Maybe because I was powerless, too. Achingly, distractingly, devastatingly,
and tragically powerless to her.
“I’ve been powerless to you. I only did this because I wanted to give you everything, the way you’ve given me everything.”
I closed my eyes, reining it in. “You’re the reason I have anything.”
“We can’t let Gemma marry West. Grayson…” she trailed off. “If leaving them destitute would have left you miserable, then what would leaving your sister with a monster do?”
“Haven’t you figured it out yet? You come first. You always come first. I don’t care if this entire house is about to collapse and you need a fucking Twinkie. I’m getting you that fucking Twinkie, Snitch.”
She wrapped her arms around my neck. “Haven’t you figured it out, Grayson? I don’t care if you need my entire bloody and beating heart just to walk a little farther. I’ll give it, so you can be happy.”
We stared at each other as the petals fell around us.
“I promised Woodsy you wouldn’t disappear, Snitch. On his deathbed, I promised him. You’re already disappearing.”
“Do you think I would do this if I felt he was a danger to me, or to the baby?”
I pushed a curl out of her face, dragging my knuckles along her cheek so she knew my next words weren’t intended to be hurtful.
“I don’t think you see him clearly at all, Story. He’s the villain in your story but you want to write him as the hero. That’s what makes him so dangerous.”
Her brow furrowed, and she pulled back slightly, mouth opening to speak when a scream broke off whatever she was about to say.
“Oh my God! Lottie!”
“Where is the on-call doctor?”
As planned, across the garden, Lottie had fallen, and everyone ran to see if she was okay. No one would pay attention to Snitch.
It was like ripping off skin, but I stepped away from her.
“There’s a black car waiting for you. Do not get into a Crowne car or a du Lac car. I’ve hired this one specifically for you.”
Story’s eyes burned with our unfinished conversation. “But, Grayson—”
“Go,” I said, turning to Lottie. “They won’t stay distracted forever.”
Forty-Two
STORY
I met my uncle’s lawyer at a small office on Main Street. He had a bunch of papers stacked high on his small desk and looked out of sorts. So much had happened since my uncle’s death, I’d completely forgotten about his estate.
Maybe he’d have answers.