“I’d stop talking if I were you,” I interrupt him. “You’re pissed, and rightly so, but if you think my brother and I would do anything like this”—I gesture around the room—“then you don’t know us at all.”
Anger flows off Brendan in waves. I can almost see it. If Ashley were here, she’d give it a color, I bet. Dark red. Or black, even.
He inhales sharply, appears to hold it, and then exhales.
Silence for a few more seconds, until—
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Donny. I know you wouldn’t do anything like this.”
“Damn right,” I say, “but you have my word. I will find out who did.”
Chapter Thirty
Callie
I stand, shaking, as my brother’s voice booms over the loudspeaker on the football field. “Representing the freshman class on the homecoming court, Diana Steel, escorted by Lawson Jericho.”
Diana Steel, daughter of Talon and Jade Steel, is gorgeous, of course, as are all the Steels. Why am I here again?
Diana wears a pink minidress that accentuates her shapely legs. Her long dark hair is styled in gentle waves that spill over her shoulders and down her back. She looks over her shoulder and smiles at me.
I smile back. I think, anyway. The butterflies in my stomach are turning into hornets, threatening to sting me from the inside out. The zit on my chin throbs as if it has its own heartbeat.
Applause thunders from the stadium. We have a massive turnout for our football games, even though our town is tiny. Our team always does well, so fans from the nearby counties and even from Grand Junction pour out to watch, especially tonight, the homecoming game.
“And representing the sophomore class of Snow Creek High School, my lovely sister Callie Pike, escorted by Jimmy Dawson.”
Jimmy stands next to me, his gaze still trained on Diana’s ass. I feel like a Cabbage Patch doll in my denim skirt and ruffled blouse. Diana’s so sleek and gorgeous, and I’m denim and fluff. Pure country girl. At least my ass is as good as hers, even if my face and boobs can’t compare. Though Jimmy apparently prefers her ass to mine.
I grip Jimmy’s arm as I walk across the fifty-yard line to the center of the field. Every eye from the stadium burns a hole in me, until I realize it must be my imagination. They’re all looking at Diana, not at me.
The applause dies down.
Then Jesse again. “Representing the junior class, my gorgeous cousin Jordan Ramsey, escorted by Pat Lamone.”
Pat Lamone is a jerk. How he got voted onto the homecoming court is beyond me. Of course, how I got voted on is equally beyond me. I’m only sure of one vote. My own. Yeah, I voted for myself. I couldn’t stand the thought of getting no votes at all. The class attendants, except the seniors, are only voted on by their own class, so I know Rory didn’t vote for me. She couldn’t.
Jordan walks toward the center of the field in a yellow sundress that accentuates her curves and blond hair. Definitely prettier than I am, though the star of the show is still Diana Steel.
Until Rory comes out. She’ll outshine Diana.
“And now,” Jesse roars, “the homecoming court. Representing the senior class, Carmen Murphy, escorted by Henry Simpson.”
Carmen, also gorgeous in green that matches her eyes, her auburn mane pulled on top of her head in loose curls, seems to float toward us on the arm of yet another Steel, Henry Simpson. Blond and blue-eyed, Henry is built like a lumberjack and is nearly as pretty as Carmen.
“Laurie Davis, escorted by Stone Huntley.”
Laurie and Stone, more Snow Creek beauty, head toward us.
“And Laney Dooley, escorted by DeShawn Phillips.”
Yet more applause and it becomes increasingly louder, as we all know what’s coming.
“And last but certainly not least, this year’s homecoming queen, another one of my gorgeous sisters… Rory Pike, escorted by Jack Cummings!”
Rory.
My sister eclipses even Diana Steel. Dark-brown hair and warm brown eyes, lush figure wrapped in a peach-colored sheath, her cleavage in full view. I resist the urge to look in judgment at my own nonexistent chest. Instead, I stare straight ahead into the stands, my fake smile plastered on my face.
Remembering that old Sesame Street tune.
“One of these things is not like the others…”
I walk to Rory’s studio during lunch, waving to the student who’s leaving. “Ror!” I call.
She walks into the waiting area. “Hey, sis. You look…glum.”
“Some shit’s going down at work. Someone trashed Brendan Murphy’s place last night.”
“Oh? Wow, I’m sorry. Any news on the Talon Steel case?”
“Not yet. I swear, Donny comes home, and shit totally hits the fan.”
Rory nods. “In more ways than one.”
I know she’s talking about Pat Lamone. “I ran into him this morning.”
Her eyes widen.
“Yeah.” I force out a laugh. “I spilled four cups of hot coffee on him.”
Rory scoffs. “Couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy.”