Chasing River (Burying Water 3)
Page 57
“It’s nothing. I tripped on my way to the bathroom at night, did a face plant into the wall,” I lie, and then quickly try to push the conversation. “How are things back home? What have you been up to?”
“I’m fine. It’s been fine . . . good . . .”
Now it’s my turn to frown. She doesn’t sound like her normal, chipper self.
With a heavy sigh, she asks, “You know Jesse’s friend Luke, right?”
“Uh . . . yeah.” Troublemaker or not, he’s hard for anyone to forget. The first time I saw him walking into Roadside, with his gold watch and his expensive clothes and model-pretty face, he had my attention. I frown. “Why?” Alex and I have never really talked about Luke before.
“He was just here, checking up on the latest car. Brought a girl with him, who seems nice. But . . .” She rolls her eyes. “He was driving a brand-new Porsche.”
“Oh yeah? Those are expensive. Did he win it or something?” I ask casually, the wheels in my mind churning.
“No, Amber . . . You know he didn’t win anything.” She shakes her head with some unspoken thought. “Luke’s a good guy, with a good heart . . . who can be easily swayed by money. He doesn’t always make the smartest decisions. I’m really worried about what his uncle may have gotten him into.”
I know that the two of them have a close connection. Luke has popped in and out to the ranch a few times, shared a few beers with us, but he never stays long. It’s like his city-boy style can’t handle country for too long. But every time he’s visited, he’s never left without giving Alex a fierce hug.
Oddly enough, this conversation may help lead me in the direction I was hoping for when I dialed Alex’s number. “Do you think Luke and his uncle are doing something illegal?”
“I know they are,” she mutters, pushing her hair off her face, revealing the long, thin scar that normally hides behind a curtain of blond locks. “It has something to do with cars.”
This instantly raises red flags for me, my tendency to be suspicious of my brother impossible to ignore. “Like the cars that Jesse’s been fixing up for Luke, that he swore up and down were bought legitimately? Alex, he can’t be bringing that sort of thing right to my parents’ doorstep. It could—”
“Jesse’s not involved in what Rust and Luke are doing, Amber. Trust me.” She always defends my brother. Then again, if there’s anyone who knows him, and whom he trusts to tell the absolute truth to, it’s Alex. For a girl who’s been through so much, you’d think she wouldn’t want anything to do with a guy with his history, and yet it doesn’t seem to bother her at all.
“That’s not going to matter to the Sheriff. If he finds out, he’s going to ban Luke from setting foot on the property. You do realize that, right?”
Her mouth twists. “He already knows. Or suspects, at least.”
My mouth drops open. My dad and Luke have actually stood in the garage together, drinking beer and laughing! “What are you saying? That he’s turning a blind eye to it?” No, that’s just not possible.
Alex shrugs. “He has a soft spot for Luke. We all do. Luke is one of the reasons I’m alive right now—you know that.”
“I know a bit about that, but I don’t know the specifics.” Not enough to endear Luke to me as he obviously has endeared himself to others.
She bites the inside of her lip. “He put himself in a lot of danger to make sure Jesse found me.”
“Wait a minute . . .” I frown. “I thought my dad found you.”
She simply stares at me. I’ve seen that look before. It means she slipped and said something that she didn’t mean to say.
“Alex . . .”
A burst of male laughter—Rowen’s—suddenly carries up the stairs and through my closed bedroom door. I find myself wanting to go down there and see what they’re laughing about. Somehow I’ve temporarily forgotten why they’re hiding in my house in the first place.
Her brow spikes in surprise. She heard him. “So . . . how’s Dublin?” Her voice, heavily laced with worry just moment ago, suddenly lightens to an almost playful tone. She’s using this as an excuse to steer the conversation away from my father.
As much as I want to steer it right back, badgering her isn’t going to work. Maybe it’s time I give her a reason to divulge her own secrets by sharing mine.
“It’s definitely an experience,” I begin. “I met up with Ivy.”
The first burst of excitement fills her face. “Really? How did it go?”
“Strangely . . . good. She’s alright.” More than alright, in fact.
“I told you.” A pause. “So what have you been up to? Made any friends?”
I fall back in my bed with a groan. Where do I begin? I’m so conflicted right now. When I get off this call, I’m going to head downstairs and . . . what? Pretend that everything is okay? Pretend that none of this matters? Kick River out and tell him to stay away from me? None of those scenarios sits quite right.
Alex’s voice floats into my bedroom. “Amber? Where did you go?”
I groan, reaching for my iPad, holding it above me. “I’m right here . . . confused. I don’t know what to do.”
Finally I see that patient, confident smile of hers. “Yes, you do. You always make smart decisions.”
“Not this time, Alex.” Our eyes meet and I know she sees my inner turmoil. “Where’s Jesse?”
“In town.”
I swallow. “I need to talk to you. Tell you stuff that you can’t tell anyone else. Not even Jesse, Alex. I mean it.”
“Okay.”
“I mean it.”
Her annoyed glare reassures me. “You know you can trust me.”
I know I can. If anyone respects keeping a secret, it’s Alex. Her entire life is one big secret.
Here I go . . . “So, you remember that bombing in the news recently? With the American girl who barely survived?”
Her jaw drops.
And she listens quietly, while I recount everything that’s happened over the past seven days. Everything.
By the time I’m done, Alex is curled up in her desk chair, her legs pulled against her chest, her fingers weaving into the back of her hair in that worried way of hers. “Wow. That’s . . . You’ve been busy,” she finally murmurs. “Are you safe?”
“Yeah. I mean, I think so. River would never hurt me.” This older brother of his, on the other hand . . . But he doesn’t know me and I never saw him, so I can’t imagine I’m much of a threat.
“This doesn’t sound like a fling with a bartender.”
I shrug. “I’ve known him for all of a week. And he lives in Ireland. And he’s a convicted felon. It can’t be anything else.”
And yet my heart is telling me it’s everything else.
Alex smiles softly, her eyes drifting off somewhere into the past. “Sometimes it can be.”
“Not for me, Alex. I’m not that girl. I don’t fall for a guy I just met, and I don’t let my emotions make decisions for me that my head knows are bad. It’s just . . . it’s weak! I’m better than that.”