Rebel (Wolfes of Manhattan 1)
Issues? Of course she had issues. Our esteemed father had violated her for God knew how long. Did Reid seriously not know that had happened?
“Then we should get her help,” I said.
“We’ve tried. Dad tried while he was alive.”
“Dad? Dad’s the reason she’s fucked up!”
“I know he wasn’t the most attentive father in the world, but—”
“Attentive? He was a little too attentive to Riley.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Oh my God. You really don’t know. Did you and Roy just close your eyes to everything going on in that godforsaken house?”
“You’re one to talk. You weren’t even there once you turned fourteen. Roy and I kept to ourselves. We sure as hell didn’t want to be shipped off to military school.”
Man. My brothers didn’t have a clue. “Military school wasn’t my choice.”
“Of course it wasn’t. You were a pain in the ass, Rock. Mom and Dad couldn’t handle you.”
“That’s what they told you, huh?”
“It wasn’t hard to believe. You were…”
“I was what, Reid? How much do you even remember? You were nine when I left, and Roy was eleven. Roy spent all his time in his room anyway. What exactly do you remember about how I acted before I left?”
“You were…you know. Boisterous.”
“So were you, as I recall.”
“You came in late. You missed curfew.”
“Uh-huh. It might surprise you to know that most kids don’t get sent to military school for missing curfew.”
“I guess… I guess I was too young to remember.”
“Exactly. And Roy doesn’t remember because he didn’t pay much attention to the rest of us. What exactly did Mom and Dad tell you about why I was sent away?”
“They said you were caught stealing, and that…”
I resisted the urge to grab my brother’s shoulders and shake him. “That what?”
“You got into a fight and nearly killed another guy. With a knife.”
I curled my hands into fists. “Those assholes.”
“You’re saying you didn’t pull a knife on someone?”
“I’m saying I never did what they told you I did.”
“They lied?”
“Hard to believe, isn’t it?” I scoffed sarcastically.
“I know Dad was no saint, but—”
“Dad was an evil piece of shit,” I said.
“Why did they send you away, then?” Reid asked.
“That’s not my story to tell,” I said.
“Whose is it, then?”
I didn’t respond. Instead, “Suffice it to say that while you and Roy got pampered at prep school, I got the shit kicked out of me by wannabe heroes who liked to pummel the students to make themselves feel better for being military school failures.”
That was the first year. After that, I took part in the pummeling. Not my finest moments.
“First of all, we weren’t exactly pampered. Roy had it especially hard. He was a huge target for bullies.”
“A Wolfe heir was a target at a fine prep school?”
“You really think being a Wolfe meant anything there? They were all from powerful families. The first-year hazing was brutal.”
I shook my head. I could tell him horror stories about hazing at military school, but I didn’t particularly want to relive it at the moment.
“But I’m sor—”
I held up a hand. “Don’t. Just don’t. It’s over, and I try not to think about it.”
Reid nodded. “I get it. I do. Don’t worry about Riley. She’ll turn up when she’s ready. I hate to see her fuck up her career like this, though.”
“Yeah, I do too.” I sighed. “I still think we should look for her.”
“We’re using our resources in the best way,” my brother said. “If these PIs can’t find her, she doesn’t want to be found. Go ahead on your trip. There’s nothing else we can do here. I wish there were, but there isn’t.”
I nodded. I still felt shitty about leaving, but the reality was that I hadn’t had a clue the two other times my baby sister had gone missing. I’d divorced myself from this family long ago—something I deeply regretted now. I had reason to hate my parents, but my brothers and sister had done nothing wrong.
I owed them my loyalty. I’d go to Montana with Lacey as I’d promised.
Then I’d leave my beautiful home behind for the last time.40LaceyThe Wolfe private jet was even more luxurious than I’d imagined.
And yes, there was a bed.
Rock, though, was oddly distant. He hadn’t mentioned the bed, or joining the mile high club, which, from the little I knew about him, seemed out of character.
I sipped Champagne from a crystal flute and ate strawberries dipped in chocolate.
Rock sat next to me, his drink sitting on the table in front of us, and he hadn’t touched the fruit.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“I’m good. Just a lot on my mind.”
“Anything I can help with?”
He smiled. “No. I want to have a nice weekend with you.”
“I’d like that too.” I returned his smile and took another sip of Champagne. “This is delicious.”
“Only the best for the Wolfes,” he said, a little sardonically.