“It’s just mean girl shit. I put her in check tonight, so she won’t be a problem,” Holden says dismissively.
I rake a hand through my hair, nodding. It makes sense, but something tells me that there’s more to it.
“What’s up with you two? You suddenly give a shit again?” This comes from Christian. I can’t say I blame him for not understanding when I can’t make sense of it myself.
Before I can answer, Shayne clears her throat, standing in the doorway. Her wet hair falls over one shoulder, my t-shirt hanging almost down to her knees, giving her the illusion of being naked underneath.
“Hey.” She gives an awkward wave.
Holden pats the cushion next to him. “Come sit, baby sister.”
She cuts him a look, but doesn’t comment as she pads across the room, arms folded over her chest, still distrustful. I can tell that being here again makes her uncomfortable by her body language alone. She takes a seat on the opposite side of the couch, leaving a healthy distance between her and Holden, taking up as little space as possible.
“Why am I here?”
“That’s what I’d like to know,” Christian says.
&nb
sp; “Bro, what the fuck,” Holden chimes in.
“No, it’s fine. He’s the only one who’s making any sense to me,” Shayne says.
“You want answers. So do we.”
“So let’s get this shit out on the table then,” Holden suggests, slouching back against the couch and kicking his feet up onto the table in front of him.
“Okay,” Shayne drawls, skepticism lacing her tone as she looks at me. “Why did you tell Holden to get close to me?”
I glare at Holden and his big ass mouth.
“First of all, I never faked it with you,” he says, tossing her a wink, and Shayne blinks, unamused before she stands like she’s going to leave.
“All right, hold up,” he says, blowing out a breath, looking at me. I nod, giving him silent permission to be real with her. It’s been a year, and we still don’t have answers. Our way isn’t working. Might as well try a different tactic.
“A few months ago, we started looking into the day that Danny…” he trails off, still not able to say the words, and clears his throat before he looks up at the ceiling, his head leaning on the back of the couch, knees bouncing. “Something didn’t feel right. We’ve fucked around in these woods and up at the falls our whole lives. There’s no way he fell. And he sure as fuck didn’t kill himself.”
“Even if he wanted to take his life, he wouldn’t do it there,” I point out. “How many times have we all jumped off that cliff? It’s not a deadly fall.” It can be, but it’s far from a sure thing. We’ve jumped off that same cliff since we were twelve. If I were going to take myself out, it would be foolproof.
Shayne nods, her eyes shining with empathy that almost fucking hurts to look at.
“So we start digging into it, right?” Holden says, lifting his head to look at her. “Tried to find the nine-one-one-call. The police report…something. But we don’t get anywhere. Shit’s locked up tighter than Fort Knox.”
Her lips tug into a frown, her eyebrows pinching together. “I thought emergency calls were public record.”
“They’re supposed to be,” I say, impressed that she knew that, but not altogether surprised. “Someone’s going out of their way to make sure it’s sealed.”
“That’s…”
“Suspicious as fuck?” Holden offers.
“Yeah.” She nods her head slowly, seeming slightly dazed by the information. “Is this related to the cops who were looking for you?” she asks, looking over at Holden.
He nods. “We aren’t allowed to get a copy of the police report because it’s supposedly ongoing, but the detective hasn’t done shit. I bashed the fuck out of his car with a baseball bat. Not my finest moment.”
Fucking dumbass.
“Wait, you didn’t have a bat when I picked you up.”