Shelley.
Galverson.
Fucking everyone.
Even Tray’s dad, but that was Tray’s business. His to handle.
A little shaky, I brushed my teeth and went back to the library a little later when my stomach was calmer.
Tray just looked exhausted.
“You okay?” he asked quietly.
I saw the concern written all over his face and a small part of my world felt right.
“I’ll be okay,” I promised.
“You’re handling it better than I thought.”
“I’ve got nothing left inside of me. I’m done crying and I refuse to be a dry-heaver.” I joked, half-assed as I stood in front of the window.
“I’m sorry I had to be the one to tell you that.”
“Makes sense,” I said. And it did. It all made sense now. Everything. It all ran in one big circle, all circulating around the addiction of drugs.
“You can’t go home, you know.”
“I know.”
“If you do, you can’t go off on your parents.”
“I know.” I wanted to. I really, really wanted to. I was a fucking deal. I meant next to nothing to them. “So what else did you figure out?”
“Jace wanted you out of Pedlam because of the drugs that he and Galverson would have shipping through, from Broozer’s business. He knew you’d find out and you wouldn’t stand for it. So he arranged for your adoption to get you out of Pedlam.”
It was the only thing that could’ve done it. Jace knew that.
“The plans to remodel the school had gotten approved last fall in a town meeting. That means that either the committee chair is involved or the mayor’s fucking involved. Jace was busy. He must own the police force too, to get the river runs flagged through or at least not checked ever. And that second warehouse, it’s right smack in the middle of some property that my dad bought six years ago. The warehouse, by default, is owned by my dad.”
“Guess your dad’s not as inactive in South America as you thought.”
Tray looked like he could murder someone. In that moment, that second, I really believed he could’ve.
“That means I own the building.”
I heard it in his voice.
I heard his decision made and I looked back, my breath captive in my throat as I searched his eyes. Trying to figure out what he was really thinking.
“What are you going to do?” I asked hoarsely, not really wanting to know.
Tray grinned. It was a bitter, hardened grin. And it made me want him. In that second I could’ve taken him down, because I was finding that his ruthlessness was a turn-on for me.
“I’m going to foreclose on some of my properties.”
“That’ll tip ‘em off.”
“No. I’m going to have it done when we have everything we need and we can’t be touched. That’s when I’ll sic my lawyers on ‘em.”