Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 140742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 704(@200wpm)___ 563(@250wpm)___ 469(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 704(@200wpm)___ 563(@250wpm)___ 469(@300wpm)
I shrug. “I genuinely don’t give a fuck what she says. I have my reasons.”
“I’d drop it. She’s not hiding anything. Not that there’s anything to hide.”
I lower the papers and stare at him. “You still don’t believe someone killed Mallory.”
“No, I don’t.” He takes another sip. “What happened was awful, but I think you need to make peace with it and let it go. For your own sanity.”
I push back the anger that threatens. “She’s my sister.”
Every time I say that, I feel unworthy of the title. I was a shit brother to her. We all know it. I may be a lot of things, but I’m self-aware enough to know that’s the reason I’m seeking justice. I should’ve done more when she was still here. She was younger than me, so we didn’t have the same interests or friends. By the time she got to high school, I was on my way out, and things were so hectic that year, I barely had time to see her.
Still, we kept in touch. When I left, I made sure she knew I was still there for her. Not that she ever needed me. She’d call, though, when she was bored, to tell me about her day and her friends. It was usually a one-sided conversation, but I didn’t mind. Growing up, I had my friends—Ella, Hammie, and a few other guys I’ve lost touch with. Mallory didn’t have that. Her friend group was full of vipers waiting to strike. And still, she must have liked them. Even after she got closer to Olivia and later, Josslyn, she never stopped hanging out with the other girls.
When she started college, I noticed a change in her, but I never thought to question it. It was college and she liked to party; there was nothing wrong with that. She never told me about Onyx, though. I knew she’d been there the night I hooked up with Josslyn, but I’d scrubbed that from my memory. I didn’t know she went there as often as she seemed to. There are a lot of things about my sister that I should have known, and would have known if I’d been paying closer attention. So no, I can’t just “let this go.” I’m going to find out what happened that night. Mallory deserves that much.
“Did you talk to Donnie about the building across from the arena?” I ask, changing the subject.
“He said it’s not for sale.”
I shoot him a look. “Everything is for sale.”
“That’s what I told him,” he says, smirking. “Did you meet with the architect?”
“Not yet, but I need to this week.”
“You’ve said that about your entire to-do list.”
“Because practice starts soon, and only two of the guys have played together in the past.”
“Are you worried about it?”
I nod my response. They’re good, but we haven’t had a chance to hang, outside of meetings, which isn’t ideal. Things flow smoother on the ice when you click with the person skating beside you. We’re going golfing together for charity, and Lachlan suggested a barbecue at his house—as long as Lyla is comfortable and hasn’t given birth by then. They’re just more things on my to-do list, but I can handle it. Josslyn is the only thing on that list that’s making me crazy, and I plan on checking her off very soon.
24
JOSSLYN
The longer I stare at the flowers, the more I begin to question Finn’s motives. I’m not a petty person, so that wasn’t my first, second, or even third thought when I first got them, but now, I don’t know … Did he do it to one-up Tate? He hates him and it’s obvious that he was bothered by the flowers. Deep down, I know they’re probably just apology flowers and I’m reading too much into it, but even that makes my heart flutter, because Finn isn’t the apology type and this … is a lot coming from him.
My heart does a little flip when I think about the way he reacted to seeing me with Tate. I’ve never been with someone fiercely protective of me—and I’m not sure if that’s what this is, or if I’m just a toy he’s possessive over until he gets sick of me—but it feels good to feel wanted by him. I shake the thoughts away. I need to focus on what’s important. I check to make sure I’m signed up for the correct class, Social Work Research II, and exit the school portal. It’ll be my first on-campus course in four years, and even though it’s the last few credits I need to be done with school, I feel like it’ll be my first day all over again. So much so that Olivia and Damian have agreed to go to the mall with me so I can get an outfit for the day class starts. It’s not just that. We also need to pick up Dame’s tux and get dresses for the fundraiser that’s looming—and spinning more out of control by the second.