It’s my turn to throw Colt the bird.
“You know… you might just be next, Colt. Who is to say The Society isn’t writing a black letter to you as we speak? For all we know, they could be setting you up to ambush the woman who will end up stealing that cold heart of yours,” I tease.
“Doubtful,” he proclaims, bored, but I don’t miss how he discreetly takes a peek over at Kennedy.
Shit. He’s been acting more careless about his affection recently. If Lincoln sees this shit, it will ruin him.
“You think The Society is done with you and Scarlett?” Finn asks, looking relieved.
“If their last letter is any indication, then yes. Whatever they wanted out of Easton, they must have gotten it.” Lincoln runs his fingers over his chin deep in thought.
I wish I were as confident as Lincoln seems to be. The idea that The Society might come for Scarlett or me again has me spiraling.
“Hey, you boys want to quit your gossiping and have a little game of touch football out back?” Kennedy asks, jumping excitedly in our direction. “What do you say? Girls versus boys.”
“Not really fair since there are four of us and only three of you,” Finn jokes, pulling Stone into his lap.
“Oh, please. You guys are going to have Colt on your team. Have you ever seen him get his hands dirty once in his life?” Kennedy chastises playfully.
“I’ll show you dirty,” he mumbles under his breath, but not low enough for us to miss it.
“Your search history doesn’t count,” Kennedy goads, playing off his innuendo as a joke.
“You know what? I’m up for a game. I ate so much that some exercise will do me some good,” Finn says.
“You heard the man. Let’s get our game on before he changes his mind and starts fooling around with Stone instead. Everyone here needs a little break from having to hear you two fuck like bunnies upstairs.”
“Fuck off,” he laughs at me, a hint of a blush hitting his cheeks.
He’s just too easy to embarrass.
“What are we doing?” I hear Scarlett’s sweet voice behind me.
I turn around and grab hold of her waist, finally understanding why Finn can’t keep his hands off his girl.
“We’re just going outside to play some ball.”
“That sounds like fun, but I won’t be able to stay for long. I got a message saying I have to work tonight.”
“Ooh, can we come? I’ve never been to The Brass Guild, and I would love to hear you sing.” Kennedy claps, overly excited.
“I guess so.”
“Wait,” I maul my lower lip. “How do you know about The Brass Guild?”
“Stone told me,” Ken replies with a shrug.
“Did she, now? You should watch your girl there, Finn. She doesn’t seem like someone who knows how to keep a secret,” Colt insinuates at what we were all thinking.
Stone just flips her blue-tipped raven hair at the same time she flips off Colt.
“I’ll take you, Ryland. We’ll make a night of it.” Lincoln winks at her.
“Yay!” She claps excitedly and runs to him, wrapping her arms around his neck.
Everyone sees how they reluctantly pull apart after that spontaneous hug, both wearing bedroom eyes in their longing gaze—Colt included.
“Awkward,” Stone mumbles under her breath.
Leave it to Finn’s girl to be as perceptive as I am.
“So, are we doing this or not?” Ken cheers, the flush on her cheeks still very much present.
We all follow her outside, and for the next couple of hours, we just talk shit and have some fun throwing a damn football at one another. For a brief moment, it actually feels like we are normal college seniors, with no worries bigger than passing our midterms. It feels fucking nice to live in denial, even if only throughout the holiday.
When the time comes to take Scarlett home, so she can grab a quick shower before having to go to work, we say our goodbyes and hustle out of Lincoln’s mansion.
“Lincoln is a nice guy, isn’t he?” Scarlett asks, buckling her seatbelt.
“The best I know.”
“It’s a shame what happened to his parents.”
“Hmm,” I nod as I start my truck’s engine.
She bows her head and begins to fiddle with her hands on her lap.
“Something on your mind, Scar?”
“Hmm. It’s nothing. I was just remembering the last time I saw his mom. I guess there is no harm in saying this now since she’s gone, but she used to come to my uncle’s church every Friday.”
“She did? I don’t remember Sierra Richfield-Hamilton ever being the pious type.”
Scarlett twitches her nose, pulling her glasses up to its bridge.
“The church hosts an AA meeting on Fridays.”
“Oh.” I thin my lips.
It was well known that Lincoln’s mom lost it for a bit after Teddy died. Everyone knew that the governor’s wife and Richfield heir was a drunken lush. She had seemed to be getting her shit together before she died. Scarlett confirming that Lincoln’s mom attended AA just goes to show she really was putting in the effort.
“Yeah. I saw her there the day before she died, never once considering that would be the last I’d see her.”
“I know, baby.”
I try to console her by entwining my hand in hers while my other maintains steady on the steering wheel.
“She was so upset that night, crying on the phone when the meeting ended. She looked so lost.”
“How come?”
“I’m not sure. I was about to get my uncle, fearing she might relapse if she didn’t talk to someone, when a blue car pulled up. I called out to her and asked if she was okay, but she just waved me off and got in the car.”
“Did you see who was driving it?”
“It was dark by then, and I think the windows were tinted, too, so I wasn’t able to see the driver. All I saw was that she looked somewhat relieved when it came to pick her up from church. I did tell my uncle that I was worried about her, but he just said that whatever was happening with Lincoln’s mom was between her and God, and not to be gossiped about.”
“Right,” I mumble, not surprised her uncle would dismiss Scarlett’s worry for the sake of not having to meddle in such a prestigious life. “Hmm. You said Lincoln’s mom was picked up by a blue car, right? Do you remember the model?”
“I’m not really good with cars, East. But I know it was flashy. A convertible of some kind like the ones you see in the movies? Dark blue, maybe.”
My mind doesn’t have to think too hard to know precisely who drives a convertible, midnight-blue Aston Martin with tinted windows—Thomas-fucking-Maxwell.
I got you fucker!
Chapter 31
Scarlett
I sink my teeth into my lower lip to keep my loud wail trapped inside my throat. Easton pulls at my hair, unhappy with my silence, the sting making my eyes roll to the back of my head.