Chapter 42

forty-two

HENDRIX

My sleep last night was interrupted. Because Lola knew. And if she didn't know know—she knew something. I really wanted her to tell me the truth about what had happened. Maybe that was selfish of me.

Because it didn't matter. I loved her when I thought she'd cheated; I loved her now. I loved her no matter what.

Maybe we'd both go the rest of our lives trying to protect the other from secrets concerning that piece of shit.

Lola gripped my hand as we stepped up to the Lancasters' front door—double door, because they were rich—and I forced those thoughts back down.

"No swearing," she said.

My head whipped around, my nuts freezing off in the cold. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

"Yes. And no stealing anything."

I huffed. Like I would steal something from them. They loved Gracie, and Chad was okay now that I knew he was railing Kyle-B-Wan instead of Lola.

"Just behave." She placed a quick kiss on my lips. "In as much capacity as you have." Then she rang the doorbell.

Chadwick Beaverlichtenstein answered the door and showed us into their gleaming marble foyer. Their Christmas tree was as tall as my house with presents out the ass underneath it, all wrapped in shiny, matching, expensive paper.

All I could see was cash money and opportunities. Because you could take a thief out of Dayton, but you couldn't put him in Barrington without him wanting to steal everything.

Lola leaned into my side. "Don't even think about it."

"It smells like lavender and exasperations."

She frowned, and I pinched her side.

"I know. I know," I said, planting a kiss on her cheek. "It's aspirations. Give me a fuc—" Don't swear. Don't swear, you cock-sucking weasel —"break."

Footsteps pattered down one of the hallways before Gracie shot around a corner and kamikaze dived into my legs. "King Buttmunch!"

"Princess Dingleberry." I made a bow before scooping her into my arms.

Chad groaned. "Mom is going to love that."

"The stench of Dayton will be strong tonight, Chadwick." I clapped a hand to his back, and he stumbled a little. I bit back the urge to ask him about Kyle and his Chewbacca-purring ass.

Gracie sniffed my shirt, throwing her head back to glance up at me. "You don't stench, Hendrix. You smell good." Then she hopped down and hugged Lola. "Tell King Buttmunch he smells good."

Lola huffed beside me. "This is going to be a shi—shiny show."

Mr. and Mrs. Daddy Warbucks came out, smiling. The mom stepped forward and held out her hand. "I'm Emma. It's so lovely to finally meet you, Hendrix."

I fought the scowl that wanted to shape my face when I took her hand, then Mr. Warbucks.

Lola had sworn they were nice, but that was my first time meeting them. Not to mention, I'd never set foot in a Barrington house and not had the cops called on me. Which, in my defense, made perfect sense. But they were smiling at me like the opening scene in one of those low-budget slasher films. One where the unknowing couple got an invitation to a dinner party only to be murdered and have their dead carcasses spread out on the table in some rich-person ritual.

I shook the man's hand. "Nice to meet you, too."

When he walked off, Lola nudged my ribs hard enough that I almost coughed. "Why did you do that?" I whispered on our way into the huge dining room off the foyer.

"You're looking at them like you need to take a shit. They aren't about to kill you and wear your skin."

She knew me too well. "How the hell am I supposed to know they aren't?" I glanced at the large dining table pre-set with nice china and way too many forks. Who needed that many forks? I placed my lips by her ear, inhaling her Country Peach smell. "This is really giving me some Hannibal Lecter vibes."

"They're nice. Be nice." She grabbed my hand and pulled me over to the table, shoving me into one of the fancy chairs beside her.

Gracie sat on the other side of me, grabbing my hand as Mr. Lancaster stood at the head of the table. "Shall we pray?"

I leaned in beside Lola. "Lettuce pray." This would be the first time in my life I actually had…

Gracie shushed me, then swiped her hand over my face, shutting my eyes as Mr. Lancaster/Daddy Warbucks went into a prayer about blessing food and nourishment and something about hands. And the second I took my first bite of food, I thought maybe I should start praying if I could eat shit like this every time.

When we got home after dinner, Lola went into the bathroom to shower, and I went to Zepp's room.

He looked up from the drawing on his desk before the door shut behind me.

A stern frown set on his face as he leaned back in the desk chair. "You okay?"

"Yeah."

He nodded toward the hallway beyond the closed bedroom door. "She okay?"

I dragged a hand through my hair on a heavy breath. "I think so."

She seemed fine, but then again, she'd seemed fine when nothing was. That knot of anxiety tightened my chest again, and I paced Zepp's cluttered room. "I hate I got you involved in this shit."

I stopped pacing and stared at the hula girl lamp on Zepp's side table. It was fine. I knew it was. It had to be, but the stress of it was getting to me. Bad.

He sighed, tapping his pencil over the desk. "You didn't get me involved in anything. She's like my sister."

Seconds passed when reality hit me hard. I hadn't let Zepp do anything that could have gotten him in trouble, but he knew. He'd helped me figure out how to get away with it. Helped make sure Ethan and his mom were actually gone.

"I get it, Hendrix," he said.

My attention snapped away from the lampshade to my brother's stern frown.He stared down at his drawing with a creased brow.

"When you have someone who makes you want to live… You'll do anything to make shit right. I intended to kill Harford with that baseball bat. Fate just didn't let me." His gaze met mine. "You made it right." Then he picked up his pencil and swept the colored lead across the page. "One thing I learned in prison—everyone has their secrets."

True. But some—ours—were just worse than others.