All the Pretty Lies (Pretty #1)(32)
Author: M. Leighton

I feel the beginnings of a headache. It worsens the longer Reese talks. This is what we wanted. It’s what we needed to do. A matter of honor. And respect. And it’s important to me. To all of us.

But…

It’ll kill Sloane. Of course, it’s not my fault her brother’s a d-bag.

But still…

And if…no when…she finds out I had a hand in it, it’ll be over. She’ll hate me and this will be over before it began.

That shouldn’t bother me. I mean, I don’t even know her that well. I shouldn’t give a shit. She’s collateral damage. The sister to a shitbird bastard, ass**le-of-a-human.

But still…

“Just keep me posted, man. I, uh, I wanna know what’s going down. You know, so I can be prepared.”

“Prepared? Prepared for what?” Reese asks.

“How the hell should I know? I’m the one on the front lines here. Who knows what kind of back lash something like this could have? Especially when they find out who I am. They’ll make the connection.”

“By then it won’t matter. It’ll be dealt with. One way or the other.”

I grit my teeth. “Still, I wanna know.”

“All right. Whatever. I’m making the call. Watch your back or sleep with one eye open, whatever it is you feel like you need to do. But I still don’t think you’ll have anything to worry about.”

“You don’t know these people. They take care of their own.”

“Even when one of their own is dirty?”

“They’re like family. Some of them are literally family. I think it would be a mistake to underestimate them.”

“Whatever. I’ll keep you posted,” he says in his short, clipped way.

“Thanks.”

“Later,” Reese says.

“Later.”

The line goes dead and I’m left in the quiet of my house, thinking.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE – Sloane

“What the hell are you so happy about at this hour?” Steven asks as he stomps groggily into the kitchen.

“Good morning to you, too,” I reply cheerfully.

I sip my coffee as he makes himself a sandwich. It’s been Steven’s habit since we were kids to have a weird, lunch-like breakfast. It’s not unusual for him to have a peanut butter sandwich or a roast beef sandwich, sometimes even a tuna fish sandwich, which is the nastiest thing in the world to smell at six a.m.

“Well, what’s going on with you? I notice you’re keeping late hours. Just going right off the deep end, huh?” he says sharply.

“No, I’m not ‘going right off the deep end’.”

“Sure as shit seems like it. Staying out until all hours, drinking, making friends with all sorts of unsavory types.”

I get immediately defensive. “And just what ‘unsavory types’ are you referring to?”

“You didn’t think I’d forget, did you? That guy? At Cuff’s? That wasn’t the first time you two met. And I’ve seen him around there before. He’s probably a small-time criminal. Just the kind of person you need to get involved with right out of the gate,” he says snidely.

“He’s not a criminal. Of any kind, small time or otherwise.”

“And how, exactly, do you know this?”

“Because I just know. I know him.”

“The only way to be sure is to let us run a background check.”

My mouth drops open. “You can’t be serious.”

Steven looks at me like he can’t believe I’m questioning him. “Of course I’m serious.”

“You can’t just do stuff like that, Steven. God!”

“Why the hell not?”

“You…you…it’s…You just can’t.”

“Well, your sound logic has never stopped me before.”

If possible, I’m even more astonished. Which I’m pretty sure is physically impossible for me at this point. “You’ve run checks on people I know?” I say quietly. Steven, so righteous at the moment, doesn’t notice that I’m dangerously quiet.

“Yeah. So?”

“Like who?” I’m telling myself to remain calm. At least until I can get an idea of the true extent of this betrayal.

“Like…everyone you’ve associated with for the last five or six years.”

I am beside myself with anger and resentment and…shock. I never would’ve dreamed my crazy family would go to such extreme measures. Never ever.

My hands are shaking I’m so mad. When he continues, I’m still considering punching my brother as hard as I can right in the stomach. The desire is only heightened at his matter-of-fact tone, like he’s done nothing wrong.

“I would’ve already done it on this guy, but he’s a little harder to pin down. Which is cause for concern.”

“Well you can just give it the hell up then! I don’t want you to pin him down. Or investigate him. Or even so much as look at him. I want you to stay out of my life!”

Steven stares at me as though I’m a silly two year old, throwing a childish temper tantrum. “Tough shit. We’re your family. We look out for you. It’s what we do.”

My anger is diffused a bit by his obliviousness to why I’d be upset. “Steven, this isn’t normal. Or healthy. Y’all can’t treat me this way for the rest of my life. You have to let me grow up. You have to learn to trust me. And my judgment. You have to let me make my own mistakes.”

“No, we don’t.”

I squeeze my head between my hands, wishing I could ease the pressure that’s pounding right at my temples. I close my eyes and wave my hands at him. “I give up. If this is how you’re going to be, then don’t expect me to respect this insanity. Because I won’t. I won’t because I shouldn’t have to. It’s over the top and completely unacceptable.”

“Sloane, with your history—”

“Stop right there. You’ve got to let me go, Steven. I’m spreading my wings whether you like it or not. Don’t make this harder on all of us than it has to be.”

I see an uncharacteristic hint of sadness in my brother’s jet black eyes. “Do what you have to do. And we’ll do what we have to do.”

Without another word, Steven takes his sandwich and walks away.

********

I get ready and I dress for “work” on Saturday night with great care. There is, of course, the suspicion (and the hope) that tonight will be the night Hemi takes my virginity. I’ve always considered it an embarrassing thing. Like I’m some kind of freak. But now, I’m glad no other guy has ever had the balls to take it from me. I’d much rather be deflowered at the hands (and mouth and body) of someone like Hemi than an overzealous teenager.