“Huh,” I breathe, glancing up at Riley and trying to push his phone out of my face. “Yeah, umm … I don’t know what to do with that.”

  “The fuck, man?” he panics, trying to push his phone into my hands. “You started this. You need to finish it. I don’t know what the fuck to say to this girl.”

  “Well, figure it out, and do it now before she puts her phone back down and loses interest.”

  His eyes widen, realizing I’m right. “Fuck,” he says, jumping down from the edge of the fire pit and backing up to his seat, not bothering to even look before he sits in it. His fingers hover over the screen, moving closer before hesitating and pulling back again. He goes on like this for at least five minutes before frustration gets the best of him. “FUCK! This shouldn’t be so hard.”

  “What the hell is wrong with you, man?” Logan questions. “You never strike out. Just have a normal fucking conversation with her and seal the deal already. Just leave the bullshit pick-up lines out of it and act like a normal fucking human being.”

  Riley groans, bunching his hands into fists before taking a breath and trying to relax. “Fine, okay,” he says, letting his fingers move across the screen. He hits send before his gaze snaps up to mine. “Holy shit, I did it,” he says, his face white as a fucking ghost.

  I laugh. “What’d you say?”

  “Asked her what she’s doing,” he says before blanching again. “Oh, fuck. She’s seen it,” he says before his eyes widen further. “OH FUCK. SHE’S TYPING!”

  I shake my head, not prepared to watch Riley freak out over his phone for the next hour, but I’m saved when Damien and Jensen come striding through the party, wide grins on both their faces, already drunk as fucking skunks. “Yo, what’s crackin’ bitches?” Jensen says, raising a beer he swiped from the kitchen. He doesn’t wait for a response before turning to Jax. “Nice to see you still breathing, asshole.”

  Jax rolls his eyes, clearly not in the mood after Arizona’s dismissal. “What’s going on?” I ask as the moron just grins back at me.

  Damien takes pity and finally clues us in, throwing his arm over his new stepbrother’s shoulder, both of them grinning ear to ear. “This fucker just got accepted into Brown, that’s what,” he says just like a proud big brother would.

  “Fuck yeah, man,” I say, getting up. I go to congratulate him, pulling him in and clapping him on his back. “That’s fucking awesome. Have you told Bri yet? I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to get you out of town.”

  Jensen scoffs a laugh. “I bet she would,” he says. “But nah, only just found out on the ride over.”

  “Congrats, man,” I say, really fucking proud of the bastard despite kinda hating him. I suppose Bri has unintentionally brought us back together like when we were kids. I know last year was hard for him, finishing his senior year, only to have some girl falsely cry rape to avoid her parents’ wrath. He was dropped from all his college options and left with nothing despite clearing his name. At least now he’s finally getting back on track.

  “Yeah, yeah,” Damien says, cutting off our conversation. “Where’s Ilaria?”

  I roll my eyes and point across the party to where the girls are already shit-faced—all the girls except for Bri.

  I start searching for her, scanning through all the bodies when a text comes through on my phone. I pull it out and glance down at the screen.

  Killer - Hey

  Suspicion rears its ugly head as I respond.

  Tanner - Hey to you too.

  Killer - I’ve got a surprise for you.

  Tanner - Oh yeah?

  A photo comes through a moment later and I groan, taking in the fishnet stockings pulled up her gorgeous thigh, leading up to a black lace thong with a black garter belt connecting the two. My dick fucking jolts to life like someone hit it with defibrillator paddles.

  Another text comes through.

  Killer - It’s all yours … if you can find me.

  Not even a cheetah could catch me now.

  I run inside, trying to look closer at the background of the photo to figure out where the fuck my dessert lies. This house is fucking huge. The twins’ parents didn’t spare a single expense when building this mansion and it shows. I’ve always loved it, except for right fucking now. They have thirteen spare bedrooms! This isn’t going to be easy, but that’s assuming she’s actually in a bedroom and not one of the private offices, living spaces, or theater rooms.

  Screw my uncle and his fucking money. I need to taste that fucking pussy right now.

  Skipping up the stairs two at a time, I can’t help but wonder what I look like to the people down below, barging through the crowd, desperate to get upstairs. Hell, it’s probably nothing good. I’m sure they think I’m about to shit myself and need to get to a private bathroom before I redecorate the Italian marble tiles.

  Getting up to the second floor, I start throwing doors open, not bothering with an apology as I disturb not one, but three different couples fucking in the twins’ parents room. Hell, I don’t even wait a moment to try and figure out if this was some twisted version of an orgy and they don’t quite understand the whole togetherness part of it.

  Continuing on, I burst through three more doors before coming to the furthest spare bedroom on the second floor. I twist the handle and swing it wide to find Bri standing in the darkened room, just enough light spilling in from the hallway to see the perfect silhouette of her body in her lingerie.

  I groan low, never having seen these before, but with the fishnet stockings and garter belt, I almost fall to my fucking knees in the doorway.

  Bri stands by the window, looking out at the party below, her back to me and showing off that delectable ass in her thong. My mouth goes dry. “Killer,” I groan, stepping through the door, not wanting to close it behind me in fear of blocking out the light and not being able to see her.

  Bri glances over her shoulder, her eyes locking onto mine, and for only a moment, I think this is going to be one of the best nights of my life. But those delicious pouty lips quickly pull into a wicked smirk, and before she’s even made a sound, I realize this isn’t anything at all like what I thought it was going to be.

  “What the he—”

  “SURPRISE, FUCKER!” she calls, whipping around so fast, I nearly miss the gigantic strap-on dildo protruding from her hips. She braces her hands against her waist, posing like fucking Superman, her cock so fucking big, I almost feel like less of a man … almost.

  I gape at her, having no fucking idea what to say.

  “I’ve been thinking,” she says, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “It’s not fair for me to have all the fun, right? You got to claim my ass, so I think it’s only right I get to claim yours.”

  My heart races, not wanting to ever break her heart or tell her no, but fuck, there’s always a first for everything. “Ummmm,” I say, the real words I need to say getting caught in my throat when I see a sparkle at the tip of the dildo. “Is that thing pierced?”

  “Yep,” she says proudly. “You like it? I thought it added a little something special. After all, it’s a party. Everyone and everything should look their best for a night out. Addie helped me with it.”

  “She what?” I demand, my eyes bugging out of my head. “Holy shit, you’ve corrupted my sister.”

  “Oh, please,” Bri laughs, wiggling her hips just to see the strap on dance. “Actually, speaking of piercings, where do you draw the line for that? Because dammmmmn. I played with this thing this afternoon and I’m not above sneaking into your room in the middle of the night to pierce yours. Though I’m kinda hoping you’ll get it done by a professional, cause like, I wouldn’t trust my ability to get it straight.”

  “I ummm … holy fuck, Killer,” I mutter, closing the door behind me and flipping on the lights. “I swear, I fucking love you, but if you don’t take that thing off, you’re gonna see a grown man cry and I really don’t want that to happen. This visual is already scarred in my mind.”

  Bri laughs as she loosens the buckle for the harness, letting the whole contraption slip down her thighs, the dildo hitting the ground with a heavy thump. “Relax,” she tells me, stepping out of the harness, her heels gently clicking against the tiles as she makes her way over to me. Her hand presses against my chest as she reaches up to brush a kiss over my lips. “I’m just fucking with you.”

  I let out a heavy breath and take her waist, pulling her in hard against me. “I hope that doesn’t mean you’re not down to fuck because you look like a goddamn meal in this,” I say, my hands roaming over her body and grabbing a perfect handful of ass.

  “You’re damn right, I am,” she says just as a message pops up on my phone.

  I ignore it, determined to get my fill of Bri, but a second message comes in followed by a third. “Fuck, sorry, babe,” I say, slipping my hand into my pocket and pulling out my phone once again. I find three texts from Mom and my brows furrow before a slight panic sears through my chest.

  I spoke to her just before Jax demanded to throw a party tonight, and when I did, she mentioned something about wanting to chat with our lawyer about pushing through the custody arrangement. She feels we’ve already missed enough time with our newest addition.

  Quickly checking her messages, I open them up only to be blindsided by the photographs of me inside that Hope Falls house, staring at a boy’s lifeless body as one of the Hardin brothers lays on top of the little boy’s mother, forcing her legs apart.

  Bile rises in my throat but I force myself to read the accompanying messages.

  Mom - Get your ass home.

  Mom - NOW.

  Chapter 29

  TANNER

  My palms sweat as I pull my bike into the driveway with Bri plastered against my back. My head hasn’t stopped spinning since the second Mom’s texts came through, and I’m not so proud to admit I was forced to run to the bathroom and throw up everything in my stomach.

  I’ve been dreading this moment since I was fourteen, and I’ve avoided it like the fucking plague. But here it is, right on my fucking doorstep, staring me in the face. There’s no going back now. I promised Bri I would come clean, that I’d finally talk to Mom about this and learn how to move past it, but the very thought of it has crippled me to the point of physical pain.

  It killed me letting her know I was the father of Rachael’s child. I’ve never wanted to disappoint her, and while she took it in stride and held her head high, I knew a part of her was breaking. She’s always feared I would fuck up and lose myself in the process, but now that she’s seen how bad my mistakes are, nothing will ever be the same between us.

  Knowing I can’t sit out here all night, I take a shaky breath and cut the engine. Bri releases her hold around my waist and climbs off my bike, hovering close as I do the same. “You’re going to be okay,” she murmurs, taking her helmet off and hanging it over the handlebar with mine. “She’s going to be broken, but just know that it can’t get worse than this. Once the words come out and she has time to process, it will get easier.”

  I look up, meeting her stare. “You sure about that?”

  Bri presses her lips into a tight line. “No,” she admits. “But I wasn’t about to tell you that you’re about to break your mother’s heart and that she’ll never forgive you. Positive thinking, Tanner.”

  “Right,” I mutter, hitting the remote for the automatic garage door. It slowly begins to roll up and I start pushing my bike inside. Half of me wants to get this over and done with while the other part of me desperately wishes to get back on this bike and never come back. Though, I’d have to take Bri with me because there’s no way in hell I’d leave her behind. Hell, I might even send Addie the occasional postcard. Maybe a text if I’m feeling generous.

  “Come on,” Bri says, seeing the hesitation in my eyes. “Like a Band-Aid.”

  I nod. “I’ve always hated that metaphor.”

  “Well, tough shit,” she says. “Get a move on. Your Mom probably heard your bike from a mile away, and now she’s sitting in there wondering why you’re being such a bitch and not walking through her door.”

  “Shit,” I sigh, hating how right she is.

  I go to reach for Bri’s hand but she pulls back with a cringe. “I umm … I think I should give you and your mom space to talk this through. I don’t want her to feel as though she has to play the part of perfect doting Mom because I’m there when all she probably wants to do is rip you a new asshole.”

  My brows furrow and I step around my bike, pulling her into me. “You sure?”

  “Yeah,” she says, nodding toward Channing’s place. “I’ll sneak back into my room and sleep there tonight. They won’t even know I’m there.”

  A chill sails down my spine. “You know how I feel about you staying there.”

  “I know,” she whispers, pushing up on her tippy toes and brushing a kiss over my lips. “But I’ll be okay for one night. I’ll lock my door and you could always come and join me when you’re done talking to your mom. You know, if you’re still alive.”

  Fuck.

  “Yeah, okay,” I say, blowing my cheeks out with a heavy breath. “Do you want me to walk you over there?”

  “It’s two steps away,” she says, giving me a blank stare. “Stop avoiding your mom and go give her the answers she needs.” With that, she steps back, pulling her hands free of mine and letting them fall away. She gets to the opening of the garage before pausing and glancing back at me. “Just remember I love you and you’re an amazing man. No matter what happens in there, I’ve always got your back. Nothing that happened that night could ever change the way I feel about you.”

  Warmth spreads through my chest, and before I can tell her how much she means to me, she’s gone, slipping into the darkness and crossing to Channing’s property. Needing to get this over and done with, I close the garage door and make my way through the internal door.

  All the lights are off, but I see a soft glow coming from the formal dining room right down the hall. I swallow hard. We don’t use that room, not even for formal dinner parties, so the fact she’s decided that will be our interrogation room already has me wanting to run.

  An eeriness comes over me as I stride down the hall, trying to make a little noise so she can prepare herself. Only as I turn into the dining room, I realize that she’s not only prepared, but she’s ready to fucking go.

  A bottle of wine rests on the table, nearly empty, and her lipstick stains the rim of her glass. She’s been going hard on the bottle, so hard there’s a condensation circle around the bottom, directly against the table, which is unheard of from my mother.

  “Sit down,” she says, not even looking up at me.

  I nod and walk past her, quickly scanning the photographs on the table and the other paperwork I didn’t even know existed, but from here there seems to be some kind of statement, and my guess would be it’s from the mother or a neighbor who witnessed the break in. All I know is that for it to be on this very table, it must have my name written all over it.

  Taking a seat just down from her, I prepare myself to face the firing squad, and as I glance up, I see the almost empty bottle of white rum sitting beside a tall shot glass.

  Fuck.

  Mom lifts her glass of wine to her lips and takes a sip, still not able to look at me before putting it down a little too hard. “Talk,” she spits.

  “Mom,” I say, something breaking inside of me as I brush my fingers over the photographs. “This isn’t who I am. I never wanted to be a part of any of that, and had I known … fuck, Mom. I screwed up. I was young and stupid with a chip on my shoulder, and I … I swear to you, I’ve felt sick about this since the day it happened.”

  Mom’s head snaps up, her sharp glare locking directly onto mine. “I don’t want your excuses or to hear your groveling. You’ve had four years to come to me with this. I want to know what the fuck happened and why the hell you were in that house. I want every last detail, right down to your specific involvement, and why the hell these documents anonymously showed up on my doorstep. You’re not to stop speaking until I physically ask you to. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, Mom,” I say, never having felt this low in my life. But just as she asked, I give it to her straight, not skipping out on a single detail, just as I’d done with Bri. I give her the ins and outs, the very thoughts that were going through my head at the time, and the way I almost pissed my pants when that gun was pointed at that little boy and rang loudly through the house.

  Mom sips her wine with bloodshot eyes, refilling it at least three times, her lashes wet from the stream of tears spilling down her face.

  I tell her every last detail of that night, right up to the Hardin brothers cornering me on the way home, threatening my family and beating the shit out of me. I tell her how Riley all but saved me that night and how up until a week ago, I was unaware my father knew all about it.

  Every now and then, she pipes up with a question which I answer quickly and factually before continuing with my story. Only those questions become more frequent when I tell her about my visit from Channing in the precinct cells.

  “You think these papers came from him?” Mom demands.

  I shake my head. “Dad and Channing are the only ones who know about this, and I doubt the Hardin brothers are stupid enough to keep this kind of evidence on hand,” I tell her. “Honestly, it could have come from either of them. Channing is determined to fuck with me because of Bri, and Dad … well, I wouldn’t put it past him to try and punish me after his little performance last week.”

  “Bri?” she questions, her gaze snapping back to mine. “What does she have to do with this?”

  I quickly explain everything Channing said to me about Bri, word for fucking word and by the time I’m done, Mom looks as though she could tear him limb from limb, but we’re not nearly done yet.

  Getting back on track, I explain my reasons for why I haven’t told her, my true and very real fears about the retaliation from the Hardin brothers and for the first time all night, I see just a hint of understanding in her eyes. “I swear, Mom,” I tell her, letting her see just how broken up I am about everything that’s happened, letting her see how I shoulder the guilt despite having been a misguided child myself. “I'm doing everything in my power to make sure she's taken care of, even though I know it’ll never be enough. I paid for a proper burial from my trust for the little boy, and I’ve made sure his grave stays clean. I pay her rent, and make sure she has everything she needs, but I just—”