“But that’s the thing, Wicked.” His smile is bitter. “I wouldn’t have understood. I didn’t get it.”
He stares at me the same way he stared at his webcam the day before, like there’s something else he wants to say, but I don’t have the courage to hear it. I start for the stairs and Griff follows.
“How much do they have on you?” he whispers.
They. Norcut and Hart. Just thinking the names makes the floor of my stomach wobble. “I killed Alan Bay,” I say at last. “Norcut told me it was an assessment test, that I was hijacking some remote computer, but I was actually turning his pacemaker on and off. If she turns over the log reports to the police, it’ll look like I did it on purpose.”
“Shit. What do you have on them?”
“Not enough.” I pause, push my knees straight before saying, “But Norcut offered me a deal. That money my dad had? He stole it from Looking Glass. He was working for them and made off with eleven million dollars. Then Lily took the money from Michael and someone else took it from her. Now I have to get it back or Norcut will retaliate and—”
“Eleven. Million. Dollars. How did Lily . . . ?”
“She took the money from some account Michael had and transferred it into my offshore account. That’s why Michael’s after me; he thinks I have his money and I don’t.”
“And you still won’t if you find it and give it to Norcut.”
“Pretty much.”
“Right. Bottom line, you’re screwed either way.”
“Yeah.” I look at Griff and try not to laugh because it really is kind of funny. I’m not being a bitch here. It’s kind of hilarious. Or I’m exhausted.
Or going crazy. It’s entirely possible at this point.
The edge of Griff’s mouth spasms once like he might be biting down a laugh too. It’s what I’ve always loved about him. He can laugh in the dark too. “What are you going to do?”
“Fight.”
30
Two hours later, the house is clear. Griff and I drag ourselves into the kitchen, where Bren’s had dinner ready for ages. The whole house smells like lasagna and there’s the faint “wah wah wah” of the living room television.
It’s all so freaking normal.
Except for the small pile of cameras now on the kitchen table. I collapse in the closest chair and pretend not to notice when Griff takes a spot by the counter, keeping half the kitchen between us.
Bren doesn’t say a word as she fills two plates, and maybe it’s the clink of dishes that draws my sister into the room. The television goes silent and Lily materializes in the doorway. She walks straight to me and drags a chair closer. I eat and my sister sits, watching me with our knees touching.
“Are these all of them?” Bren runs her fingers through the cameras I dumped on the kitchen table.
“Yeah,” I say and force another mouthful of food into me. I’m not hungry, but I know I need to eat.
“Can you tell how long they’ve been here?” Bren asks.
“Hard to say.” I draw my fork through the meat sauce on my plate. “They were probably installed during your last bug inspection.”
“I’ve used that company for years.”
“That’s why it was a good cover.”
For a very long moment, no one says anything. I take my plate to the sink and Lily follows, watches me scrape what’s left of my dinner into the disposal. “It’s not your fault, Bren. You couldn’t have known.”
Bren’s still staring at the cameras. “I want to know everything.”
The whole kitchen goes quiet. Lily shrinks into me, putting her small body between us. I know what my sister’s thinking: Don’t. Don’t. Don’t.
Can’t.
Because if I tell Bren everything, there’s no going back and I’m afraid. Everything I’ve done? She wants to know all of it? Now I’m cringing. Those confessions would be a minefield. I’d blow everything to pieces.
I meet Griff’s gaze and nod to him. He pushes to his feet and extends one bandaged hand to my sister. “C’mon, Lily. Just give them a few minutes, okay? Wick’s not going anywhere.”
He smiles and she relents. It’s like magic the way he handles people, the way they trust him. It’s thoughtful too, but part of me wishes he hadn’t taken her and that he hadn’t left. Would it be easier if Griff and Lily were standing next to me while I confessed?
I flick my eyes to Bren’s and she’s still watching me, waiting. No, there is nothing easy about what’s coming and there’s no getting past this anymore. We have lived with so many lies and secrets. If I blow those apart now, maybe whatever’s left will be real?
“It started with my dad,” I say, pushing each word. “Remember how they said I couldn’t have been involved in his scams? Well, I was. I’m the one who made Michael’s scams happen.”
Bren nods—jerks her head up and down, really—but her eyes never leave mine, and when she sits next to me, I tell her the rest.
How I worked for Detective Carson.
How Milo destroyed Detective Carson.