Series: Webs We Weave Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 167
Estimated words: 162520 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 813(@200wpm)___ 650(@250wpm)___ 542(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 162520 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 813(@200wpm)___ 650(@250wpm)___ 542(@300wpm)
Trevor runs a hand through his damp hair. “Hailey never said it wasn’t one.”
She blinks a couple times. I imprison a hot breath, waiting for her to decree, It’s a shit plan. Her mind must be racing, and I can’t keep quiet. “He’s not ready,” I tell her.
Trevor’s expression deadens. “Thanks, asshole. I believe in you, too.”
“It’s not that, Trev.” I catch his arm before he peels away, and I tug him back into the shade. “You’re too young in Trent’s eyes. He’s in his thirties. You’re nineteen.”
“Then he can view me as his little brother.”
“He knows you’re my little brother,” I retort. “He’s pissed at me right now, and he’s a vindictive fuck. He might use you to retaliate against me.”
“Is it being used if you know it’s happening, Rock?” he questions. I think about his relationship with Sidney. “I could use it to my benefit. I could use him, too.”
Hailey’s eyes rise to mine. “Trevor might not be able to influence him like you, but he could keep tabs on him. If Trent wants to get back at you, he’ll keep Trevor really close to rub it in your face. He could be our eyes and ears, and that’s better than nothing.”
I grind my molars.
“It’s another piece on the board, Rocky,” Hailey says. “It’s already hard with Phoebe off, and now you…”
I don’t think Trevor will be manipulated or played. Trent Waterford isn’t in the dark triad. But he’s so fucking unbearable, I don’t even want Trevor around him. Let alone kissing his ass. It’s not easy.
I’m not ready for my little brother to take my role, but I’ve never been ready for this. I’ve never wanted this, even though it’s part of what he’s always desired.
“This isn’t the only option,” I tell Trevor.
“I want to do this, Rock. Let me.” He’s pleading.
Christ. I squint out at the sun, then turn back to him. Knowing I need to give him the chance.
Trevor needs to get into Trent’s good graces. Quickly. So I tell him, “We’re about to have a very public, very aggressive fight. You’re going to need to hit me because I don’t want Trent to believe you’re scrawny and can be pushed around.”
Trevor is grinning.
Make no mistake, this next part, I viscerally hate. But the things that torch my soul are just necessary.
I shove my brother toward the ocean as he screams, “Get the fuck over it, Grey!” I stalk toward him with pent-up anger that lives inside me 24/7, and he bumps up into my chest, his eyes ablaze in ways they never really are, and I think, Keep it up, Trev. Don’t let go of the rage.
* * *
—
Three minutes later, I’m wrestling my little brother to the sand as fury explodes inside me, and I let his fist connect with my jaw. Not once but twice, I push him forcefully off me as my mouth fills with blood. Sidney shouts his name in the distance, and he almost breaks the fake animosity between us to look at her.
I thrust my hands at his chest, and he comes back to land a blow on my ribs.
At that one, I fake cough and fake wheeze.
From down the beach, Phoebe yells, “What the fuck, Trevor?!” Oliver and Nova outsprint her, and soon, they’re separating me from my brother.
I spit a wad of crimson saliva onto the sand and shout at my brother, “If you even step near Trent, me and you are going to have a fucking problem! You’re my responsibility! He’s a shitbag. I don’t want you around him!”
Trevor lets out a pained laugh. “You think you can tell me what to do?! I’m a fucking adult. I like Trent more than I like you right now. So fuck you. I never wanted you as a brother anyway.” His own words impale him. He slips me an uncertain look. Afraid he’s harmed me.
I spit again and glare. Hoping he stops breaking character. “Trevor.” I try to reach out to him, but not so he’ll reciprocate. “I don’t want you hanging around him, Trevor.”
Trevor flips me off with two middle fingers like a little punk and walks backward toward Sidney and her friends. When he spins around, he casts one glance back at me.
I can’t tell him, I’m okay. Your lies can’t hurt me. I still love you, shithead.
Because I know the truth. The Graveses do, too, when I give a sign it’s fake by rubbing hard at my temple like I have a migraine.
Phoebe plays along, not dropping her shock and horror. I let her draw me away from the water while Trevor retreats into Sidney’s consoling hug and her gaggle of friends.
“What the hell was that?” she whispers while we hike up toward the umbrella where I left Jake and Hailey.
I hawk up more blood, spitting one more time. I’m proud of his right hook, but fuck. I’m about to explain his new position in the takedown job of Trent Waterford, but I suddenly notice what she’s wearing.