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)
The gold heart-shaped locket belongs to Elizabeth Graves. And yet, it’s not what’s setting off a shrill alarm in my head.
“Is that Nova’s shirt?” I narrow my gaze at her.
She glares back. “Yeah, so?”
So, why is she wearing his shirt? Phoebe isn’t Hailey. Her normal beach attire is skimpy and barely fucking clothed. What made her feel like she needed to cover up?
Last night.
Being drugged, maybe. I knew it’d affect her, but I haven’t been sure to what degree.
“Don’t look at me like that.” She crosses her arms and raises her stiff shoulders. “I’m fine…sort of. But being sort of fine is still fine.”
“Fine,” I snap back.
“Fine.”
I scrape a hand across my throbbing mouth, then I reach out and draw my girlfriend against my chest. Phebs untangles her arms to hold on to me. I cup the back of her head and feel her pounding pulse begin to slow. Then I kiss her temple before she says, “I didn’t want them to stare at my body.”
“Who?” Aggravated heat ratchets up inside me.
“Just these guys on the beach.”
I glare out. Wanting to maim and injure. I can only hope this is just Phoebe still processing the night. She’ll be okay.
The best part of this moment—everyone can see me and her together. There is no more hiding what she means to me. There really doesn’t have to be.
THIRTY-FOUR
Jake
I’m struggling.
My Porsche idles in the parking lot behind Baubles & Bookends, and the hardback of When the Wind Blows by James Patterson sits on my passenger seat. Book club starts soon, but I’m more likely to melt into the leather than leave the car.
Before this summer, I made peace with the idea that happiness was never really in the cards for me. I grew up aware that any future foretold was one filled with some kind of misery. Even if the Graveses and Tinrocks can pull through and land me the crown, that headpiece is made of thorns. It’s a position of power behind a legacy of misdeeds.
Being with Hailey and Oliver this summer has been like tasting the forbidden fruit of happiness. I understand now what it is I’m setting myself up to lose if the con goes sideways.
All I can see is packed bags, waves goodbye, a future where I daydream about what they’re up to, and a life filled with what-ifs.
I am struggling with fear.
I’m scared I’m going to lose them—really lose them.
Maybe this is how it was always supposed to be. Maybe they’re not meant for me. My future was never destined to carry happiness. Only purpose.
The rev of an engine cuts my thoughts, and I see a silver Bentley Continental GTC pull into the parking spot next to mine. Trent flicks the visor up, and I let out a heavy sigh. He’s inescapable.
I check my watch. Can he just fuck off to wherever he’s going? I look up and jolt. He’s at my passenger door. He taps the window with his knuckles and, sunglasses in hand, points at the door.
Against my better judgment, I unlock it.
Trent picks up the hardback and tosses it on the dashboard before he climbs in. When the door shuts, he tips his chin toward the Bentley. “You like?”
My jaw tics. My judgment really is in the dumpster, because I entertain his bullshit.
“It’s new?” I ask.
“Just got her yesterday. An early birthday gift from Jordan.”
“Your birthday is in November.”
Trent smiles. “Maybe he just wanted to suck up to me then.” He passes a hand between us. “He senses blood in the water.”
“And which one of us got a chunk bitten out of them?”
Trent runs his fingers through his hair. “The thing with Grey was a misunderstanding. I’ve never wanted to sleep with his ex-wife. I definitely would never force myself on her.”
“It’s been a week. How many people are buying that story?”
He rolls his eyes. “Can you be a good brother for five seconds and just believe what I’m telling you?”
“Maybe if you told me the truth—”
“Hey, hey.” Trent holds up his hands like he wants to squash this. “I didn’t come talk to you to start an argument.”
I growl out an annoyed breath. “Then why are you here, Trent?”
He glances out the window. “To offer an olive branch. I’m tired of fighting with you, Jake. We’re both drowning in legal fees and baseless town rumors. They shouldn’t have to pick sides between brothers. Aren’t you sick of people whispering behind your back?”
“You used to enjoy the whispers,” I remind him.
“Well, they’re no longer fun.” He grabs my hardback off the dash. “You love this town. You love the people here.” His eyes lift to mine. “I’m willing to give you all the properties in Victoria for your share of the company.”
This is not an olive branch. It’s scraps, but it’s the first time he’s been willing to give me even a crumb.