Becca Ritchie - Addicted for Now

“Ryke, how do you know Loren?”

“He’s my brother.”

Her brows shoot up. “Wow, I didn’t know he had a brother.”

“Neither did I,” I say, shoving the phone back in Aaron’s palm. “Did you use a fake phone? A disposable?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Aaron says, his eyes wide. “I didn’t do shit to you or Lily. I told you, your father—”

“I don’t believe you,” I say, not really sure what I believe. He could be lying. Out of everyone I know, he’s the most likely to threaten Lily. If I can end it all right here, right now, that’s what I’ll do.

“You’re out of your fucking mind!” Aaron screams.

Ryke steps forward to my defense. “Says the guy who spent two hours chasing a girl around a ballroom, terrifying her beyond fucking words.”

“Wow,” Julie says, “you’re sexy when you’re mad.”

“Julie!” Aaron shouts. “Leave, now. Get the fuck out of here.”

Julie rolls her eyes and drops off the tips of her feet like Aaron popped her entertainment. She nods to me. “It’s nice to see you again, Loren. I’m sorry my brother can’t get over our relationship.”

“Yeah, he has trouble letting things go.” If I was him, I would still be full of resentment. I don’t blame him at all. I just hate that I drove him to this place—to a point where he could attack Lily while I was at rehab. I was such a stupid fucking kid. I still am sometimes.

I could be going about this the wrong way right now. But it’s the only thing I know how to do. And it works. I use my words. Threaten the guy who’s threatening me.

Julie walks off to the kitchen, in plain view. Mostly so Ryke can see her bend low as she grabs a pan from the cupboard. She looks back to make sure he caught sight of her ass. He didn’t. His eyes haven’t left Aaron. But as I watch her, Aaron is seconds from imploding, dropping on his knees, and giving me what I want. I can’t take credit for that. I think, partly, my father’s previous threats have already sunk in.

“Where’s your disposable phone?” I ask again.

Ryke puts his hand on my arm, and he whispers, “I don’t think he did it.”

I don’t want to believe that. Because then I’ll be clueless.

I’ll have no idea who else it could be.

Aaron holds up his hands in defense. “I don’t know what happened, but I’m not the only guy who hates you, Loren. So whatever is going on, maybe you should think about who else you pissed off all these years. I can’t imagine college was that pleasant for you.”

Yeah…I may be fucked.

I nod to myself. But if he is the guy who sent me those texts, I’m not just going to leave here without insurance that he won’t do something again. I have to have the last word. So I lean in and I say, “If you scare my girlfriend again, you’ll wish all you had to worry about was working for your fucking daddy.” My eyes flicker to Julie once. “And you should start eating your sister’s makeup. Your insides are fucking ugly.”

He could easily say as are yours. But nothing comes from his mouth. He’s solidified in a mixture of hate and fear—emotions that are floating all around his house right now.

I don’t wait for him to reanimate.

I leave.

And on the way to the car, Ryke says, “You didn’t tell me you’d be fucking with his sister.”

“Does it matter?”

He stares straight ahead, his eyes dark.

“She was objectifying you, Ryke,” I tell him. “She was two seconds from pulling down your pants and climbing on your dick.”

“Like Lily?” he snaps back.

“Fuck. You.” I swing open the car door. It’s not the same thing. Lily—she’s my best friend. I’m not a conquest of hers. If that were true, she wouldn’t still be with me. I wouldn’t be able to satisfy her for so long.

“Sorry,” Ryke barely apologizes, his harsh tone never softening. “I just don’t want to see another girl get caught in the fucking crossfires of your feuds.”

“I’m not going to hurt her. He just has to think I am.”

Ryke stares at me for a long moment. “Did our father teach you that?”

“Yeah,” I say. “He also taught me how to get in a car and drive the fuck away.”

Ryke nods. “Glad to know you’re still an asshole, even without the booze.”

“Must be genetic.”

Ryke smiles at this, and we both climb into his Infinity. I don’t feel better after this. Because I don’t even remember some of the people I pissed off.

I drowned most of them in a haze of whiskey and bourbon.

They’re gone from my mind for good.

“Is this an interrogation or a meeting?” Ryke asks roughly. He slouches on our navy Queen Anne chair with a deep scowl, sweat stains seeping through a Penn track shirt.

There are only three people who could have possibly spilled my secret. And the guy at the top of my suspect list has yet to crumble. Although, very little ruffles Ryke Meadows.

And here he sits—edged, all hard-lines, his eyes perpetually narrowed and his demeanor cocky and self-assured. He managed to become a part of Lo’s life. He infiltrated our group, and he has never made a move to leave. He either cares about his brother so much that he’s willing to endure almost anything or he’s scheming for something greater—something that could overturn my whole world.

 So it’s true that I’ve been hammering Ryke with questions, and I’m about one step away from shining a blinding light in his face to get real serious. But I have a right to freak out. My life is seconds from crumbling.

Lo passes Ryke a bottle of water.

I shoot Lo a wide-eyed look. He shouldn’t be giving him sustenance until we have answers. That could have been our only bargaining chip. “Who says he gets water?” I blurt out.

Their brows crinkle as though I’ve lost some brain cells. Okay, so I’m being irrational. What else is new?

Ryke raises a hand. “I’m sorry, but is anyone else concerned for my safety here?”

Lo ignores his brother and clasps my hand, pulling me to the sofa. My leg touches his, but the closeness doesn’t calm me. Since I read the text, panic has overpowered my chance at being composed and sane.

I don’t want to act like this, but my only other way of coping with high-stress situations involves grinding and climaxing and everything I’m not allowed to do.

Rose’s heels clap down the hallway. “Connor should be here any minute now.” She sits on the pale yellow loveseat adjacent to the couch, crossing her ankles. In a black pleated skirt and a high-collared silk blouse, she looks far classier than anyone else in the room.

“Great, so you can direct this interrogation on someone else,” Ryke says, eyeing me with a tad bit of scorn. But in Ryke Meadows’ case, there’s probably a little pinch of love in there. At least I hope we made some progress while Lo was in rehab. Sure, we had a rocky three months, but Lo was always our common ground.

But if he’s behind some larger plot to ruin Lo’s life—and consequently mine—I’ll never forgive him.

Lo runs a hand on my bouncing leg, trying to settle my nerves. “I’m going to take care of it, Lil,” he says softly.

And my interrogation aside, Ryke gives him a dark, furtive look. I’ve seen it before. It’s the kind you share with someone when you have a secret.

I gasp. “Have you done something without me?”

Lo shakes his head. “No.” He won’t meet my eyes.

I smack his chest. “You’re a lying liar, and we’re supposed to be truthful.”

“Well,” he draws out the word, “if the guy keeps texting us, we may or may not be able to cross Aaron Wells off our suspect list.”

“May or may not?” Rose says. “That sounds like no progress.”

“I did what I did. I’m not going to take it back.” His voice is sharp.

All I hear is Aaron Wells, and I go cold. “What did you do?” Aaron is not someone I ever want to see again.

Rose mutters something under her breath that sounds like vandalize.

“I just talked to him,” Lo says.

I look to Ryke for verification. Clearly he was a part of this plot, which only makes me more nervous.

“Yeah, we just talked,” Ryke says. “All of Aaron’s texts were deleted, which was suspect.”

Lo nods in agreement, and then he leans closer and kisses my cheek. “Okay?” he whispers to me.

I don’t think that’s the right word. I stare at the rug with a faraway gaze.

“What about Ryke?” Rose asks. She holds a small teacup between her tight fingers. She offered me a glass earlier, but I declined. I’m not sure my body can handle ingesting anything else today. I’m already bloated with fear.

“Not this again.”

“You know about Lily’s sex addiction. You could have told someone.”

Ryke glares. “So do you.”

“Be real. She’s my sister. I’m not going to backstab her.”

“And she’s my brother’s girlfriend,” he snaps back. “Why don’t you focus your attention on the guy who could easily spill this information for a fucking price?”

“Don’t you dare.” Rose points a warning finger at him.

“Why? Connor came into the picture around the same time I did. He learned about her sex addiction at the same exact time as us, and he has more to gain than we do. And he has less to lose.”

“He would lose me,” Rose retorts.

I never wanted to believe that Connor could turn on me like that. I still won’t entertain the thought for longer than a second. He’s too nice (in his own way). But Ryke…

Lo scrutinizes his brother for a long moment. “Maybe Rose has a point.”

“What?” Ryke leans forward. “You can’t be serious.”

“You may be my half-brother, but you’re also a liar. I think we established that the moment we met.”

“Oh come on.”

“Let’s go back a few months. You came into my life, told me you’re some student wanting to do a fake project on heirs to billion-dollar companies—”

“Lily made that lie up,” Ryke interjects.

I gape. Way to throw me under! But I already came clean to Lo about that, so there is only a morsel of shame.

Lo rolls his eyes. “Whatever, you knew the whole time that I was your brother, and yet, you never said a word to any of us.”

“You have to be shitting me,” Ryke says. They must have had this argument multiple times while Lo was in rehab. I wasn’t allowed to visit him, but under some strange guidelines, Ryke was. I’m a little confused how their relationship has developed since I’ve been away from Lo—but clearly bitterness has festered.

Lo lets out an unhinged laugh. “I’m the bastard. I tore apart your parent’s marriage when I was born. You should hate me. I would hate me.” He takes a small breath. “And then I would build an elaborate scheme to tear me down. Piece by piece. Starting with Lily. So forgive me if I’m having a hard time trusting you one-hundred-and-ten percent.”

I can’t tell if Ryke is angry or upset by Lo’s declaration, but I know this goes beyond my silly accusation. Deep hurt fills Lo’s words.

“Really? Even after everything I’ve done while you’ve been in rehab?” Ryke asks.

“You mean keeping your cock away from my girlfriend. Yeah, thanks.”

My eyes bug. I would jerk away from Lo if his hand wasn’t pressed so tightly to my hip. Something’s wrong. I can sense it. We handle stress differently. I fuck and he drinks. Now that we can’t do either, we’re both trying to learn how to deal with it in a healthy manner. Trying is the key word here.

“You know that’s not it,” Ryke refutes.

“Sure.”

This one word makes Ryke look more livid than the past twenty, and I think this is it. Ryke is about to throw up his hands and leave. Lo tenses beside me, probably expecting the same thing. We alienate people. It’s what we’re good at.

“If I wanted to hurt you by creating some elaborate plot, I would have already screwed Lily. And I sure as hell wouldn’t bother spending time with you.”

I want to trust Ryke, mainly because he’s the only family Lo has for support, but he’s a good liar like Lo said. He even fooled me.

Lo flashes his usual bitter smile, normally accompanied with the raise of his bourbon. I can’t make sense of where his thoughts lie.

Before I can whisper in his ear to ask, the front door opens, and the silence settles like a weight. Connor’s loafers hit the hardwood, the noise heightening the tension.