Page 30 of A Little Jaded
“Because I don’t want my family to know I was dating Drake, and if I go to the police, it’ll blow things out of proportion, and they’ll find out, and…” I tuck my trembling hands beneath my thighs again, unsure what else to say.
“He beat the shit out of you,” Everett growls. “I don’t think calling the police is blowing anything out of proportion.”
“I don’t want to involve them,” I repeat. “Please.”
“What are you hiding?” Everett demands.
“Everett,” Reeves warns. “Let it go.”
Everett tosses his hands into the air. “This is bullshit!”
“Let. It. Go,” Reeves pushes, setting down his empty bowl of cereal. “Besides, until things blow over with Dylan’s investigation, it’s probably best we all lay low, too.”
I frown and turn to Dylan as Finley explains, “Reeves’ dad is a dirty cop who planted cocaine in the back of his car, thinking it would ruin his NHL career, but Dylan decided to say it was hers, so it blew up in his face, and now there’s an ongoing investigation.”
“It’s a whole…”—Dylan grimaces—“thing.”
“Athing,” I repeat. “Got it.”
Reeves smirks back at me and squeezes Dylan’s shoulders. “At least you know you’re in good company, right?”
I’d smile back at him if I didn’t feel the anger emanating from the guy across the room. A vein throbs in Everett’s forehead as he stares at me, but he keeps his lips pressed intoa thin line when I finally meet his gaze. I know he wants to ask. I know he wants to push. I know he wants to make demands. To pry. To force the truth from my frozen vocal chords, even if it’s the last thing he does.
But he doesn’t. He simply…stares at me. Making me want to squirm. Making me want to spill all my secrets, no matter how pathetic they are.
“For now, we need to figure out where you’ll be staying,” Dylan points out.
She’s right. If I can’t go back to my place, where can I go?
Nibbling on the edge of my thumb, careful not to snag my bottom lip, I lift a shoulder, unsure what to say. “Like I said, I don’t, uh, I don’t want my parents to know I’ve been sharing my life with an abusive asshole.”
“You can stay with us,” Finley offers.
“Where?” Griffin challenges. His attention darts to me. “No offense.”
With a laugh, I reply, “None taken.”
“Seriously, though,” Dylan starts. “My brother’s right. I’m staying with Reeves. Mav and Lia are in his room. Griff is already sharing with Everett, and Finley isn’t exactly a picnic to sleep next to.”
“Hey!” She smacks her best friend on the shoulder. “Rude.”
“I’m just sayin’ you’re a sleep talker,” Dylan argues. “A really noisy one who likes to kick and steal the covers.”
“Gee, thanks.” Finley rolls her eyes but quickly sobers. “There’s always Archer’s room…”
The words are hushed. Tense. And laced with regret as soon as they’re spoken, causing a haze of discomfort to fall on the room. And I hate that I put it there. Maybe not literally. I didn’t suggest Archer’s room as a potential refuge, but the only reason it was offered is because I have a shitty ex and no place to stay.
“I’ll figure something out,” I announce. “If I could maybe use the couch for a night or something, that’d be great. But even then?—”
“I know where she can stay,” Everett interrupts.
My head swivels toward him as Finley asks, “Where?”
“Yeah, where?” Dylan chimes in.
“The cabin.”
Like the Fourth of July, Finley’s eyes light up, and she claps her hands. “Yes! Why didn’t I think of the cabin? It’s perfect, and Mom and Dad left last week. Ohmygod, Raine, you’re going to love it. It’s secluded and gorgeous, and—wait. Your car has four-wheel drive, right?”