Page 137 of A Little Secret
My muscles seize, and the blood drains from Griffin’s face as he turns around to face my brother.
Shit.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
GRIFFIN
There are moments like this, too. When you know you’ve fucked up. When you know you’ve been caught red-handed, and the reasoning behind your decisions doesn’t matter anymore. Only the fallout.
“Everett,” I start.
My best friend moves closer. His steps are slow and calculated, too deliberate to be natural. “Why. The fuck. Is Drew here?” Leaving barely an inch of space between us, he glares at me, though I doubt he wants an answer. He already knows. Hell, Finley just laid it out for him to hear.
I’m not the father. Even though everyone thinks I am. Or at least, theydid.
“Drew,” Finley’s voice echoes behind us. “I need you to leave. Now.”
“Nah, stay,” Everett orders. His attention flicks over my shoulder toward the porch. “Good to see you again, fuck face.”
Hands raised in surrender, Drew stumbles out, “L-look, I don’t want any trouble, all right?”
“Seems like it’s a little late for that,” Everett points out. He moves past me. “Did you knock my sister up?”
Ignoring her brother, Finley seethes, “Drew. Get off my porch. Now.”
“Nah, stay a sec,” Ev interrupts. “I think you and I need to have a quick…chat.”
Turning on my heel, I face the shitshow as my adrenaline pulses through my veins like I’ve pounded a dozen energy drinks.
“If you want to have a chat with anyone, I’m pretty sure it’s me,” Finley argues. “And if you’ll let me explain…”
“Let me get this straight.” Scratching his temple with his forefinger, Everett cocks his head. “Griff isn’t the father. You are.”
“Exactly.” The asshole fucking beams like he won the lottery or some shit. And maybe he did. Because while he was burying his head in the sand, I was busy painting a target on my back, and I’m not sure there’s anything I can do to erase it. Not after everything I’ve done. Everything I’ve lied about. Everyone I’ve lied to.
“Ev,” I start.
Without facing me, Everett lifts his index finger, urging me to give him a second as he continues his interrogation. “You cheat on her, too?”
The blood drains from Drew’s face. “Wait, I didn’t?—”
“You tell her to get rid of the baby?” Everett prods.
“Ev,” Finley pleads.
“Answer the question,” Everett pushes.
“I, uh…”
“That’s all I need to hear.” Glancing at me, Everett asks, “You gonna do the honors, or do I need to?” Surprise flashes through me, and Everett must see it because he drops his voice lower, his eyes shining with defeat. “We’ll deal with our shit later.”
I give him a nod, then face Drew. My need to avenge Fin for all the shit he said to her the last time they spoke drowns out the familiar guilt of betrayal as it pulses through me. He really is a sniveling little bitch. He’s here because he’s scared of his parents? What an asshole. Fisting my hand at my side, I growl, “If I see you on this porch again without an explicit invitation, I’ll beat the shit out of you. We clear?”
“Y-you’re not the boss of?—”
A bone-crunching sound echoes on the porch as I deck Drew in the nose and watch the blood pour onto his pressed button-up shirt. “Get off Finley’s property. Now.”
As he stumbles away, I unclench my fist and stretch my fingers wide. The familiar ache of my bruised knuckles spreads across the back of my hand. It’s a good hurt. A deliberate hurt. And if I’m feeling it, so is Drew. Good. If only it would distract me from my best friend’s pissed-off presence.