Page 63 of The Enemy Plot

“Sorry. It’s Deacon. Is Lola with you?”

“Deacon?” she asks, sounding puzzled. “No, why would she be?”

I hear voices murmuring through the speaker, and the buzzer lets me know I can push the door open.

“What’s going on?” Alice asks, coming down the steps in her pink satin pajamas.

“I can’t find Lola,” I rasp, holding the wall for support. “She’s not home, and she’s not at the bar. I don’t know what’s going on.”

Her face falls. Then, she hurries back up the stairs. “Hold on. I’ll check her socials.”

“What?” My voice booms, reverberating between the staircase walls as I follow after her. “What are you talking about? I’ve forbidden her from using social media. You know that!”

She winces, turning around. “I know, but she created an account anyway.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I snap, my volume reaching dangerous levels.

“Sorry,” she says, unlocking her phone in a hurry. “I figured it was better to let her keep it and friend her. At least one of us would have an in.”

My entire body starts to boil as I point a finger at her. “Don’t make parenting decisions about my niece.” My tone is sharp, cold—the exact opposite of how I’m feeling right now.

Our eyes meet for a second. “D—do you want me to look?” she asks, her bottom lip trembling.

I rake a hand through my hair. “Yes.”

I can’t believe this is happening. On what planet did Alice think it was a good idea to keep me in the dark about something like that? The fact that Lola created an account behind my back is disappointing, but she’s a teenager. Alice is supposed to be an adult. I follow her upstairs and pace around their living room while she checks her phone.

“I got it. She was just at Joe’s Fast-Food Joint with that boy from school. I think they might be going out.”

“What?” My blood is now boiling over, spilling around me until I’m trapped in smoldering lava. “This is all your fault! You and your stupid books put all these dreams and expectations in her head. She’s fourteen!”

She swallows hard. “I’m sorry, Deacon. But she’s a good kid, and she won’t do anything stupid. Let’s go to therestaurant. She only posted fifteen minutes ago, so maybe they’re still there.”

“No,” I bark, seeing nothing but red. “I’mgoing. You’ve done enough. I thought it was a good idea to bring you into Lola’s life—into mine—but I was wrong. Look where we are now! What was I thinking? I can’t do this. Lola needs stability and mature role models. You’re pretty much still a kid yourself!”

I gave Lola a bit of liberty for one night so I could be with Alice, and now I’m paying for it. I thought Alice would be a positive influence, but instead, she turned me into a bad parent. My relationship with her is impacting my decision making, and I can’t have anything happen to Lola.I just can’t.

Without even sparing a glance back, I storm out of the apartment as fast as possible. I need to find Lola.

Alice

The door closes with a loud thud, and I fall to my knees. I’m pretty sure tears are rolling down my cheeks, but I can barely feel them. All I feel is pain, emptiness, worry. And guilt. A lot of guilt.

An arm wraps around me, and I immediately recognize Emma’s amber perfume. “Are you okay? That was brutal.”

I open my mouth to speak, but I can’t. Instead, more tears blur my vision, and I bury my face in Emma’s neck.

When the front door flies open, I raise my head, thinking it’s Deacon coming back. But it’s Hayley. She hurries to my other side, comforting me.

I don’t know how long we stay like that. Probably until I finally stop crying.

“He’s right, you know,” I whimper. “I’m not mature enough for him, for Lola. I can’t be a girlfriend and a substitute mom. Now look what I’ve done. I should have told Deacon about her Instagram account.”

“Come on. It’s not your fault,” Emma says, rubbing my back. “You didn’t tell her to run away, nor did you encourage it. You decided that earning Lola’s trust and keeping it was more important. And if you ask me, that was a good call.”

“For sure,” Hayley says. “If you’d told him, he would have forced her to delete it, and she would have just made another one. At least she trusted you enough to give you her handle and accept your follow request. How else would you have figured out where she is tonight?”

“Exactly,” Emma says. “If I were Lola, I’d have opened another account five minutes after deleting the first one. You did the right thing.”