“Have you talked to her?” I hear Grayson ask as they disappear inside the room.
“No. JT said she put her phone in a drawer at his house and hasn’t touched it since Thursday.”
Desperate for any information I can get about Kay, I hustle across the hall and shove my foot inside the jamb before the door can fully shut.
“What do you want, Mason?” Contempt drips from Em’s question as she folds her arms over her chest.
“You’re going to see Kay?” I ask, not intimidated by her ire in the least.
“Of course I am. Friends”—she steps close, poking with me each word—“rally around each other in their time of need.”
Fuck me.
Oh, buddy. You’ve committed one hell of a personal foul.
“Do you think we should compare notes on your stupidity?” Trav whispers into my ear, though his voice isn’t low enough not to be overheard if the slight curl to Em’s lips is any indication.
“I fucked up,” I admit, not for the first time tonight, and if I can convince Em to tell me where they are going, I doubt it will be the last.
“You got that right.” Em snorts before the brief flash of amusement is wiped clear.
Grayson, unperturbed by the audience, starts undressing. “Is it wrong I’m annoyed she didn’t tell me?” he asks Em as he pulls on a pair of dark jeans.
“She didn’t want to ruin your weekend with your family.” He grunts his displeasure at that reasoning. “If it makes you feel any better, JT said she hasn’t even spoken to E. He’s been the one fielding all the calls.”
“I can’t believe she agreed to tonight.” Grayson slips a fresh t-shirt over his head.
“I don’t think JT gave her a choice.” Em gives us her back, continuing their conversation as if Trav and I don’t exist. “He’s working the bigger picture angle.”
“How bad is it going be when he goes back to Kentucky?”
“Don’t know.” Em shrugs. “But from what I’ve been told…”
The taste of copper fills my mouth as I bite my tongue hard enough to draw blood in an effort not to demand she finish her sentence. I hate that I’m missing not just pages, but whole chapters from Kay’s story.
Grayson finishes zipping up a black hoodie and moves to stand next to Em. His six-eight frame is practically vibrating with barely restrained anger as he eyes me. The two adopt similar poses of crossed arms and death glares, and again, I’m reminded that he might be my brother in the fraternity, but he also considers himself one of Kay’s brothers.
“I’ll deal with you another time.” Grant goes to step around me. A frantic need overwhelms my body and I take a chance, reaching out to stop him with a hand to his arm.
“Where is she?”
“You lost the right to ask that,” Em snaps. This harsh, mama bear side of her is a new development.
“Emma.” I let every ounce of anguish I’ve been feeling show on my face. “I know I don’t deserve it”—I inhale deeply and send up a silent prayer—“but I’m not going to be able to fix this on my own.”
Fuck! Even with help, there’s a chance the damage I inflicted is too great.
“I…” I bring my hands to my chest, laying my palms flat over my heart. “I need to be able to fix this. Please.” I swallow thickly. “Please help me.”
Who knew silence could be so deafening? It’s heavy and stretches on and on until I think I can’t take it anymore.
Finally, Em shares a look I can’t quite read with Grayson before refocusing on me with an arched brow and a smirk. I should probably heed the warning, but my drive to get to Kay is too strong.
“It’s your funeral.”
#Chapter10
Excited murmuring spreads throughout the lot as a buzz of anticipation permeates the atmosphere. It’s enough to break me out of my own antisocial haze.
From my seat, I can’t make out what’s going on, but the way the crowd is swarming suggests it’s a new arrival who’s stirring things up. I’m not the only one who has taken note of the change. They aren’t being overly obvious about it, only shifting to lean forward in their seats, elbows braced on their knees, hands hanging limply between them, but all the Royals around the bonfire are on high alert.
“You invited people from BA?” I speak for the first time in the hours since we arrived, directing my question to Carter since he runs the show.
BA, Blackwell Academy, is the most expensive and exclusive private school in the state. It also happens to be on the opposite side of town from Blackwell Public, where we all graduated from. The rivalry between the schools and their students runs as deep as any generations-old family grudge.
Luckily for them, their money is green, and Carter allows them in the races. Whoever arrived must have a car nice enough to rival King’s based on the reaction.
“No.” His jaw is hard, part of it popping out from how he has it clenched. Carter King embodies every bad boy persona mothers warn their daughters about. He’s got a Cam Gigandet vibe to him with his short buzzed blond hair hidden underneath his black beanie, snug black t-shirt, ripped jeans, classic Jordans G would kill for, and leather jacket. “With you being here, I didn’t want to risk having that many unknowns around. I’ll take those rich douches’ money next weekend.”
This time it’s shock that renders me speechless.
Carter chuckles at my slack-jawed expression. “I get that we aren’t BFFs, Dennings, but”—he cranes his neck to look past me to where I can hear Savvy laughing with T—“you have always been good to my sister, and you know how I feel about my family.”
Unexpected emotion chokes me. The King siblings may not be orphans like
