Eventually, I pull out my Lit textbook to do some reading. Lucas leaves for a couple of minutes and comes back with his own books. We sit there quietly, each doing our own schoolwork until he receives a text. I’m so engrossed in the story, reading past where I’m supposed to have read that the buzzing of Lucas’s phone makes me jump. “Sorry,” he says. He pulls it out and glowers down at the screen. “For fuck’s sake.”
He pushes his textbooks off him and stands, heading for the door. He leaves without looking back, and I can’t not follow him with that type of exit. I close my textbook and jump to my feet. Using the remote, I raise the blinds. The sun hits me, and I have to shield my eyes like a vampire. I lost track of time while we were studying, but I bet Lucas and I were in this room for hours. Probably the most amount of time I spent with anyone outside of Dad and Dickie.
How sad is that?
I move down the hall to find Wyatt and Lucas standing on either side of the front door. They’re staring at the floor, but that’s not what’s caught their attention. It’s what’s happening outside the front door that has. Through the sheer curtains, I see a row of TV vans lining the driveway along with dozens and dozens of cameramen.
Wyatt reaches out and pulls me next to him and Lucas, using the front door to shield us. Outside, though, the reporters talk over each other until the cold voice of Lance Jacobs drones over all of them. My body chills.
“Calm down, calm down,” he says, chuckling. “I know everyone wants to hear treasure news but just breathe.”
I roll my eyes. My father and I would watch the news with his face plastered all over it when anything regarding the treasure came up. My father would sit in his ripped armchair and seethe, his fingers curling into the dusty, dirty, outdated material while Lance Jacobs smiled into a camera with a suit on. Even at a young age, I could tell the difference between them. I could see the way my father reacted to him, and since my world revolved around him, the hate grew in me, too.
“What news do you have for us about the treasure? Did you find it?” an eager reporter asks.
“Not fucking likely,” I grumble under my breath, unable to help myself. The idea is preposterous to me. First, he’d have to actually search to find the treasure, and the only reason Lance makes his way up here is for photo and media opportunities just like this.
“Not yet,” he says, oblivious to the words that spewed from my mouth. He’s oozing with charm now, and it makes me want to vomit. “I’ve been waiting a long time to bring you this news, and I’m happy to say that I can finally announce it.”
It’s a whole different experience listening to Lance talk to the press in person. It makes it much more real than watching him through an old, flickering TV screen. It’s harder. It makes me angrier because it’s happening right under my nose.
“Well?” the same eager reporter asks, and I wonder if she has more important places to be. Don’t we all? I can think of a hundred different things I’d rather be doing than listening to Lance.
“As of today, the Jacobs and Wilder families are joining forces to search for the elusive Clary treasure.”
“What?” I exclaim, the question bursting from my mouth in surprise.
Lucas grabs for my hand, squeezing it as Lance keeps talking. “I have no doubt with our combined resources that the Clary treasure is within our grasp. The legend won’t be a legend for long, my friends.”
I heave in a breath of air. Several, actually. I can barely hear him talking through the buzzing in my brain. I knew what teaming up with them meant, but I didn’t think it would be a big deal. I didn’t think he’d tell the world. Dear God, if my father is somewhere where he can hear this, he’ll hate me.
“The Wilders?” someone asks. “The feud between your families is well-publicized. How did this come about?”
Another reporter asks. “Isn’t that a risky business decision, Mr. Jacobs? The Wilder family has a less-than-stellar reputation.”
I squeeze Lucas’s hand so hard that he turns toward me. More questions and insults are being thrown at my family while Lucas moves to stand in front of me. He tips my chin toward him. “Dakota,” he whispers. “Focus on me.”
Tears gather in the corners of my eyes as I stare into Lucas’s soft brown irises. I made a huge mistake. I want to throw the door open and tell them all it’s not real, but I’ll just be playing into their hands if I do. After all, they already think my dad is crazy. Now I will be, too.
Another voice splits through them all. It’s not Lance’s, but it’s as confident as his. It’s teeming with sense and savvy. It cuts through all the others with a definitive tenor. “The Wilders are treasure hunting legends,” Stone says. “We’re happy to be working with them. Now, if you’ll excuse my father and I, we have a tremendous amount of planning to do.”
The door opens a crack, and the erratic voices of the reporters aren’t so muffled anymore. They’re still yelling out questions as Lucas moves us away from the door, and the two Jacobs step inside, shutting the prying voices out, effectively shutting them up.
“You, dick,” I growl as soon as the door is closed. I free myself of Lucas’s hand and make a fist.
Lance brushes off imaginary dust from his suit jacket. “We are working together, aren’t we?”
I pull my hand back and let it loose. It flies toward Lance’s face.
