Page 61 of Clubs

Straightening, dropping Brooke’s hair into a Ziploc bag, I shrugged. “I don’t know. Didn’t feel like it was my place.”

“Right.” Standing, she propped her hands on her hips. “And yet, he thought it was his place. Why?”

“I think you’re trying to get at something here, but it’s not computing. Just explain.”

She crossed her arms against her chest. “Ria and Emory, they’re close. They’re good friends. Right?”

“Right…”

“Would you kill someone like that for a good friend?”

I paused, cocking my head to the side. “In the heat of the moment. I did for you, and I barely knew you then.”

“Right. But that was the heat of the moment. He hurt me, you saw it, and you lost your temper. And I’m not shaming him for this. It was justice. If Emory hadn’t done this, I would’ve come back and done it myself. If Ria didn’t want to, at least.”

“There’s a point here that you’re trying to make, and it’s completely going over my head.”

“It wasn’t the heat of the moment,” she said. “He had time to think before he did it, and he did it anyway. He didn’t even know for sure if this was the guy, right? Because he didn’t see it happen. But he still did it.”

“Yeah, sweetheart, we established that he did it.” My tone surely expressed my annoyance this time. “Get to the point.”

“I mean, they spend time together literally every day. They practically live up each other’s asses. And I just thought it was because they were best friends, but you wouldn’t do this for a best friend. You’d get angry over a best friend getting hurt, but you wouldn’t completely lose your shit and kill someone for the first time in your life. If you’ve done it before, if you work for the Chambers or something, maybe I can see it happening. But he hasn’t. He’s never had to defend himself like this. He didn’t need to defend her like that. But he did. So why? Why did he do it unless he’s in love with her?”

Brows raising, I crossed my arms and leaned against the edge of the sofa. “Shit.”

“Exactly my point.”

“But he’s gay.”

“Are you sure he’s not bi?”

“I’ve only ever seen him with guys, so I don’t think so.”

“Look, he’s your friend,” she said. “But you should ask him.”

“Or, we could mind our business.”

“Ria is my business.” She shot me a look. “She told me this morning that she wants to go to rehab. She’ll probably be in for thirty or sixty days, maybe ninety if we can find her a good bed. When she gets out, if she’s serious about this, she’s gonna be in a really fragile state. Losing her best friend because he has feelings for her, and she doesn’t feel the same way, could break her. Or vice versa. Say he has feelings but decides he can’t deal with an addict. Not that I don’t understand, but that’d the crush her. I want her to get it together and keep it together. So if you don’t talk to him, I’m going to.”

I frowned. That was fair. And it’d probably sound better coming from me. “Alright. I’ll talk to him. What do you want me to say? Don’t hurt her? Don’t break her heart? Or leave her alone completely?”

Brooke got quiet for a moment, no longer wiping her fingerprints off of the baseball bat she had wrecked the house with yesterday afternoon. After a few heartbeats, she met my gaze. “They really are best friends.”

“They are,” I agreed.

“If I could pick anyone for my little sister, it would be someone like Emory. He’s a good guy. He has his shit together. He drinks, but not a whole lot, and he doesn’t really do drugs.” She paused, thinking, lowering herself to sit on the sofa. “Tell him that if he’s gonna do anything, if he’s gonna pursue her, it can’t be until she has some clean time under her belt. Six months at least. Preferably longer, but at least six months. That sounds fair, doesn’t it?”

Giving a sad smile, I nodded. “I think so.”

She smiled too, but it was just as sad as mine. “I hope she does. Get clean, I mean. She’s the best person when she’s sober. She’s the best person, period. But I just don’t want her to end up in a situation like this again. I want what’s best for her, you know?”

Peeling off my gloves, I reached out to cup her cheek. “I do know.”

Her cheeks turned bright red. “What else do you know?”

Shy. She looked so shy, bashful, and adorable from down there. Looking up at me like this. We stood about the same height, so I didn’t get to feel bigger than her often. After last night though, I realized that was exactly the case. It may have been a rare occasion for me to notice it, but she looked up to me every day. She relied on me. But for a moment, I really felt it.

“What do you mean?” I asked, thumbing her chin.

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