Page 95 of Daring You

He’s right. I could tell him I’m taking steroids, and he’d still be there for me.

“I…”

I can’t tell him about Ryan. There’s too little known about the killers’ affiliations and who waits for the verdict in the shadows. I can’t put him, Carter, and Lily at risk.

It’s a nightmare, picturing men in black clothes breaking in to their insecure, creaking, second-floor brownstone apartment that slopes slightly because of its sagging weight. Having them tied to chairs. Tortured the way Rose and Tim Delaney were. Lily, screaming for her mom. Crying out for her dad, Locke, to save her…

Daddy! Daddy, help Momma! Help Momma!

I—I can’t son. I’m so sorry, I—Punch. Smack—Ryan, close your eyes. Close them, there’s a good boy—A crowbar, crunching against bone.

I’d never forgive myself.

“It’s about Astor,” I say thickly.

I expect Locke to angle his head, maybe pierce me with questions. After all, what does his sister have to do with anything?

Instead, his stare narrows, and, if possible, goes flat. “Oh, yeah?”

I swallow. At no point is Astor going to burst in here and do the dirty work. She made her choice clear when she failed to show this morning.

“Something happened between us.”

Silence.

I grind my teeth, unwilling to be a coward and look away from my friend. But he isn’t giving me any sort of emotion, anything to let me know what he’s thinking.

He says, at last, “I know.”

My jaw unlocks. “You do?”

“I was wondering when you’d ever admit it to me.”

Oh man, do I ever have to tread carefully. “When did you find out?”

“You joking?” At my naked surprise, he continues, “Pretty much that week.”

“Week?”

“It’s not like the pictures didn’t make it to my side of the dorm.”

“The—“ Oh. Oh, motherfucking shit. “During sophomore year, you mean.”

“As soon as they hit my desk, the minute I saw my sister, wrapped in a sheet, standing beside you, I wanted to rip your fucking dick off.”

I swallow—more like gulp. “Um. But you didn’t. Hell, you didn’t say a word to me, bro.” It finally hits me. “What the fuck? This entire time, you knew? You knew what happened and you didn’t say shit?”

“Not for you.” Locke stands, and the look he gives me…shit. I never thought that kind of coldness could reach his eyes. But then, he’s a Hayes, just like Astor. “Not a goddamned reason for you. It was for her. My sister.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Mom was sick. Her prognosis wasn’t good, and Astor, as much as she likes to pretend otherwise, wasn’t handling it well. Falling apart, actually. My beating you up, maybe amputating a leg, wasn’t going to make it better for her. I wanted her to tell me, to come to me and talk about it, if she chose to. There wasn’t a whole lot to go on, with that picture. You were fully clothed. She was as white as the sheets she was wrapped in. I wanted her to tell me what went on, not hear it through college gossip.”

“And did she?”

“No.” Locke crosses his arms. “Not a word from her. But I’m not stupid, man. I know what was said about her around campus, how she was made fun of. She was too smart for the morons who gave her that stupid fucking nickname. Too intimidating for those scrawny-assed dickfucks who thought they could belittle my sister and get away with it.”

“I remember. We beat many a stupid boy up.”

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