Page 25 of Rent Free

Everything is figureoutable.

—Pepper to Everest

PEPPER

I wasn’t sure how it happened, but somehow, I got roped into taking five children to Texas Roadhouse.

And I was in a minivan.

A communal minivan.

“No one actually wants to drive a minivan,” Atlas was being nice for once, likely because of the children in the vehicle with us. “So we all chipped in some money—not me, though, since I don’t have kids—and bought this. That way if there are more kids than our vehicles can handle, then we can drive this instead.”

“No kids.” I snorted. “Thank God for that.”

His brows rose. “Why?”

I glanced over at him, then back to see that all the kids were engrossed with the movie that was playing on the twenty-two-inch screen protruding from the ceiling, and then turned back to him.

“Because I wouldn’t want you to raise a kid with your morals and lack of insight.” I crossed my arms over my chest.

“Lack of insight?” he asked, sounding amused.

“Lack of opening your freakin’ eyes,” I explained. “Your utter blind spot where it comes to my sister.”

He frowned. “I don’t have a blind spot when it comes to your sister.”

“You have something when it comes to my sister, and whatever it is, it’s not good.” I shrugged.

He chuckled. “We have a thirty-minute drive. How about you enlighten me,” he suggested.

I glanced backward again to make sure we didn’t have any kids listening—we didn’t—and then let him have it.

“One, you’re allowing a pathological liar—literally, she was diagnosed with this as a child—deeper and deeper into your life. You’re protecting her, and she likes it. You’re falling for all of her lies. You’re treating her like a good person, and she’s not. If you knew even half the things that she’d done to me as a child, you wouldn’t be able to stand near her you’d be so disgusted,” I started.

“What’s a pathological liar?” Addison asked.

I closed my eyes.

“It’s a behavior where a person feels a compulsion to lie,” Atlas explained.

“Oh, like your compulsions?” Addison asked. “Like when you have to ring the doorbell three times? Or when you have to retrace your steps before you leave?”

“Kind of,” Atlas looked at me.

I’d known that he’d had issues.

I hadn’t realized he’d had OCD tendencies, though.

Maybe that was why he got along so well with my sister. Because she had issues like him.

Though, I was sure that Atlas’s issues didn’t ruin people’s lives like Sage’s.

“Okay.”

Atlas turned his gaze back to the road at Addison’s dismissal.

“Ask,” he suggested.

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