Page 43 of You Belong With Me

Lucas glances up at the house and pulls his phone out of his back pocket. “Why are they here?”

“I don’t know. They wouldn’t tell us,” Christian says. “Maybe Gabriel filed charges for the ass-kicking he just got…?”

“Nah,” Lucas says. “The cops wouldn’t show up for that kind of bullshit.”

Christian shifts on his feet. “What aren’t you telling me, brother?”

Instead of answering, Lucas tilts his head back and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Fuck, I should call my lawyer.”

“Jackson already called him,” Christian says. “He’s on his way.”

Anxiety takes root in my chest. “Why are they here, Lucas?” I ask, because, like Christian, I get the feeling he’s not telling us something.

Lucas doesn’t answer. Instead, he flicks his chin at the house. “I’ve gotta handle this,” he says. “My brother will take you back to your apartment.” He glances at Christian. “Can you stay with her in case Gabriel pops up?”

Anxiety switches quickly to panic. “Wait, no,” I say, grabbing Lucas’ arm. “I’m going with you.”

With a firm grip, he forcibly pulls my hand off his arm. “Go with my brother, Wyn. It’s not up for discussion.”

I press my lips together and scowl at him. I don't like it, but I have no choice but to watch Lucas turn and head toward the house alone.

“What do you think the police want with him?” I ask Christian, my eyes riveted on Lucas’ retreating form. “Did it sound serious?”

Maybe the police just want clarification related to Gabriel’s case? That’s plausible, right? Normally, I’d run with that theory, but I can see the worry in Christian’s eyes. Whatever this is, it’s serious.

Christian pushes out a breath, also watching his brother. “They had a warrant for his arrest.”

When those words leave his mouth, my stomach drops, and the ground beneath my feet shifts. “A warrant? Forwhat?”

Christian looks at me. “I don’t know.”

Tears sting my eyes, and when I speak, I know my voice trembles. “What can we do to stop this?”

“Don’t worry. He has the best lawyer on the West Coast, no lie. He’ll know what to do.”

He sounds calm, but I can hear the thread of fear in his voice, too, and that’s what gets me. Admittedly, I don’t know much about the inner workings of Lucas’ world but knowonething for sure—if a Sacred Son is afraid, then we’re fucked. They’re so wealthy and so well-connected that fear isn’t even a word in their vocabulary…

Until they encounter a situation they can’t control.

Christian starts walking up the beach, away from Rush House, toward a path that leads to the street. It’s clear that he’s trying to keep me away from the house. Probably so the police don’t see me.

“Come on,” Christian says. “I’ll take you home. If you have anything inside the house, I can send someone over with it later?—”

By the time he turns around, I’m already halfway across the beach. My footsteps are silent on the sand, which gives me a head start on Christian. When he turns and sees I’m not following him, I hear him curse under his breath and chase after me, just as I enter the foot of the path that leads back up to the house.

It’s dark, and I’m barefoot, but that gives me an advantage, allowing me to bob and weave quickly up the rough, sandy path. I collide with a few bushes and step on several rocks, but with adrenaline pumping through my veins, I don’t feel any pain.

Christan curses again, picking his way through the darkness. When I reach the lawn, I run around the side of the house and make a beeline for the front door, which is open. Several police officers stand around on the porch—two dozen, at least.

Then I see him. Lucas. He’s on the porch, his back facing me as a police officer reads him his rights, and handcuffs are being tightened around his wrists.

I rush up the stairs, but I’m stopped before I can even make it to the third step.

“Whoa, stop right there,” a police officer says, reaching out to block me from passing. “You need to step back and wait on the street.”

“No, this is a mistake,” I choke out. “Lucas hasn’t done anything. Why are you arresting him? I demand to know.”

With an outstretched arm, the police officer pushes me back, so I’m forced to step down the stairs backward until I’m on the lawn. Lucas hears me and turns to look over his shoulder, but before I can read his expression, he’s yanked off the porch, down the stairs, and across the lawn to a waiting police car.

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