Page 70 of Love Me Reckless

“It’s a fair question.”

“Sawyer’s not looking for a handout.” Grayson’s words fill my mind.They’re not our people, you know that, right?

“Are you aware that he has a history of violent behavior?” Birch asks.

Violent?I try to reconcile this idea with the person I know but it’s impossible. Though Sawyer did say he used to fight to protect his little brother, maybe Birch doesn’t have all the facts.

“Or that his mother died under suspicious circumstances?” Birch adds.

I try to slow down my thoughts with a drink of water. “Suspicious how?”

“Some sort of accident involving an ex-boyfriend.”

My heart drops into my lap and the room seems to brighten, making me wince. Accident that caused her death… as in she was killed? I want to ask for more details, but talking about it like this feels wrong. Disrespectful. And truthfully, I care very little abouthowit happened.

I want to know how Sawyer and his brother survived something so terrible. Sawyer must have been terrified. They were suddenly alone. Who took care of them? Who helped them make sense of something so tragic? How did they heal?

“His brother has been in and out of jail,” Birch says, stirring his ice. “Mostly for theft.”

Our waiter brings our lunch, and a fresh drink for Birch. I use the moments of quiet to collect my thoughts.

“Bon appetit,” Jean Marc says.

“Thank you,” I say.

My soup smells incredible, but eating it feels wrong given what I’ve just heard and the questions running through my mind.

“How do you know all of this?” I ask.

“The usual ways.”

“I don’t know what that means.” Has he done this kind of intelligence gathering on all my friends?

Birch glances up from cutting a tomato. “It’s not for you to worry about. I just want to caution you. Keep your credit cards and your banking information to yourself. Don’t loan him money. Don’t offer to buy him expensive items he could resell.”

Is this why he insisted I start using the home safe at his Grayhawk house?

“Stop.” My stomach winds so tight it’s hard to get a breath. “Please.”

“You’re too easy of a target, Kirilee,” he says in that warning voice. “It’s my job to protect you.”

Too easy of a targetrattles around in my brain. I shake my head. “Protect me, or my money?”

“Ourmoney.” He slides a bite of tuna into his mouth. “Money you enjoy using for your causes. For bachelorette parties and ski trips and pottery supplies. Money your family has worked very hard to make.”

He’s right, I know he is. But he’s going about this all wrong. Maybe it’s naïve and another example of how I’m “too trusting” butSawyer wouldn’t steal from me or coerce me into giving him money.

“He’s my friend,” I manage. Doesn’t Birch know how awful this feels talking about someone I care about like he’s not trustworthy?

“Keep your guard up. If you suspect anything, promise you’ll tell me.”

It’s like he hasn’t heard me. “Why, what will you do?”

“I’ll handle it.”

A chill zips down my spine. “Please tell me you haven’t approached him.”

The look he gives me makes it clear that he’s considered doing so. “I will if I need to.”

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