Page 138 of Ruthless Lullaby

I frown, confused. "So...?"

"So, no one’s going to tell me what I can and can’t do here," he says with a wave of his hand. "I'm one of the hosts, tonight!"

I raise an eyebrow. "What about Maron? He's not going be happy about this, Maurice."

"He won't find out," Maurice insists, "because you’re not gonna tell him, right?" For a moment he looks like he's about to start drunk-bawling, which only makes my discomfort grow. From a distance, Maurice may look like he has it all together, but I know better now. It’s clear that he’s still not in a good place. "I need to talk to you, Mindy."

"About what?" I ask, desperately searching for an alibi to escape this conversation.

Maurice leans in close, slurring his words. "So, you and my brother are fucking after all, huh?" His breath smells like a rundown bar and I internally cringe. "Come on, Mindy, don’t take me for a fool."

Shit.

So, he knows.

I struggle to find the words. How am I supposed to respond to that? Maron and I agreed to sit down with him and come clean, but only after the event. Maron didn’t want him to be distracted while they were working on the launch. So, I keep quiet and Maurice takes my silence as confirmation.

"So, it’s true! What's it like, hooking up with Maron then, huh?" he grins, clearly enjoying making me squirm. "Do you guys fuck every night?"

"I'm not having this conversation, Maurice," I try brushing off his comments.

But he doesn’t back down. He places a hand on my arm, desperation gleaming in his eyes. "Mindy, I need you to listen to me." I really don’t want to listen. All I want to do is stand up, find Maron, and warn him that his brother is drunk and may pose a threat to the entire launch party. But Maurice is blocking my way, pleading for my attention. "Look, I’m really sorry for your loss."

This catches me off guard. "Thank you," I tell him. I assume he is referring to my mother. I just hope he hasn’t heard about my miscarriage.

He pauses before responding, "Alexis told me about your mom."

“Alexis?” I raise an eyebrow in surprise. "Since when do you know my sister?"

"Oh… we text sometimes," he admits. "She's a nice girl."

I can feel my eyebrows shooting even further up. "You and Alexis text sometimes? What do you mean, Maurice?"

He hesitates. "Well, we have some mutual friends…"

"Like mutual drug dealer friends?" I finish his sentence.

He doesn't reply. He just takes a step closer and reaches for me again, in an attempt to pull me close. "Your sister may be nice, but it's you I love, Mindy." I back away, repulsed by the stench of booze on his breath. "I'm sorry for all the dumb shit I did. If you could just forgive me-"

"Stop it, Maurice," I snap, my voice sharp with growing unease. "You're obviously drunk." Suddenly, a sickening realization hits me. "Maurice," I ask hesitantly, "have you and Alexis... hooked up?"

His face turns a deep crimson as he avoids my gaze. “Well,” he mumbles, his words slurred, “we dated a few times.”

Dated?

What the hell?

My heart sinks and a cold fear grips my chest. If these two have been together, it could only mean one thing: all the secrets are out. None of them can be trusted - Alexis or Maurice - both addicts who will do anything to get their next fix. This explains everything. No wonder Alexis knows about Tramoxine. No wonder she’s here. Maurice obviously told her about the event and what was happening behind the scenes.

Oh God, please don't let this be happening.

"She's cool, you know?" he says. "And the two of you... you're so alike. Being with her only makes me think of you more."

I feel bile rising in my throat. Maurice’s presence is suffocating, like a heavy weight pressing down on my chest. I can only hope Maron doesn’t suddenly appear, turning this already chaotic situation into complete mayhem. Scanning the room, I spot a small door, leading to a secluded area. I grab Maurice by the arm and pull him into the cramped room, slamming the door behind us. We’re alone now, hidden from prying eyes and ears.

My voice quivers as I confront Maurice, my fingers clenched into white-knuckled fists. "Maurice," I hiss, my brows drawn in a fierce scowl, "have you told Alexis about the Tramoxine launch?"

"No," he stutters, his voice wavering unconvincingly. It’s obvious that he’s lying.

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