Page 20 of Sins and Secrets

Waverly

Adam’sstill in my home. Hisstupid beamer, which he calls “Light Beam”, is in his parking spot. I don’t want to go in there. Not alone at least. And the problem hasn’t changed—who can I call for help? Fortunately this time I’m not in a rage-stupor and in emotional overload. When I’m in a potentially dangerous situation, I know exactly who to call.

Ten minutes later, an armored SUV pulls into the parking spot next to me and Izzy slides out of the passenger seat. She’s got her hair in a messy bun that contrasts the blazer and leggings. It’s a mix of hot mess and professional only she can pull off.

When she was gone, I thought about her every day. I hated missing out on watching her son, Drew, grow up. Since she came back, it’s been nothing but family dinners, running away from stalker exes, and an explosion. Literally.

She opens my door and yanks me out into a bear hug. “We’re here for you.”

“Thanks.” Her embrace mends some of those breaks which have been exposed for way too long.

“I’m not trying to brag, but I give excellent breakup support. I’ve got all the streaming services, we can binge anything. Want a horror comedy?Shawn of the DeadorTucker and Dale versus Evilare always excellent go-tos..Maybe a comedy? Again I recommendTucker and Dale.You can never go wrong with Alan Tudyk.”

Alana walks around from the driver’s side of the car. “A truersentence has never been spoken.”

She gives me an assessing glance. Alana King strikes fear into everyone in the Four Families, except me. No one knows her history, except maybe Lance. She never smiles or laughs. It’s all a hard exterior she uses to keep herself alive. She’s tall like a model with sleek blonde hair that must take her forever to get straight in the morning.Under her coat’s sleeve, there’s a black arm brace. She broke her arm and lost the Mastodon Security headquarters all in one minute. And here she is, because I called like a sad little puppy.

“Rough day?” she asks, linking her elbow around mine, and her perpetual frozen glare warms to a balmy thirty-five degrees. This is the nicest she’s ever been to me.

“Started out at a graveyard, then a breakup, followed by almost getting hit by a car, which culminated in learning I’ve been wrong for five years. Yeah, it's been rough.” I add, “Oh, and I had a sugar-free, vegan cookie of sadness—easily the third worst thing that happened today.”

Izzy holds me closer. “I’m so sorry sweetie. Let’s go inside and talk about it.” She mumbles under her breath, “Fucking dirt cookies.”

Alana puts her hands in her pockets as she leads us to my home. I’m not sure what I expect to find. Maybe everything will be trashed. Maybe he’s stolen all my stuff. All my valuable stuff is at Dad’s house. I guess the fact I didn’t trust Adam to be around my jewelry should’ve been a red flag a while ago. I don’t know why I’m afraid, other than confrontation makes my tummy all twisty and turny.

Alana opens the door first and steps inside.

Adam comes running down the stairs, fully dressed. The Michael Kors purse isn’t on the kitchen table.

“Baby! You’re back!” he basically sings. But he stops short on the stairs. “Who are you?”

Alana doesn’t answer. Instead, she holds her spot between Adam and me. His eyebrows twitch in the way they do when he doesn’t get what he wants. My stomach sinks.

Adam pulls his glare from Alana to give me a pleading gesture of remorse, complete with a quivering lower lip. “Look, baby, I don’t know what you think happened, but you’re wrong.”

“Oh, you weren’t fucking a woman who drank my La Croix?” I cross my arms in a power pose I’ve seen Alana and Dad do a million times.

“No, you’ve got it all wrong.”

“Hey, dipshit, there are cameras everywhere. You wanna try again?”Each word from Alana’s lips freezes the air around her.

Adam points to Alana with his thumb. “Who the fuck is this bitch?”

The tummy tingles explode into fireworks. Behind me, Izzy whispers, “Oh shit,” and pulls out her phone. “Daddy, hi. I’m at Waverly’s place. Poor choices are being made… And Alana’s here.”

Over the speaker, Izzy’s dad says, “I’ll have some guys over in ten minutes. How many bags will we need?”

“One,” Izzy says without hesitation. She covers the phone with her hand and leans toward me. “You might not be able to play in the reindeer games with the boys, but you get all the prizes anyway.”

Adam jumps the last two steps and I lean into my friends as they shift their weight in front of me again. I’m the cheese in an Izzy and Alana protective sandwich.

His voice cracks as he goes into full begging mode. “Waverly, we can work this out.” It’s such a rare side of him.

For an instant, I consider I might be overreacting. When Izzy squeezes my arm, I realize I’m not alone. More importantly, I’m not wrong.

“I don’t want to.”

He implores me, “You’re going to throw away three years because I fucked up once.”

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