Page 22 of Sins and Secrets

He was a safe option. I knew him, and figured since he was Angie’s brother, I knew exactly what I was getting. He was like a pink scrunchie I found on a discount rack. A quick impulse purchase I used to pull my hair up because it was windy on the walk to my car and somehow never took off. Suddenly, without me noticing, it became my whole personality. I was Waverly, the girl with a pink scrunchie.

Alana returns, grabs the remote, and hits pause. “We need to talk.”

Nothing ever good comes from ‘we need to talk.’ It’s never, ‘we need to talk, how do you feel about glitter-pooping, rainbow puppies?’ Because I would definitely say, ‘Glitter shit sounds awful, what if it gets into the carpet?’ But even I can tell this isn’t that kind of conversation.

Alana always looks serious, but when Uri’s upset, I know it’s bad. He drops a baggie of purple powder on the coffee table. There’s not a lot of it, maybe half a teaspoon. The knot in my gut twists and tightens. A sense of dread washes over me.

“Do you know what this is?”Uri says.

I shake my head. “No, I’ve never seen it before.”

Alana and Uri exchange glances like they’re reading each other’s minds “Does Adam have any tattoos?” Alana asks.

“No.” He wants to be as opposite from his brother as possible.

Alana exhales and her shoulders relax. “This is Majesty.”

Izzy gasps. This stuff almost killed Lance a few months ago when he gave CPR to a client who OD'd on the stuff. The family’s been whispering about it for years. Apparently, there’s this guy The Deviant, or some equally stupid, scary name—who's been attempting to get this stuff on the streets. The Four Families won’t sell it. Their decision pissed off The Deviant and he’s been trying to hurt us ever since. Until now he’s been a vague boogeyman, like lots of things about today, I’m wrong, and there’s evidence to prove it.

I recoil. Dad has rules about powder drugs… all the Uncles do. Pot and edibles were a little different, yet if we were found with powder-based drugs, we wouldn’t be able to walk for weeks. It happened to a few of my dad’s guys. Step 1: beat the shit out of them, step 2: treatment, step 3: if there’s a relapse, no more sympathy.

Again, mob life has a terrible mental health plan.

“Where did you find it?” It seems alien sitting next to my phone and remote.

Uri clears his throat. “It was in one of Adam’s drawers.” He walks around the side of the couch and stops in front of me, picking up the packet before he sits. “You’re sure he doesn’t have a tattoo, maybe of the letter M somewhere?”

Well this is insulting. “I’ve seen him naked every night for three years, he doesn’t have a tattoo.”

Uri nods and relaxes a little. “Then he’s not a dealer, but he is a user. Have you noticed any changes in him recently?”

“You mean besides sticking his dick into someone else? No.”

Alana shakes her head. “I’ve been so focused on everything else, I never even considered looking at Adam.” She squeezes my shoulder. “He might become dangerous, especially if he knows we found this. Pack your stuff and you’ll stay with me for a little while. At least until we can get this all sorted.”

Twenty-four hours ago, I had a home, a boyfriend (a shitty one but still), five years of justified anger toward Lukas, and a full can of La Croix. Now I have an ex, confused feelings about Lukas, and I’m homeless… and no La Croix.

Plus, we didn’t even finish the end of the movie. I wonder if Tucker and Dale survive to the end.

ChapterEleven

Lukas

I’ve been beatingmyself up for five years, and she never got the damn journal. Wasted nights, misplaced anger, and all because I was too damn stubborn to track her ass down and fucking talk about it.

Not again. It’s not happening again. I scroll through my phone, scanning the messages for the wedding group chat. I’ve got a few names already in my contacts—Angie, Kyle, Darren—and then a bunch with unknown names. Scrolling through the responses, there’s one number whose responses always have emojis and the correct answers with a sense of authority and kindness.

I take a chance and do what I should’ve done a while ago.

Me: Waverly?

Three dots dance around and vanish.

Waverly: Who is this?

Me: It’s Lukas. I finished with my client and I’m checking in with you.

Waverly: Sends gif of a happy baby cow with the caption “That’s so sweet.”

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