Page 75 of Kortlek

Arlo sighs and shakes his head.

“Maybe it’s time for us to involve Mom and Dad,’’ I say. “If anyone can find her, it’s them.’’

I hate the thought of involving Hudson and Noelle. When it’s about me, I don’t want them involved. I’m not sure if it’s to prove to them or to myself that I can handle it, or that I’m no longer the same person Wyatt had a massive grip on.

However, this goes beyond my pride. Rose’s life is at stake, and by extension, mine. When Jason finds out — and he will find out, I’m as good as dead if a single hair’s missing from Rose’s head. Which is understandable, to an extent.

Finding Rose and bringing her back is my top priority. Her safety beats my comfort by a lot, and I don’t care if it’ll make me look like a dog wagging its tail in front of Mom and Dad. I’ll do anything I possibly can, bend the possibilities and realities, and bring my best friend back.

“It’s your decision,’’ Arlo says. “If you’re sure, then we’ll involve them. Dad’s throwing a massive tantrum that I’m not letting him near any of this. If anyone wants Wyatt’s head and balls hanging, it’s our Father, and you know it.’’

I nod. “Yeah, I do. But that part is mine. I need to beat the anxiety and take back control over my fears. I can’t let him control the rest of my life like this.’’

Blair stands, then walks over to me. She wraps her arms around me from behind, giving me a reassuring squeeze. Her hug’s gentle, maternal almost, and she feels so soft. She smells great, too. No fucking wonder Arlo loves her. She’s impossible not to love.

She releases me, offering a smile. “Then, are you telling Noelle and Hudson?”

I’m about to respond, but the words die in my throat when the front door of Arlo’s penthouse opens. Soon enough, Cove strolls into the kitchen, and immediately, the rage that I managed to let go of for the time being returns in full force.

He looks like shit.

There are bags under his eyes, the dark color giving contrast to his pale skin. His shoulders are tense, and his hair is at its messiest. I’m pretty sure a part at the back is matted. His eyes land on me immediately, and something dark flashes behind his hazel eyes, causing slight goosebumps to tug on my skin.

“You,’’ he hisses.

“Me,’’ I nod.

“What in the world were you fucking thinking?” He spits out and takes a step toward me.

Blair thinks it’s the perfect chance to grab Arlo’s hand and start dragging him out. Arlo shoots a warning glare at Cove, who ignores it. Instead, his focus is on me. He’s quiet, listening carefully for the front door closing as Blair and Arlo leave, then stands in front of me.

“You will be the fucking death of me,’’ he grunts out.

My brows raise slightly as I get off the chair, standing in front of him. Immediately, I’m hit with that damned scent of his, and my knees start to wobble a little. I take a deep breath, and the mere thought of him lying to me, withholding information about Rose, and the anger’s back. I’m done holding back.

“Funny,’’ I say, sarcastically. “What happened? It felt bad to have done something to you without your input? Oh, how strange.’’

“Don’t fucking use that sarcastic tone on me, bunny. We both know it’s not the same.’’

“No, it’s not,’’ I said. “Tell me, why the fuck did you not let me know about Rose as soon as you found out?”

More than anything, I’m hurt.

Arlo keeping shit from me isn’t new, and it’s something that’ll likely never change. I just didn’t expect Cove would do it, too. It hurts more than I thought it would hurt. The fact that he knew about Rose’s disappearance and Wyatt wanting to kidnap me, yet deliberately chose not to tell me, hurts.

Because if the roles were reversed, I never would’ve thought twice about telling him. He’d know about it the moment I found it out.

The look in his eyes tells me everything I need to know.

Cove’s aware he fucked up.

CHAPTER THIRTY

As soon as we’re alone, Aria rises from the chair. Her big, bright blue eyes stare right back at me, and I know I fucked up. She’s waiting, tapping her foot against the floor impatiently, for any excuse. I don’t give her any. I have no excuses for not telling her one of her closest friends had gone missing.

“I didn’t tell you because I was scared.’’

Her brows narrow at me, and I see her trying to keep her anger at bay.

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