Page 162 of The Ruthless Note

I spit out the water and it goes spewing all over the counter. “You what?”

She winces. “I knew you’d react like this. That’s why I didn’t want to tell you beforehand.”

“Zane? Zane Cross?” A furious storm whips to life in my chest. How dare Dutch and his brothers go after my sister?

I’m going to tear them limb from limb.

I shoot to my feet.

Vi rushes around the kitchen and throws her arms out. “They didn’t come over and I didn’t see them either. It was all over the internet. Zane and his brothers agreed to do a ‘my boyfriend does a voiceover for my makeup routine’. Well, except they’re ten times better than any boyfriend I could ever have.”

“They?”

“All of them did it. Zane, Finn…” She watches me carefully. “Dutch.”

My nostrils flare. “Dutch didn’t say anything to me.”

“I asked them to keep it quiet because I knew you’d kill me.” She hurries to grab her laptop and shows me the video she’s editing. “Look, I put out a teaser and it’s already got a ton of hits. My follower count is rising too.”

My pulse picks up speed. Why would Dutch help out my sister? Is he trying to get closer to her just so he can hurt her later?

“You need to stay away from them,” I hiss, pushing her laptop.

“I won’t.”

My eyes lash on hers. “Viola Cooper.”

“They’re not evil bastards like Breeze thinks. They’re hilarious and they genuinely like me.”

“No, sweetie. They don’t. And even if they did, it wouldn’t be anything good. Eighteen-year-old rock stars shouldn’t be anywhere near a thirteen-year-old little girl.”

“You think they did this for me?” She laughs. “I know Dutch is just trying to get you to like him back.”

“Dutch is dangerous.”

“Dutch is hilarious. You should watch what I’ve edited so far.” She nudges the laptop closer to me. “They’re rockstars. They don’t know anything about makeup and they don’t mind cracking jokes.”

“Dutch doesn’t know how to crack a…” The time stamp on the screen makes my heart lurch. I lean forward urgently. “Vi, is that time stamp when you edited the video?”

“No, it’s the time stamp of when we took the video.” She gestures to it. “I didn’t want to do a regular voiceover video because then, no one would believe they were really The Kings.” Her lips form a thin line as if she’s recalling an unpleasant memory. “So I asked them if they’d be on camera. They were okay with it, but they had a concert that night so they asked if they could film it virtually in the morning.”

An awful, frightening truth slams me in the head.

I blink, dazed, but I refuse to believe it.

“Vi…” I grab her shoulders and turn her to face me, needing her to see how serious I am. “Are yousurethat time stamp is when they were recording. Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Her brows furrow. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Despite my bravado, I’m terrified. In my head, I hear the shattering of glass. I hear thetwangof Dutch’s prized guitar as I snipped its strings.

My heart pounds harder and harder.

Oh no.

Oh no, oh no, oh no.

Dutch and his brothers were with my sister the morning of the fire. It was virtually, but that only makes their alibi iron-clad. Vi has all the evidence.

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