Page 60 of Wilder
I frownat my phone where it sits on the counter, silently cursing the fact that we still don’t have permission to reenter either SIN or TZE. There’s been no communication whatsoever from the police department. Then again, maybe no news is good news. And I guess ithasonly been a couple of days. I let out a sigh, my gaze traveling over to Chase, who is strapped into a booster seat pulled up to the kitchen table. “You having fun painting, little man?” I eye him as he slides the brush over the page while I chop veggies for the salad we’re having with our dinner.
“Yeah!” He nods vigorously, haphazardly dipping his brush back into the cup of water I’d set out for him and nearly knocking it over before running the dampened bristles over the page he’s working on in the water painting book. After my failed watercolor attempt in art today, I hadn’t been able to help myself. The minute Beckham and I returned home, I went down to the basement and dug out the toddler-friendly art supplies from a box we’d never unpacked. I knew I had a couple of these water paint books hiding away because I’d let Chase try it about a year ago, and he hadn’t done well with it. A soft smile tipsthe corners of my lips. My baby is growing up so fast. What a difference a year makes.
If I really had to examine my life, though, we’ve had a lot of upheaval in the last six months—the death of my parents, a move back home, and a new beginning at Kingston University. Even a few weeks can make a huge difference. I am not the same person I was three weeks ago when I entered TZE. I’m forever changed. A mental image of the three guys helping me with Chase this morning flits through my head. My child’s life will be different, too—and definitely for the better.
But even with all the thoughts of the good things that have happened recently, I’m also bogged down and twisty in the stomach about some of the recent events that have transpired, including the bullshit from Derek Pierce last night.
I inhale deeply and glance to my side, where I follow Kara’s movements as she reads over a recipe for twice-baked potatoes that she found somewhere online. She’d put a roast in the oven as soon as she got home from work, and the smell of it has my stomach rumbling. I’m fucking starving.
Do I bring this up now? I’m scared of what she might know, but I’m also nervous that she won’t have a clue what I’m talking about. Then I’ll have to explain what happened.Shit.Finally, I swallow down my fears and touch her arm. She glances up with a smile on her lips that I’m terrified I’m about to displace.
“What’s that face for?” She cocks her head to the side, studying me.
I set down the knife I’d been wielding on a green pepper and grip the counter for support. Exhaling rather unsteadily, I give her a tight smile. “Look, I don’t know if this is going to be news to you or not… but I had a really weird run-in last night with this guy who knew dad. Derek Pierce. Do you know who he is?”
Her brow furrows. “I don’t think so.”
“He said something about dad’s business being a front for what he really did. A cover.”
“The investment company?” Kara’s head rears back. Okay. So, she doesn’t know anything.
Shit. I’m not telling her the rest. I can’t right now. “Yeah.”
“That’s really weird.”
I grimace. “Yeah, I thought so, too. But… could it have something to do with—?” I swallow hard, unable to finish my thought, even though in my mind, there is no question about it. For the first time since they died, I have an inkling that maybe my dad wasn’t a complete innocent. And that shakes me to my core. Tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, I meet my sister’s eyes.
“Their death.” She draws in a shaky breath, her eyes crashing shut for a moment. “You have enough to worry about. I’ll see what I can dig up. Maybe there’s something the investigators missed.”
I shrug, letting out a sigh of relief. “I can help.”
“No. Just keep up with your classes. I’ll see if Davis knows anything. He’s supposed to be by later this week.”
“Yeah, okay.” I bite my lip, reluctantly agreeing. “But you’ll let me know if you find anything?”
“I will.” She nods her head, then glances back at her recipe.
After that, I wonder if I should even bring up the other thing that’s kinda been weighing on me. I clear my throat as I pick the knife up and go back to work on the veggies. “Um, change of subject?”
She eyes me warily. “Go on.”
“Are you sure you’re okay with all of us continuing to stay here? I know it’s a lot.”
Kara raises a brow and gives me an impatient look. “It’s fine. I told you that already. I would have spoken up if it was too much.”
“I guess I’m just antsy about it because of the T-H-R-E-A-T against Chase if I stay, but what else were we supposed to do?” I let loose a hard exhale. “The hotel thing for a week? I mean, I guess we could’ve.” I frown.
“Nah. And I know the guys have told you they don’t give a S-H-I-T what they’re”—she lowers her voice to a whisper—“threatened with.”
“I know. They’d rather be here with Chase than not.”
Kara shoots me a small smile. “I think you’re right. And I’m guessing you still haven’t heard from the a-hole detectives at the police department, huh?”
I huff out a laugh. “No. Not a word.” I haven’t needed to tell my sister half the stuff that we’ve gone through lately about the people running this investigation for her to have the opinion she does. She’s definitely picked up on our feelings about how things are being handled. Obviously, she’s aware of Royal’s issues. After the intruder in our home, she’d at first balked when we wanted her to keep that new info from the cops, but dammit, since Freya’s and Zane’s murders, things have only gotten worse, and she knows it. We also have Wilder’s problems with his brother-in-law in play, and I’m guessing some of that probably came up last night while River and Kara were home alone together. Kara told me they’d talked a lot, and that she believes every word about Brian that River told her.
“That’s aggravating. All those students displaced. I’m surprised the university isn’t doing more for you. And no one has reached out. Such bullshit.” She blows out a breath, nodding her head. She’s quiet for a moment as she begins the process of cutting the baked potatoes in half and scooping out the insides into a bowl. “But anyway, no. I don’t mind you all being here.” She gives an unladylike snort. “I mean, Beckham does eat all the fucking food, but he also helps me fold the laundry and you know how I hate that. Wilder’s been cooking half the meals.Royal keeps Chase occupied without being asked. And you’re here, helping with anything else we need. It actually feels like a vacation for me.”
I dump the veggies into the salad bowl with the lettuce and toss. “Well, thank you. We all appreciate it.”
