Page 77 of We Will Reign

My dad wants so badly to believe that Riley is one of those bad seeds. He’s working tirelessly to prove she not only killed the governor but is also involved in the death of these other men, Zeke included.

I also learned that my dad is the one who put out the assignment that was handed down to Ridge. For reasons unbeknown to me, my dad has a loyalty to the governor and wants the truth revealed and the members involved to pay.

Another life was taken. Another person connected to the governor, employed at a factory he owned. There was no evidence left behind, but naturally, my dad assumes it involves Riley. No matter how hard I try to convince him it’s not her, it’s all he believes.

I can’t fathom why my dad is so hell-bent on proving the governor did not take his own life. What is his connection to Sebastian Saint? Where does this loyalty stem from? And why the hell does he have a vendetta against Riley?

Pieces of the puzzle are missing, but they exist. I just have to find them.

My phone beeps with a text, and I immediately know who it’s from. Earlier today, I sent Riley a message just to thank her for helping with Ridge last night, and to let her know I still plan to help her. The choice I had to make wasn’t an easy one, but it was the right one. Being around Riley so often is dangerous. I could already feel myself falling for her. Ridge is my best fucking friend and he doesn’t deserve that sort of betrayal.

Riley: Thank you.

That’s it? Thank you.I asked her questions. Wanted to know how she was doing. And all I get is a ‘thank you’?

Me: You’re pissed at me, aren't you?

I lean against the wall in front of the school, waiting for her response before my next class of the afternoon.

Riley: Why would I be pissed at you? It’s not like you told me you liked me, only to turn around and tell me nothing could come of it.

But I did do those things. And now I feel like a fucking asshole for it.

Me: You should be pissed. I’m pretty mad at myself right now.

Riley: Then don’t let Ridge control your life.

Me: Says the girl who fucked him…

I backspace and delete the message, knowing it’ll just make things worse.But dammit!Why would she do that? I know I should be happy for my boy, but I’m not. It fucking kills me knowing that he got the girl I want.

Me: It’s not about control. It’s about a twenty-year friendship.

Riley: Then I guess I should be glad to have you as a friend, friend.

I don’t respond because it’ll be sent out of frustration and I’m likely to put my foot in my mouth. Or my hand. However that saying goes when it’s a typed text message. Instead, I slide my phone in the front pocket of my jeans and head into class. Class with her.

She’s wearing a scowl. Eyebrows caved and her bottom lip between her teeth. Her shoulders lift slightly when I pass behind her, but she doesn't even lift her head.

Yeah. She’s pissed.

But you know what? So am I.I’m allowed to be pissed, too. I told her I liked her. We kissed a couple times. I risked a lot for those fucking moments, and the second I do the right thing, she falls right onto Ridge’s cock.

He was grinning from ear to ear when he came home. Told me all about their rendezvous in the stadium theater room. It was fifteen minutes of pure fucking torture.

Forgoing my usual seat in the row behind Riley, I take it upon myself to drop my bag on the table right beside her. It lands with a thud, rattling the table.

We’ll see if she can avoid looking at me after that.

Yet, her eyes stay fixed on her book.

She’s a tough one, that’s for sure.

Professor Atkins begins his lecture, so I pull out the chair and sit down. With my bag still on the table, I take out my shit for this class, making no attempt not to disrupt whatever she’s got going on beside me. I glance over and it looks like she’s reading last night’s chapter on verbal and nonverbal cues.

“Ya know,” I whisper, trying to steal her attention as I zip up my bag on the table. “One might say that nonverbal cues relay more information than verbal cues. And that look on your face right now, proves it to be true.”

Her eyes roll toward me. “I’m not pissed, remember?”

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