Page 40 of Pretty Wicked Secrets

“Yes,” Logan says in his usual clipped style, but a rare, fleeting smile crosses his lips, and I almost stumble over my feet as I stare in surprise.

He strokes the top of the shiny red car in a way that’s almost sensual. It’s the first time I can remember seeing him actuallylikesomething.

Dante catches the look on my face and laughs. “I know, right?” he says, ushering me toward the back and crowding in next to me once I slip into the leather seat. “Logan’s picky about what he likes to drive. The Audi is his baby.”

It’s pretty much what I was just thinking, but I definitely don’t need a bonding moment between us, so I ignore him.

I give Logan Frank’s address, and he pulls out of the garage with Maddoc in the front seat next to him, already murmuring quietly into his phone.

It sounds like he’s checking in with various people who’ve been out looking for Chloe, but I can tell by the tone of his voice that all the news is negative.

“Any idea how deep your dad is in with McKenna?” Dante asks as Logan navigates through traffic.

I glare at him, but before I can snap about his use of the “dad” title that Frank has never deserved, Dante’s already correcting himself. Proving he paid attention to what I told him before, and that it’s not my imagination—he really can read me like a book.

“Sorry. I meant Frank. I get that he wasn’t a real dad to you.”

“Yeah, not even close. And I’ve got no clue about his involvement with West Point. I worked hard to keep him out of our lives, and didn’t even know he did business with them.”

“Understandable,” Dante says, squeezing my knee in, what? Some kind of support?

I don’t need it.

I knock his hand off my leg and pointedly look out the window, giving him my back. I don’t need his understanding or support. He’s already chosen his gang over me, and it’s a betrayal I’m not going to forget and have no intention of forgiving.

I pop out of the car the minute Logan pulls up in front of Frank’s place, leading the way up the walk. Frank’s been dead to me ever since he sold Chloe out, and if it weren’t for her, there’s no way I’d ever step foot in his house again.

That’s not the way life works though, so despite the knot in my stomach, I don’t waste time dithering. I give a brisk knock as soon as I reach his door.

“Who’s there?” comes Frank’s muffled response.

I roll my eyes and knock again, louder. And then again. He finally pulls the door open, letting out a waft of stale air, cheap liquor, and rank body odor.

“Jesus, Frank,” I say, disgusted even if I’m not surprised. Clearly, he’s been hard at work doing his usual freeloading bunch of nothing, not torn up at all about what my sister was going through after he sold her off to Austin McKenna.

Frank gives me a sloppy smile, blinking blearily as he shoves his loose shirttail under his beer belly, trying and failing to tuck it back into his pants.

“Riley! Hey, honey girl. Wasn’t expecting you. Come in, come in. You’re looking good.”

I can’t believe he’s pulling his usual bullshit, acting like everything’s okay. Like I didn’t punch him in the fucking face the last time I saw him. I’m too worried about Chloe to waste time being annoyed by what a shithead he is, so I shove my way past him, taking him up on that offer to come inside.

The guys are right behind me, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t get a moment of gratification out of the way Frank blanches when he sees them.

“Who, uh, who did you bring with you, Riley?” he asks, his voice cracking as his bleary eyes dart between me and the solid wall of muscle that Maddoc, Dante, and Logan make on his doorstep.

He’s scared. It’s a beautiful sight.

“Friends,” I say. “Of Chloe’s.” A hundred percent not true, but still fun to say for the way it makes Frank’s face go green. “I suggest you invite them in too.”

“No need,” Maddoc says with a dangerous smile, grabbing Frank’s shoulder in a punishing grip and steering him into the house.

Logan and Dante follow, moving around the room until all exits are blocked.

Maddoc lets Frank go, and he swallows with an audible gulp. “You, uh, you guys West Point?”

A faint look of disgust flashes across Logan’s face, and Dante makes a rude sound.

“No,” Maddoc says simply, crossing his arms over his chest.

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