Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 92743 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92743 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
“Yeah, he did,” I say. “So?”
“So, Weaver showed up, saw them drinking beers on his fancy boat, and flipped out. He called the police and had everyone arrested. And then Chris called me to beg for a loan to pay for his lawyer.” Steven’s upper lip curls. “Though I’m sure Mark isn’t shopping for lawyers. That little shit always wiggles his way out of trouble. I told Chris not to hang out with him, but he wouldn’t listen.”
“Shit,” I say, remembering the camera I encouraged Weaver to set up. With video evidence, he won’t have any trouble proving my cousin and his friends were trespassing.
But is that really their fault if they were just following Mark’s lead? If he told them that it was fine? After all, we’ve all hung out on the yacht with Mark at one point or another. He wasn’t supposed to use it when it belonged to his father, either, but he always did, and no one ever got arrested.
“Yeah,” Steven agrees. “And Stella is freaking out that they’re coming to slap the cuffs on her next, and she’ll have to turn the kid over to foster care for a while, or something. Her mom’s out of town. She left Gavin with a sitter this afternoon so she could go out, but the sitter’s only sixteen and has to get home to her own family. She can’t stay at Stella’s place just in case Stella gets arrested.”
I curse again. This is a nightmare.
Chris is far from my favorite cousin—he’s kind of an asshole, to be honest, and not the guy I’d choose to date if I were a single mom with a two-year-old—but that’s neither here nor there. These are vulnerable people with so much to lose, and I for one don’t think Stella should lose her child or Chris his clean criminal record over trespassing on some rich guy’s yacht.
Some rich guy…
God. Weaver went from my brave, thoughtful, sexy boyfriend, to “some rich guy” in the blink of an eye.
Maybe I’m not as cool with our class differences as I’ve convinced myself I am in the past few days.
“There has to be some explanation,” I say, tugging at my earlobe as I try to think this through. “Something we’re not understanding right now. Weaver wouldn’t do this just because people were trespassing. And he wouldn’t punish innocent guests and let Mark walk away. That’s not the kind of person he is. He honestly isn’t a big fan of his nephew.”
Steven arches a dubious brow. “Okay, whatever you say.”
“I do say,” I double down, with only a slight flutter of anxiety in my stomach. I know Weaver, and I know he wouldn’t do this…don’t I?
“Then text him.” Steven crosses his arms.
“What?”
“Text Mark,” he says, nodding toward the purse slung over my good shoulder. “Ask him if he’s in jail.”
I exhale. “I’d rather not. We’re not on good terms right now.”
Steven frowns. “Why?”
“Reasons,” I say vaguely, but he’s right. Texting Mark is probably the quickest way to get to the bottom of this. But it will have to wait. Gramps is expecting us, and I don’t want to keep him waiting. I start toward the ICU doors again, “Come on, we should see Gramps. We can figure this out after.”
Steven catches my elbow gently between his fingers, and I turn back to see an unusually worried expression on my cousin’s face. Steven isn’t usually much for feelings—positive or negative. He’s the chill, steady sort, a voice of reason amongst the chaos of our loud, emotional family.
So, his warning hits differently as he says, “Just be careful, okay? With Weaver? There are things you don’t know, Gert, about what went down between him and your mom when we were little. The Olds tried to keep it a secret from all the kids, but you know me. I’m always listening, and Cathy’s always talking, and I spent almost every day after school at her house until my dad finally trusted me to stay home on my own. I heard things.”
I want to ask him what he heard, but I also want to turn and walk away. I want to head down the elevator, walk out of the hospital, and keep walking until I’m at whatever hotel room Weaver found for tonight. Then, I want to rest my head on his chest, feel his arms wrap around me, and forget everything else but us.
There’s no ugly past, no family feuds, no beatings or arrests or criminal charges, there’s just the man I love and how perfect I feel in his arms.
Perfectly happy.
Perfectly cared for.
And maybe, perfectly lied to…
I owe it to myself and everyone I love to find out.
But first, I owe it to the man who raised me to tell him how much I treasure him.
I nod, my jaw tight. “Let’s grab a coffee after we see Gramps, and you can tell me whatever you’ve heard.”