Series: Webs We Weave Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 126927 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 635(@200wpm)___ 508(@250wpm)___ 423(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126927 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 635(@200wpm)___ 508(@250wpm)___ 423(@300wpm)
Hailey peers up from her paper and studies me and my new phone obsession. “He’ll call.”
I click out of the texts. Tap into the recent phone calls. Back into the text threads. “Call,” I whisper to my cell.
From the couch, Trevor watches me with raised brows. “Hailey, come collect your friend, she’s losing it.”
I shoot Trevor a glare. “King of the Hypocrites.” I look to the box on his lap. “I thought your parents said no more money boxes?”
Trevor fabricated a box that prints counterfeit bills. It works ten times before being useless, but the marks he sells them to never know that.
“What they don’t know won’t hurt them,” Trevor singsongs in-key, and he glances from his sister to me. “Isn’t that the golden motto in this town?”
I regret letting Trevor know about our “new start” here in Victoria because he cackled like we needed to be sent to a traveling circus. He thinks we’re clowns. Now he’s mocking us.
“The golden motto is don’t be an ass,” I snap.
Trevor blows out a breath in a mock wince. “Ooh, I think you might have already failed that one, PG-13.”
PG. Phoebe Graves.
“Clever,” I say dryly.
He rattles the money box. “What’s clever is this box, Wannabe NC-17.”
“Ooh,” I make the same sound he made. “You’re so edgy.”
“Edgier than you,” he refutes. “The edgiest thing you’ve done is pretend to be a stripper. And you weren’t even good at it.”
Hailey whips toward him. “Don’t be mean, Trevor.”
“You don’t need to stick up for her, Hails,” he says. “Phoebe doesn’t have a sensitive bone in her body.”
I set my phone down on the counter to flip him off with both hands.
“Point made,” Trevor says. He returns to his box, and I go to pick up my phone when it buzzes on the counter.
My heart almost jumps from my chest.
Hailey leans into my side and reads over my shoulder.
Rocky: You both free to grab dinner at the Lure? 5 p.m.?
He’s back on his regular phone, which means he’s already in town.
I quickly text back: Yeah, we’ll meet you there. How are you and Jake?
I’ve wanted this answer for a while. Especially since I’ve asked Jake about his chat with Rocky, but he just brushes me off.
Rocky: Peachy. Jake and I are BFFs
Hailey frowns. “That’s sarcasm, right?”
Confusion furrows my brows. “I’m not sure.”
Thirty-Four
Phoebe
On our walk to the seaside bar, my phone buzzes.
Laurie Strode: Send me your coordinates, bug.
My stomach somersaults. “Hailey?” I show her my phone. “Doesn’t she already know where we are?”
Hailey frowns. “It might be a test.”
A test? Of loyalty?
I’ve been so withdrawn that she must be questioning where I stand. Not good, not good. It’s my fault. Maybe I should’ve made a better effort so she knows I wouldn’t betray her.
By the time we’re seated on the outside patio of the Lure, I still haven’t figured out how to respond to the text, and Rocky is late.
We opt for a table close to a family of four. The parents are more preoccupied corralling two toddlers than eavesdropping on our conversation.
Where’s Rocky?
I keep checking the time. The waitress serves us warm crab dip and the best fried clam strips I’ve had, and I shift the patio heater closer to Hailey as the sun begins to drop.
Finally, Rocky arrives, eighteen minutes past the time he set.
He shows up in a sexy sport coat, his black hair artfully windswept. And as soon as he seizes my gaze from across the patio, he doesn’t let go. He walks to the table still clinging on to me, and my expression isn’t necessarily inviting.
I’m a little aggravated he’s late. And I’m mad that my pulse is skipping, and my heart has practically catapulted to my throat.
Rocky looks me over, as though ensuring I’ve been fine in his absence. Does he want me to be fine when he’s gone? Would that make him happy?
I drop my gaze first and check out the menu. We’ve only ordered apps.
When he sits down, he already starts digging into the crab dip like he hasn’t eaten all day.
I glare. “Hello. How are you? I’m doing great, too, thanks.”
“We need to talk about Trevor,” he says after swallowing a mouthful.
I frown. “I thought we were here to talk about Jake?”
“That, too.” He wipes his hands on a cloth napkin. “But Trevor is more like an impending doom. Jake is taken care of.”
Hailey narrows her eyes. “Did you kill him?”
He gives her a look. “Hailey.”
She eases back. “Just checking.”
“What about your annoying brother?” I ask, grabbing a pita from the dish.
“As you both know, he comes with baggage.”
He means enemies, but he’s trying to be discreet in public. Trevor is a liability that my mom is sometimes afraid to have around, so they place him in shadows and dark corners. Over time, he’s angered the wrong people with the money box scam. There’ve been a few instances where Nova has seen men tailing him.