Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 163209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 816(@200wpm)___ 653(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 816(@200wpm)___ 653(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
“We should be at practice,” Jean said, right on cue.
“We should not,” Jeremy said. “It’d be in poor taste, don’t you think? Lucas will be back in San Diego by dinner, and you need time to process what’s happened. No one will be able to focus after they hear the news, so it’s best to just call it and start fresh again next week.”
Jean frowned his disapproval, but Laila chimed in with, “Where is your head, Jean? You’ve lost another Raven.”
Cat opened her mouth on what was sure to be a strident protest, but Laila gave her arm a warning squeeze. They stared each other down for a few tense seconds, Cat’s indignant anger against Laila’s unyielding calm. Laila won, as she usually did, and Cat frowned but held her tongue. At Jeremy’s side Jean seemed oblivious to the silent argument, staring into the distance as he weighed Laila’s words.
“He’s really gone, isn’t he?” Jean said, so low Jeremy might have imagined it.
Jeremy studied the shadows in his eyes and the tug at the corner of his mouth. Jean cradled his throat in his palm and tapped an agitated rhythm on the bandage. For a moment he looked lost; for a moment he looked unbearably young. It made Jeremy ache to see Jean like this, but then the tension seeped out of him. His mouth twitched again, but Jean dug his fingernails into his lower lip to stop the smile from forming.
The self-censure was regrettable, but then Jean said, “Pop. How easily these monsters die in the end.”
The ease with which he called Grayson a monster put a hopeful twinge in Jeremy’s chest. Jean’s relationship with the Ravens was a complicated mess of love and hate, torn through by his refusal to face the horror of what they’d done to him at Edgar Allan. The few times he’d slipped up—Not Grayson, please; I didn’t ask—he’d retreated as quickly as he could behind dismissals and evasion. That Jean felt safe enough now to look so unabashedly relieved was enough to warm Jeremy all the way through.
Cat was encouraged by his response enough to say, “Good riddance, too.”
“Yes,” Jean agreed.
Laila allowed them a few moments of triumph, but she’d put the pieces together as easily as Jeremy had. “If Warren’s doing preemptive damage control, the police suspect foul play. We know you’re not capable of something like this, but the Ravens have done a number on your reputation this summer. Public opinion is an unforgiving monster when it gets going. We need a plan to get them off your back.”
Jeremy looked from Laila to Jean. “Coach said Jean has a good alibi.”
“They already confirmed it,” Jean said. “They cannot hold this against me.”
“You were with Neil.” Jeremy hoped Jean would elaborate on his own, but the other man only sipped at his coffee. “You said he wouldn’t have come here if he had a choice. What was he even doing here?”
Cat had no patience for tact: “What did he do to you?” When Jean only frowned at her, she smoothed his hair out of his face and said, “You were in rough shape when he brought you home, and he has a bit of a reputation. You can’t blame us for being worried about you or for not trusting him.”
“You do not have to trust him,” Jean said. “I do.”
It wasn’t the answer Jeremy was expecting. Maybe Jean didn’t expect it either, judging by his small frown as he turned his attention back to his coffee. Jeremy swallowed his reservations and doubts and said, “After everything he said about the Ravens last year, I wasn’t expecting the two of you to be friends. If he’s still in town you should invite him over for dinner.”
Jean didn’t even hesitate. “That ill-bred child is not my friend.”
“One day you’ll make sense,” Laila mused. Jeremy’s phone gave an ugly chime before Jean could respond, and Laila sent an annoyed look Jeremy’s way. “Doesn’t he have anything better to do today? Why isn’t he at work?”
“This is his week—” Jeremy forgot what he was saying when he saw the name attached to his newest message. The dread that settled on him was heavy enough to be a second skin. “It’s Joshua.”
“Don’t,” Laila warned him. “Jeremy, do not.”
Joshua had spent the last four years pretending Jeremy didn’t exist, looking past him and through him at every holiday and mandatory family event. That he would reach out to Jeremy today of all days wasn’t a coincidence.
“Babe, I’m begging you—” Laila reached across the island, but Jeremy moved his hand out of the way before she could snatch his phone from him.
Jeremy tapped into the short message, read it in silence, and dropped his phone into his mug of coffee a heartbeat later. Cat’s stool fell with a loud clatter as she ran to grab the rice, and Laila nearly took Jeremy’s fingers off as she pulled his mug out of his grip. He was distantly aware of Jean’s heavy, unwavering stare, but Jeremy watched as Laila fished his phone out and quickly took it apart. Cat was back in moments, pouring rice into a square Tupperware so quickly she spilled it everywhere.