Crazy Eights (Stacked Deck #8) - Emilia Finn Page 0,70
go back to the front door and snatch up my bag with a grunt, only to come back into the living room and drop it on the floor. “Why aren’t you at work?”
He shrugs and brings a hand up to rub his face. It’s a sign that he’s stressed, a nervous tic that means he’s had a big day. “I got a little more information about Nate Hardy today, so I felt the need to hang around and check on you. It’s an old habit, I guess.”
He steps toward me and pulls me in for a hug that borders on too tight, painful, and jerks my shoulder up until a hiss almost escapes my lips. “You’re safe, Bubbles. And that’s all I’ve ever needed to know.”
“What information did you hear?” I pull back, but remain standing right in front of my big brother. I let go of my thoughts of Jamie, of the studio, the kiss, Evan. I let it all go, because it’s my turn to take care of Will. “Whatever you heard, it was something really bad. You look a little shaky.”
“Yeah.” He studies my eyes, letting his flicker all over my face. He licks his lips as though he’s parched, and takes my hand, seeming to need the contact. “Yeah, it was kinda world-shattering actually. It hurt.”
“What was it?” My pulse races faster, faster, faster. “Will? What was the thing?”
“It was like…” He places our joined hands on his heart. “Ouch, Bubbles. I’ve never been sucker-punched so fucking hard in my life.”
“What happened?” I demand. “Jesus, Will. Tell me the thing already.” I guess my body isn’t done crying yet, because fresh new tears brim in my eyes. “You’re scaring me. Was it that dude? Phil? Did he remember something?”
“No.” Backing me up to the long couch so my back is to the kitchen, Will pushes me down and crouches in front of me so our eyes meet on the same level. “Bubbles. This thing I’m gonna tell you…” He looks away and shakes his head. “Fuck.”
“What?” I demand. My voice shakes, it cracks, but my demand can’t be mistaken for anything less. “Stop with the vague bullshit, and get to the damn point. We promised we’d be straight with each other, right? Always. We’re honest. So quit beating around the bush, and spit it out already.”
“You’re right.” His eyes remain on our hands, his head nodding as he works through his thoughts. “We did promise that. Truth. Bravery. Complete and utter honesty, even if we think it might hurt the other person.”
“Oh god.” I think I might be at legitimate risk of a heart attack. “It’s bad. It’s really, really bad. Quick, Will. Say it fast. Just say it, get it out of the way, then we can work together on fixing it.”
“Yeah.” He brings his gaze up. He looks over my shoulder for a moment, buys himself just a second more of procrastination. Then his gaze comes back to mine, and instantly turns to rage. Homicidal rage. “Zeus’ fucking club, Bubbles? What the hell is wrong with you?”
I sit in stunned silence as Will thrusts up from his crouch and stands over me.
“Zeus’ Club!” He leans in and taps my temple with a rough smack of his fist. “Where’s your brain, Quinn?”
“What…” My voice cracks as my mind races through the myriad ways Will could have found out.
Did he see me walk in there? Did someone he works with see me and snitch? Did I leave a Zeus’ matchbook on my bed? Hell, did someone see Ivan and the fancy car last night?
“I don’t…” I swallow my nerves, and try my best not to panic. Not to get myself deeper into trouble. “Um… what are you talking about?”
“Mrs. Preston’s daughter’s sweet sixteen, huh?”
“Mrs. Parnell,” I rasp out, but Will shouts, “Lies!” and makes me jump.
“You weren’t at a sweet sixteen, Bubbles! You were at a fucking titty club. But it’s worse! So much worse.”
“Worse?” I lick my dry lips. “What do you—”
“To find out my sister is a stripper?” Will slams his fist against his chest until I jump again. “Suckerpunch to the solar plexus. After all my work, all of my worrying, you seek out danger anyway?”
“Will, I—”
“But it’s worse! Because you weren’t dancing last night, were you, Bubbles? Noooo…” He spins away and paces the living room floor. “Nah. Fucking worse! You were on a date with Evan McGrady. Do you have a death wish, Quinn? Do you want to find out what