Series: Webs We Weave Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 145038 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145038 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
“It could be easily faked, or she could move.”
Jake intakes the deepest breath. “Then you’re just going to have to trust me.” They hold each other’s gaze for what feels like a millennium.
I trust Jake, and I’m more afraid to lose him as a potential ally against our parents. Rocky is so mistrusting—he can’t believe in the weapon in front of him. He’d always think it was a trick. That the weapon was filled with blanks.
This gun feels lethal.
We need him.
He needs us.
I’m surprised when Rocky relents. “All right.” And he begins to tell them everything. “Our parents might not be our real parents. They’ve lied to us. That’s why my sister is so distressed. She’s been trying to figure out who the hell we really are.”
As he continues down the rabbit hole of our fucked-up lives and all we’ve learned since Halloween, Jake has a hand planted over his mouth. His brows are furrowed caterpillars of absolute shock and disturbance and…empathy.
Carter keeps rubbing his chin and jaw like they’re aching. He’s the one muttering “Bloody fucking hell” and “No way” and shaking his head like Rocky is describing the horror plot to The Hills Have Eyes and not, you know, our actual lives. He, too, empathizes, and I thought it’d be uncomfortable.
I thought I’d crawl into myself and want to hide behind aliases and deceit. I didn’t think telling the truth would feel like purging twenty-four years of cumbersome weight.
For other people to care about us, the genuine and real us…it’s overwhelming.
I breathe in helium. Dizzy and high with a newfound feeling.
When Rocky is finished, the first thing Jake says is, “I’m going to help you. All of you.” It’s a resolute, unwavering promise.
“You can try to King Arthur this,” Rocky tells him, “but you’re not wearing the crown yet, Koning boy.”
“He’s still an heir,” Carter reminds him. “He might not be able to dupe your parents, but he can protect you while you’re in town. I think I’ll stick around, too.”
Hailey’s crush is staying. I smooth my lips over a burgeoning smile. Maybe her Mystic Pizza romance will seriously come to fruition here. My smile slowly fades as I remember how she fled the catamaran. Maybe a happy distraction will help her mind rest.
Carter moves out of the booth and tosses Jake his peacoat.
Jake catches it. “You don’t have to go back to York?”
“I thought you were in Manchester now?” Rocky questions.
“I’m here, I’m there.” Carter smiles. “And I’ve got time to spare, and my grannie still lives on the harbor. Might as well pay a long-extended visit and see if she knows anything about Addison and Elizabeth.” His lips drag into a frown. “I am sorry…about what they might’ve done. If I had known you weren’t really theirs…I would’ve told one of you.”
“Thanks, Carter,” I say from the sincerest place I can.
He nods to me. “Tell Ailey we’ll catch up when she’s hit the hay, yeah? That Ocean Pearl needs an Uncle Ned about yesterday.” He laughs to himself at my quizzical expression. I wish Oliver were still here to translate that Cockney slang for me. Then Carter’s light on his feet and en route to leave the catamaran.
“Wait,” Rocky calls out, stopping Carter at the exit beside my oldest brother. “They’re here. In Victoria.”
“Who?”
“Addison and Elizabeth,” Rocky says. “They just arrived about a week ago.”
Nova warns him, “We don’t know if they’ll be at the funeral.”
I offer this fun-sized piece of info. “They’re posing as matchmakers.”
Jake freezes midway into slipping his arms into the peacoat. “Isla and Wendy are the women who raised you?” He glances between all of us.
“In the flesh,” Rocky says dryly.
I explain, “They’re hoping this matchmaking thing will be a short con and we’ll leave town with them.”
“I’ll keep an eye out,” Carter says, lost a little in thought before he disappears.
The rest of us aren’t far behind.
* * *
—
It’s pouring when we reach the cemetery. Rain slips off hundreds of black umbrellas as people surround the freshly dug grave for Emilia Wolfe. Several socialites offer parting words, including Jake’s mom, but they lament more about the town than about the woman who left it.
“She lived a wonderful life in Victoria, as we all do.”
“The Wolfes will always be a hallmark here.”
“Their names are etched in the very foundation of town hall.”
I see necks craning and eyes shifting. The wealthy elite are taking stock of who’s in attendance, and I wonder if they’re noting Hailey’s and Oliver’s absence, or if they’re not influential enough to matter.
They matter to me.
I shoot both a text, hoping all is okay, and I ignore the knotting in my stomach.
It becomes painfully obvious I am a person of interest. Probably because I’m standing between my situationship—Jake and Rocky.
Neither one touches me. There are undefined parameters regarding us. But I’m sharing an umbrella with my fake boyfriend. Jake hoists it above the two of us, and rain pings against the black, tented fabric.