Page 53 of Say You Will

I shake my head helplessly. “Nothing. They ran away. I couldn’t report it, so nobody even looked for them. The publicity would have been terrible for my mother.”

“I see. You were more worried about making your mother uncomfortable than your own safety.”

“That’s not fair. Negative publicity affects her livelihood. They were random acts of violence. Reporting one of those guys wouldn’t have stopped the next one.” I quote my mother directly.

“You didn’t consider that by not reporting it, you were leaving someone on the street who would go on to hurt another woman?”

“Yes, I considered it, but no one would have caught them. There was no point to making my mother’s life more difficult when nothing would have come from it.” I hate the way my voice shakes. I don’t like to think about any of it.

He leans back, giving me space. “I shouldn’t have said that. It’s easy for someone standing on the outside to judge.”

“You were primed to go after someone the moment you thought I was upset. I could have been picturing punching someone who cut me off in traffic.”

He rubs his chin and dips his head. “There’s such a thing as a proportional response. That’s not something I usually forget. You’re a much nicer person than I am.”

I shake my head, and he scalds me with his heated gaze.

“I don’t need anyone to blow smoke up my ass about who or what I am. Not even you. Remember what I said. You never needto worry about whether it hurts to throw a punch. I’ll be your fist. All you need to do is say the word.”

I take it for the vow it is. “Thank you.”

He leans down to drop a lingering kiss on my mouth, then he puts the vehicle back into Drive. “I’m also hooking you up with atleasta taser and training you on how to use it. I’ll beat the shit out of anyone who comes at you, then you can shock the shit out of him.”

His comment startles a laugh out of me. “Oh my gosh.Henry.”

His lips twitch. “It’s always nice to have a plan.”

seventeen

Henry

Motion Sickness | Phoebe Bridgers

I’m rarely a fanof these rowdy family dinners, and tonight is no exception. When Franki and I returned from shopping, she took a nap, and I holed up to work in Bronwyn’s office. Being away from New York isn’t an excuse to take a break from the pressures there.

By the time I get to the dinner table, only one available chair remains. I’m now located four people away and on the opposite side of the table from Franki, who happens to be sitting next to Gabriel.

The flush on my brother’s face and his glassy grin tell me he’s already been drinking even before he lifts his glass of wine to his lips. I pick up my fork.

I don’t believe Franki has any romantic interest in Gabriel, but I’m not sure my brother won’t come on to her when he’s drunk. She would turn him down, but there’s a sick weight in my gut at the realization that I no longer trust my own brother. He’s a different person when he’s trashed.

Franki laughs, and I glance her way. Gabriel is not that funny, and half his jokes are of the dirty variety.

Dean scowls at me across the table, as if the weight of his glare means anything to me at all. “Henry.”

My name isn’t a greeting from my brother-in-law; it’s a curse. I move my lips into a smile and pretend I don’t know he’s pissed that I invited that douche, Louis Larrabie, here for the weekend. Louis is a smarmy prick who’s been carrying a torch for my sister for years and hangs out with her group of friends. He’s an absolute dickhead, and I’m honestly not sure why Bronwyn lets him hang around at all.

Louis, with his overly coiffed blond hair and spray tan, shovels in a mouthful of lasagna, then alternates between gazing longingly at my goofy sister and shooting venomous glares at Dean.

I catch Louis’s eye and nod, giving him my best “Buck up, little buddy” expression. His eyebrows lift in the middle and he nods back with a heavy sigh.

Bronwyn isn’t paying any attention to him at all. The guy isn’t a threat to Dean, but Dean is desperately in love with my sister, and, though he rarely lets on to Bronwyn, it’s clear as glass to me that he’s the jealous type.

Which is exactly why Larrabie was on my guest list. There’s no way we’ll find Dean sleeping on a sofa if Louis Larrabie is on thepremises. Dean will be in bed with his wife or sleeping in front of her door on guard duty.

I might find myself doing the same thing with Franki tonight. So maybe Dean isn’t as unhinged as I originally thought. Or maybe I’m becoming as obsessed with Franki as Dean is with my sister.

I spent the last hour reviewing Franki’s files. I’d never noticed anything in them in the last five years that indicated any specific red flags, but we weren’t exactly doing a deep dive. Her surveillance, if you can even call it that, was little more than a standard wellness check. I’d been attempting to respect her privacy, to the best of my ability.

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