Page 57 of Wicked Love

“Of course,” she says.

Her tone makes me doubt her sincerity, but I guess now’s not the time to bring that up either. My head is reeling a little bit.

She moves toward her car and Tobias moves into step beside me as I walk to mine.

“Did I hear that right?” he asks.

“I guess so,” I mutter.

“Better you than me,” he says.

I shoot him a look and he gives me a sheepish look. “Good luck, little brother.” He hugs me and then is gone.

My dad might be gone, but things haven’t gotten any less complicated.

The air inside my parents’ house is heavy. In the day following my dad’s death, I helped arrange all the flight details with my first cousin Amelie. She’s one of the few family members I’ve kept in touch with over the years. My family and I left Austria when I was twelve, but before then, Amelie and I were always close as kids, and when I see her now, I hug her, grateful that it feels the same between us.

“Thanks for your help getting everyone here,” she says.

“You did the hard part.”

“Yeah, but you paid for it all,” she says with a pointed look. She rubs my arm. “I hate the reason for this visit, but I’m so happy to see you.”

“I’m happy to see you too. We’ll have to get together more while you’re here.” I hug her again.

She nods and then we’re interrupted by Amelie’s mom, my aunt Anna. Everyone mills around the rooms, speaking in hushed tones, and it sounds like a low hum. Becca is uncharacteristically quiet, taking it all in. I introduce her to people as they come up, and she smiles shyly. So far, the only one she’s really taken to is Amelie, which doesn’t surprise me. She doesn’t love meeting a ton of new people at once…she’s like me that way.

When she sees Henley’s girls, she perks up and runs off to join them.

I hear another aunt from Vienna attempting to explain Austrian funeral customs to one of Mom’s friends from here. A second cousin has Weston cornered, asking questions about life in the NFL, but Weston can hardly get a word in to respond.

“Bowie.”

I turn to see Henley, carrying two drinks. He hands one to me. “I thought you could use something stronger but figured you’d prefer Coke,” he says.

I smile gratefully. “You figured right.” I’ve provided thousands of dollars’ worth of alcohol, but there’s no way I’d feel right about drinking it here. It feels sort of hypocritical that I provided it, but my family would have been outraged if I hadn’t.

“You okay?” Henley asks.

“I’m okay.” I nod once.

Rhodes and Penn are in conversation across the room, Penn gesturing wildly.

“What do you think he’s talking about?” Henley chuckles.

“Some girl he met last night? Or maybe the meal he ate. Either one would excite him.”

We both laugh, but mine falls flat fast.

“Say the word and I’ll get you out of here,” Henley says.

“I’m probably required to be here until the end.”

“Nah,” he says, but he doesn’t push.

The voices get louder and I flinch when someone drops a glass. The sound of glass breaking takes me back. My father’s voice, slurred and angry, the crack of the glass shattering across the wall, the look in his eyes before he’d strike…

“I do need to get out of here,” I say, pushing away from the window.

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