Page 9 of North

“Ignoring my calls,” Connor replied, jaw ticking. “Probably for the best, he’s in a pissy mood. God only knows why.” Connor would know better than any of us, considering Aiden was his brother.

Fuck. That changed things. “I’ll message him,” I muttered.

The whole fucking point of inviting them earlier had been for him to be here when Quinn came out of her fucking room. If she even remembered him. Hell, she hadn’t been in town since Mark and Lauren got married—what was that… eight or ten years ago?

I couldn’t blame her, but the least she could fucking do was acknowledge the mess her father had left behind.

While I pulled out my cell phone, Connor and Vic retreated to the kitchen to grab a beer, Summer trailing along like a lost fucking puppy.

North: Hey, man. You still coming to the party?

The message went unread, and after staring at it for a moment, I pocketed my phone and went to find the others. Their voices filled the space instantly, loud and brash, echoing off the glass walls and polished wood floors. Normally, the noise was welcome, a good way to drown out the shit that lingered in my head when the house was too quiet.

But today, it grated my nerves.

Because she was here.

Quinn.

I didn’t see her at first, but I didn’t need to. I could feel her eyes on me whenever she walked past. Her stare is heavy with accusations, and impossible to ignore.

Finding her didn’t take long after I reached the living room. I just had to glance out the window and my eyes latched onto her. She was out on the deck, sitting near the edge of the pool with her legs dipped in the water, her back hunched slightly like she was trying to disappear. She wasn’t doing anything—just staring out at the lake, her arms wrapped around herself like she needed comfort.

Not that I gave a shit or anything, but she might as well have been under a spotlight.

Connor noticed her almost immediately. “Who’s that?” he asked, his voice low and sharp as his eyes locked onto her. His eyes flickered with interest, and I felt my jaw tighten in response. I wasn’t sure if I liked it or not that he didn’t recognize her.

Shrugging, I forced myself to lighten my tone to avoid suspicion. “No one special.”

Connor raised an eyebrow, taking a slow sip of his beer. “Doesn’t look like anyone.”

That was the fucking problem.

“It’s Harley’s kid,” I said flatly.

Connor froze, the bottle still halfway to his lips. He stared at me for a long moment before letting out a bitter laugh. “You’ve gotta be kidding me. Mark’s letting the murderer’s kid shack up here?”

“Drop it, Connor.” My hands wrapped around a beer that Vic brought me, and I tapped it against my leg. God help me, but I couldn’t get into it today.

“Her dad ruined lives, North,” he snapped, his voice rising. “He left my brother with a fucking limp. He killed Lila.” His eyes flicked back to the deck, narrowing as he watched her shift slightly, her auburn tresses catching the sunlight. “And now she’s just… here? Walking around like nothing ever happened?”

“She’s Lauren’s kid too. Can’t exactly say no to her, now can I?” I said, my voice tight. We both knew Lauren didn’t really give a shit about Quinn. She hardly spoke to her daughter because she was too busy trying to step into the role of the perfect Crawford Step-mother.

Evie liked her; that was the only reason I hadn’t bitten her head off for interfering, but at least Liam felt the same way I did. It was odd as fucking hell when her and Dad got married.

Connor let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “No, she’s not. But she’s still here. Acting like she belongs.”

The irritation simmering in my chest flared hot. He wasn’t wrong—not entirely. But the way he said it made something twist in my gut.

“None of my business,” I said, implying it wasn’t his either.

Connor frowned. “What?”

“She’s just the charity case,” I added, louder this time, my eyes locked on her. “You know, Dad likes to feel sorry for the underdog. After all, he married Lauren.”

Her shoulders stiffened, and she turned slightly, just enough for me to see the flicker of anger in her hazel eyes before she looked away. Good. But the dark satisfaction that usually came with seeing her squirm was short-lived, tangled up with something I didn’t want to acknowledge.

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