Page 87 of Love & Vendettas

What the hell was she thinking? Lying about a pregnancy? What does she even have to gain by lying about that? I mean, Kenny’s dead, and he’s not here.

Unless . . . I’m the only one who her pregnancy would impact. But if she just needed to come and stay with me for a while, then why not just say that? It can’t be that simple.

There’s some shit in the game.

I take a seat in the chair beside her bed and wait patiently for five minutes before she comes out of the shower, singing. She has a towel wrapped around her head and one around her body. She’s holding a couple of body moisturizers in one hand, and the body suit is tucked underneath her arm.

“Bay? What are you doing in here?” she asks.

“I think that I should be the one asking the questions.”

“Am I missing something?” she asks, staring at me in confusion.

“You are. Like a baby?” I say, gesturing at her flat stomach.

Her eyes widen, and she looks down, recognizing her mistake.

“Sis, I—”

“Uh-uh. No excuses! What the hell, Riley?”

“It’s not what you think,” she pouts, pulling panties and a bra from a drawer and slipping the panties on.

“What I think is that you lied about your pregnancy. What I think is that you aren’t pregnant. Both of those variables are true. Clearly!” I point in exasperation at her, the bodysuit lying discarded by her feet.

Riley has the decency to hold her head down in shame, but when she looks up again, there’s a fiery passion burning in her eyes.

“You always sit in the seat of judgment, don’t you?” she accuses, pulling her bra on and fastening it.

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, Riley. I don’t judge you.”

“Yes, you do! You’ve always been Daddy’s favorite. You don’t understand what it feels like to be the one who always comes up short. I was never good enough.”

“That’s not true. Daddy doesn’t have favorites, and you’ve always been his baby,” I declare as she grabs a T-shirt and pulls it on over her head.

“You wouldn’t know that, now, would you? You’ve never been compared to me, Quin, or Chase!”

“I’m not doing that with you right now. That has nothing to do with this fake pregnancy.”

“It’s got everything to do with it!” she shouts.

“How, Riley? How?” I demand.

“You have a large, beautiful home, a man who worships the ground you walk on, three amazing kids who adore you, and a successful business. You’re not struggling the way I am with finding someone who loves you unconditionally!”

“What the hell does that have to do with pretending you’re pregnant?” I ask as she dresses in a pair of navy blue leggings.

The look that my sister turns on me makes me wonder if I ever knew this heifer at all!

“It was the only way to get what I needed!”

“Which is what?” I ask, standing as she starts walking toward me.

“Information, Bayleigh. Information is priceless,” she hisses as her face contorts into a caricature of herself.

“What are you talking about?” I ask.

“Zaire. He rules the city. There is too much money running through here for him not to be willing to share with everyone else!”

---