Page 67 of Crocodile Tears
“What?!” I yelped, feeling like my soul left my body. This was my fault. I’d brought this upon my family. A terrible question echoed in my mind:what have I done?
“Not helping, Wren,” Finch gritted out, tucking Wren behind her again. “We’re supposed to be breaking this to her gently, guys.”
“Death threats?” I asked, horrified. “But those are just keyboard warriors online. That’s not . . . not a real concern. Is it?”
“We’ve had a couple calls from the shoreline police station.” Hawk sighed. “They know where you live because you live where you work and where you work is in every headline in every major news site today.”
“Not the kind of publicity the zoo was hoping for,” Mom said, trying to make it sound like a joke, but it was more like a groan.
“It makes you a target,” Hawk continued. “Some of these things sound credible, and I’m not taking a risk with my family.”
“This is crazy.” I shook my head. “We have electric fences and cameras at every entrance and . . . What is even happening right now?”
“This is what happens when you date one of the most famous men in Hollywood,” Finch said with a shrug. “But we’ll figure it out, Dovey. It will be okay.”
“This is too much,” I whispered, eyes pricking with tears. “I can’t. I can’t do this. I can’t do this to all of you.”
Wren gasped at her phone. “Oh my god.”
“Whatever you’ve just seen, Wren, we don’t need to know about it,” Finch grumbled. Wren showed her phone to Finch. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” she exclaimed.
“What?” My heart thundered in my chest as Wren showed her phone to Hawk.
“He fucked a Madigan?” Hawk shouted.
“What?!” I screamed, lurching forward and grabbing the phone from Wren’s grip.
On it was grainy footage of a couple on the beach, the title reading:“Does Deacon Harrow Have a Type? Old Footage of Deacon Harrow Kissing Lynx Madigan Surfaces Amid Latest Cheating Drama.”
I watched the clip all the way through twice, tears welling in my eyes before my mother gently extracted the phone from my grip.
“Honey, I?—”
“Don’t,” I said, voice wobbling.
Mom’s phone buzzed and she picked up. “Kirby? You okay? I thought you were still in Greece.” Mom looked at me. “Yeah, she’s seen it.” Her eyes flared. “They’ve been trying to reach you at the Salty Dog? Why? There’s no story there.”
“Oh my god.” I dropped my elbows onto the countertop, head in my hands as Finch circled her palm down my back in calming strokes.
“Kirby,” Mom continued. “Petey’s calling me. I’ve got to go. Okay. Bye.” She switched lines. “Petey, hi. Yes. She’s seen it. How did they get your number? What?” Mom exclaimed, covering the speaker and looking at Hawk. “Someone is trying to hire Petey to drive them around the island and take photos of us.”
“What did he say?”
“I normally wouldn’t repeat what he said,” Mom hedged. “But since this is kind of an emergency, he said, ‘Get fucked.’”
“Well done,” Finch said with a huff.
“They are offering him a lot of money for any stories he might have on Dove, too.”
“They’re probably calling every person I’ve ever known in my entire life right now.” I groaned. “I don’t understand why thishappened all at once. I thought he had a team that dealt with this stuff. Why now?”
“I have no idea,” Finch said. “But it’s going to be okay, Dove. We’ve been through worse.”
“Worse than this?” I shouted, unable to contain my panic. “We can’t—we can’t—I won’t put you all through this. I won’t put you in danger. This is insane. I . . .”
“Maybe you should sit down,” Hawk suggested, taking me by the elbow. “You look like you’re going to pass out.”
“I can’t do this,” I said again, voice breaking as I burst into panicked tears.
