Page 78 of Wicked Minds
When it comes to life, not requiring a password, I snort before scouring through the hard drive. Nothing jumps out at me, so I open the web browser and search through her history. I practically roll my eyes at the list of designer stores, skipping over those links. Nothing else stands out, and I’m about to give up when a website catches my eye—Craigslist. It’s not exactly what I was looking for—not that I knowwhatexactly I’m here for. But based on her shopping history, Riley’s mom doesn’t strike me as afind second-hand bargains on Craigslistsorta woman.
Her login details fill in automatically, signing me into her account, and I navigate tosearches.It comes up saying there are no saved searches, but I notice a(1)beside thepostingstab and click on it.
Person seeking key that unlocks hidden knowledge, where shadows whisper secrets and truth lies veiled.
What the fuck?What the hell does that even mean? I notice the cryptic message was posted earlier this evening and has not received any response.Not to wonder.Perhaps Riley’s mom is delusional. Or has early onset Alzheimer’s? There has to be something because whatever this post is, it’s cryptic nonsense.
Still, I take note of Lydia’s username—riches&glamor— then pull up the website on my phone and search for the post from my account. I stare at it for several moments until a notification pops up on my screen:Three missed calls from Logan.
It’s followed a moment later by a text from him.
Logan
For real, man, where are you?! I need my potato chip fix.
Sighing, I get to my feet, knowing he’ll blow my phone up every thirty seconds until I respond, and then until I get home.
I message him back, telling him I’ll be home shortly and that I’ll get him his stupid chips before doing a final scan of the room. Not spotting anything else, I sneak out the way I came in and jog back to my truck.
I think about that post the entire way back to Halston.
“Did you get the chips?” Logan calls the second I’m through the door.
“No.”
“What the fuck, man? You said—Ha ha.” He’d come stomping into the hall in a rage, but seeing me standing there, holding his bag of stupid chips with a grin, he scowls, snatching them from me before collapsing on the couch.
“Gray?”
“Who the fuck knows.”
I blow out an exasperated breath. Gray has been MIA since we bailed on our chat. Which, admittedly, I feel shit about. It wasn’t done intentionally. I lost track of time after seeing Riley at The Depot. Then I was so caught up in everything she was saying and ensuring she was okay… it was only when we got home that I remembered Gray had been waiting for us.
I’ve tried to talk to him several times since, but he’s shut me out. Shut both of us out. He’s barely home anymore, and when he is, he holes up in his room, refusing to come out.
Sighing, I drop onto the couch beside Logan. “What are we gonna do?”
“Wanna play some NHL 24?” he asks, handing me a controller.
I give him a deadpan stare. “I meant about Gray.”
“Why do we have to do anything? He’s the one acting like a bag of dicks.”
“Do you want to throw away four years of friendship? To live in this environment for the rest of the year—dating Riley while Gray hates our guts for it? What about the fact that he has a half-sister he doesn’t know about and a dad manipulating him, and he needs our help more than he actually realizes?”
Logan frowns. “Alright, alright, I get it. Logan and Royce to the rescue, so what do we do?”
“That’s what I’m asking you,” I state, exasperated.
“Fuck if I know. We can’t just tell him about Aurora. That would be breaking Riley’s trust, and there’s no fucking way I’m doing that again. He isn’t going to listen to us if we try to talk to him about his dad...”
“There’s something on his mind,” I muse aloud. “He looks like shit any time I see him.”
“Maybe it’s his Gran,” Logan theorizes. “Or his insides slowly decaying because they know he’s being an insufferable asshole.”
I snort in agreement.
“He agreed to all four of us sitting down to talk on Christmas Day… maybe he’d do that again?” Logan suggests.
