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“No!” Cal shouts back. “I will not shut the fuck up. If these two are keeping secrets, that fucks with the infield.”
“Cruz’s life is not part of the game,” Jake quips. “None of our lives are.”
“Secrets aren’t—”
“Come on,” he cuts Cal off, cold. “Cruz’s dad is a tenured professor at one of the best universities in the world. He’s invited to lecture and teach all over. Not to mention his mom was a respected painter who sold out galleries, which you’d know if your head wasn’t up your ass all the time. Cruz doesn’t need the Butler money. He’s got his own.”
Cal’s eyes cloud over. “What about the whole poor kid from the Bronx thing?”
“I never said I was poor,” I say dryly. “You assumed that because of where I was from. So apparently, it’s my head that’s been up my ass because I never knew what a judgmental piece of shit you were until now. But you know, none of that matters at the moment. The only thing that matters is this.”
I pull out the flier and show it to Jake. “What’s that?” Marcusasks.
“Some sick fucker is targeting Ellery,” I explain as he looks at it over Jake’s shoulder. “And I’ll give you one guess.”
“Royce?” Jake looks up.
“My thoughts exactly. Can we call your dad and ask how that search on Jane Doe is coming along?”
“Sure man.” He shakes his head.
“Now?” I press. “I wouldn’t ask unless it was important. When you’re done, I’ll call the lab and check on that report from her father’s autopsy.”
“Of course.” He hands me the flier, then nods down the hall. “Let’s call him from my room.”
We make our way out of the room and head for the stairs. “Cruz?” Cal shouts. “Is there anything I can do?”
I don’t answer. I trust Jake with my life, and Marcus as well. But right now I don’t trust Cal to do my laundry, let alone share in my worry over who may be after Ellie. I’ll deal with him later. For now, he can fuck right the hell off.
Chapter 24
Ellery
The sound of footsteps coming down the hall shifts my attention from the book open in my lap. I look up, expecting to see my best friend, but surprised when I see Courtney standing in the doorway.
“Jesus, Elle, your room’s a mess,” she says accusingly, looking around in disgust.
I slam the book shut and push up from the bed, surprised to see her. “What are you doing here?”
I haven’t seen or talked to Courtney since the night of the ball. Yet here she was, leaning against my door, tapping her perfectly manicured nails against the frame as if we’ve seen each other every day since.
“I came to see what’s been keeping you busy all summer.” She shifts her attention to the bed and I follow her gaze. “Looks like I found it. Jesus, what is all this shit?”
“It’s none of your business.” I push the books and papers into a pile, then toss the throw at the end of my bed over it. “What are you doing here?”
“Well…” She pushes up from the doorframe and walks into my room. “You seem so busy lately I thought I’d drop by.”
“Me?” I laugh. “If anyone’s been busy it’s all of you. I haven’t seen you, Dex, or anyone really since the ball.”
She looks at me pityingly and crosses her arms. “Well, what you did to Royce was pretty fucked up. Leaving him stag to go home with your brother because you were sick,” she air quotes. “I mean really, Elle.”
The way she says it, raises my hackle feathers. “You have noidea what happened that night, so why don’t you just butt out.”
“Why don’t you just butt out,” she mimics in a piss poor imitation of my voice. “God, you’re pathetic. I don’t know why of all the people in the world, it had to be you.”
“Why, what had to be me? Royce’s crush. If you’re jonesing to date him, he’s all yours.”
“I do not want to date Royce,” she laughs. “But yeah, I’m talking about his… focus. I mean, you’ve got the looks. I’ll admit, I’m envious of that rack of yours. But your charm and grace is seriously lacking.”
