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That gets a laugh out of her, and when Rhea pulls away, she wipes a tear from her cheek. “As far as being sorry for what happened to me,” I pause, unsure what exactly we’re talking about. “None of anything bad that has ever happened to me has been your fault.”
“Oh, come on.” She sobs a little but regains her composure quickly. “If I hadn’t begged you to come to Costa Rica with me, you never would have ended up in that situation.”
It’s not entirely true. I’m sure the circumstances may have been different, but if her father promised her to Davos, I have a feeling that they would have come for her eventually. And I would have been in the way, so I’d have died or ended up in the same circumstances. At least this way I made a tentative connection to her brother that was enough for him to come seek me out.
“If you hadn’t brought me here, then when they did come for us, Remy would have been on the other side of the world completely unprepared. They would have killed me or taken me, and I wouldn’t have been saved because nobody would even realize I was missing.”
It’s a sad reality, and speaking it aloud makes me feel like a ghost in the shell. I suppose our landlord would eventually wonder why the rent wasn’t being paid, but they’d surely attempt to get in touch with Rhea before me. When I failed to show up to the classes I’ve already enrolled in for fall, my professors may eventually wonder what happened to me. Mama would probably assume I never came back after this past summer because I’d grown out of my college comforts, but she too would think first of Rhea.
It doesn’t make me feel any less that I’ve tethered myself so completely to my best friend—I think I did that to survive—but it does make me feel like I’ve lost something. A terrifying realization flits through me as I realize that when we get back to school, I need to do more than just pick a major. I need to make connections that don’t exist solely because of Rhea.
“And as far as you asking if I secretly stalked you to try and become your friend?” I laugh. “It was pure coincidence that we ended up as roommates.”
“And pure coincidence that we’re both fucked up enough to click.”
Her eyes widen like she didn’t mean to say that out loud, but when I bust out laughing, she quickly joins in. “That,” I say when my laughter calms enough for me to speak, “may have been fate more than coincidence.”
She grins, but I don’t think she understands the sincerity with which I said it. I wouldn’t have survived this long if it wasn’t for her, and I’m starting to think that there’s some higher power that wants me to survive longer… even if it’s only to watch as they think of new ways to torture me.
“You’re right,” she nods. “You’re stronger than me. I don’t know if I’d have survived what you did.”
I want to laugh because that sentiment is ridiculous. Rhea is everything I’m not—strong, confident, self-assured, poised. She would have not only navigated captivity with grace, I bet she’d have found a way out on her own. I’m grateful that I wasn’t taken, but also if I’m honest, I feel embarrassed that her brother had to come save me… especially since I was running from him in the first place.
But I don’t want to argue semantics with her, and I don’t want to think about it anymore. “Well, I just pray we never find out.”
Rhea nods, pulling her lower lip between her teeth as she contemplates something. “You know Wes will be there tonight, right?”
His name ignites something in me. I’m not sure what heartburn feels like, but that may be this. “I didn’t,” I admit, “but I am not surprised.” I still don’t know what all Remy revealed to her—if he told her anything else at all. She seems to sense as much because she sucks in a breath.
“Remy told me everything.”
I only blink at her while my brain tries to process what the word ‘everything’ means in this context. “Everything?”
“About Wes, and that Eric guy, and…” She shakes her head. “Just everything. I know he’s keeping Wes in the guest house so that he can use him for information. I kind of wish he’d just bury him on the beach and never breathe his name again.” Her eyes go wide again as she presses a hand to her mouth. “I can’t believe I just said that.”
Unfazed, I shrug. I do realize how detached I am from death, but I’m honestly more worried about how detached from it Rhea is. Or rather, I’m more worried that she isn’t horrified to know her best friend is a killer. I decide to test the waters. “He deserves it.”
“Seriously,” she grumbles. “Some people just don’t deserve to live.”
Interestingly enough, that’s just one more thing we agree upon. The relief that rushes through me comes on so fast I think I may collapse under it. Having the air cleared and all of our secrets out in the open feels like taking my first breath after drowning.
“There’s one more thing,” Rhea says slowly, her eyes searching my face. “I’m sorry for treating you like a child.” I start to open my mouth because I don’t even know what that means, but she rushes on. “You are an adult, Claire. And a freaking badass. If you want to fuck around with my brother, then go for it.”
Her words stun me to silence. I want to object that I have no interest in fucking around with her brother, but that would be a damn lie and after we just eliminated every one of those between us, I’m not going to put it out there. “Sorry,” she lifts a finger, “let me clarify.”
I watch her with nervous energy coiling in my stomach. “As long as you’re careful with your heart, you can fuck around with whoever you want, including my brother… Remy.”
When I laugh, Rhea looks confused. She laughs too, after a minute, and then a realization settles around her. “He didn’t tell you, did he?”
My stomach tightens further at the thought of what Remy may have kept from me. In that context, it sounds horrific. We were stupid and threw ourselves at one another so quickly that we didn’t discuss protection. Does he have some sort of disease? Maybe a girlfriend or a secret wife who’s been vacationing in Paris this past week?
I think Rhea can hear my heart about to beat out of my chest, because she fixes me with a look of pity. “It’s nothing crazy.”
“Okay?” I prompt, waiting for her to put me out of my misery.
When she finally speaks, I have to wonder how far gone she is that she doesn’t think what she reveals is crazy. Maybe I really am the saner between the two of us.
“Wes is our half-brother.”
