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“Of course it’s not his style, because that’s not how the Remmingtons play the game,” Peyton scoffed.
“You think this is about the game?”
“Honey, everything in this entire damn city is about the game. It never ends. Never. The old money roulette is a repetitive cycle of gorgeous, rich assholes fucking up other rich assholes’ lives while wearing the best designer clothes and sharing some bubbly with superficial smiles.” He grabbed the customary motel notepad and a pen from beside the prehistoric landline.
“What are you doing?” I asked, trying to see what he was writing.
“He’s doing what we promised we would: helping you,” Melody answered for him.
My brows slanted inward from confusion. Apparently I’d missed something, because they seemed to know exactly what was going on. “Are you going to explain?”
“Look.” Peyton stood and moved so he was crouched in front of me. On the notepad were tiny bullets with events scrawled beside them.
“Someone was able to lure your sister back to Vice City, get her on drugs, and had her selling herself for money. That someone then told her about the ledger to coerce her into stealing it.” He flipped the page up and continued. “It’s not a stretch to assume this person is responsible for sending someone in to make it look like you tried to commit suicide, and then send someone back a year later to take out your aunt.”
“Then your family—er, Mateo—had you brought back to Remmington Square,” Melody inserted.
I rubbed the back of my neck, trying to alleviate the dull throb in my skull. This was a lot of information to take in, but that didn’t stop me from realizing how much sense it all sort of made.
“This person could be the one who sent the albinos to Raine’s house, right? And responsible for…that?” I gestured towards the tiny box of ash.
“It sounds like some huge conspiracy plot, but this is the game in its true form. I just don’t understand why this is happening to you. I mean, no offense, but your family isn’t exactly a threat to anyone,” Melody stated.
I waved her off. The Rias family was too fucked up to threaten anyone, especially with my parents long gone. Someone was working their own angle.
“That’s the big question then, isn’t it? Finding out why would anyone do all of this? What the point is?”
Peyton shook his head, causing a strand of blond hair to fall across his creased forehead.
Flipping another page in the notebook, he jotted down something else before holding it up for me to see.
“Queen of diamonds, king of hearts, and ace of spades.”
I was instantly reminded of the shaded tattoo Mateo had on one side of his body with those same three playing cards. I was the queen, which made Mateo the king. There was another person unaccounted for.
“You don’t ask why, you ask who, because as soon as you have the answer, you can ask the questions,” Peyton explained, reading my mind.
“You sound as cryptic as Mateo,” I grumbled. “Do you think he knows who it is?”
Peyton gave me a look.
“The Remmingtons play this game better than anyone; I’m positive he knows, but clearly they’re not on the same side,” Melody answered, standing up.
“What about that pregnant girl you two were telling me about?”
“Camilla? No one’s seen her in years…I suppose it’s possible, but she has no motive to go after you. We’ll keep digging. In the meantime, try to get some sleep. I brought you some Advil PM.” Peyton stood, placing a quick kiss on my cheek.
“We’ll figure it out, El,” Melody assured me. “Are you good
on cash? There are some bottles of water and a Gatorade on the table.”
“I’m fine. The wallets I took had more than enough to cover me for a few nights.” I was worried about missing my Prozac. I’d never attempted to go so long without it. I wasn’t even sure what the actual pills were that Mateo had swapped them for.
I kept that concern to myself, though, not wanting to worry them any more than they already were.
After a quick hug goodbye, I told them to be careful as they left the building.
When they were gone and the locks were back in place, I turned and sagged against the door.
