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“He’s not going to do anything about her.”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I know what she did to him. You know what she did to him, but he’s not going to say it. He won’t use that word, but we know. That ain’t right. And he’s a guy. He’s not going to tell anyone. He won’t go to any authority to get her in trouble, but she’s not going to get away with this.”
I was catching up, seeing a wrathful side of my friend and liking it.
Willow, I’m thinking you would get along with Maren.
“What are you saying?” I asked.
She raised her chin up. “I don’t want to just hurt her. I want to ruin her.”
A sensation synced inside of me, a feeling of something clicking into place. In these situations, I wasn’t the friend who appealed to rationality. Reason. Nope. I tended to enjoy leaning into where we were a little unhinged. It was more cathartic and a lot more fun.
I smiled. “I’m in.”
And I swear that I heard Willow laugh beside me, No joke, Mac. If I ever killed someone, you’re the one I’d call because you’d help bury the body.
I frowned at that idea, then shrugged. There was some truth in that statement.
My phone began ringing after we were in the car.
Maren said, “It’s Ryan, again.”
I shook my head. I was the one driving because I was the more stable one at the moment, and we were on our way to pick up Lauren. Maren hadn’t wanted to include her, but I was adamant. I said as we were leaving the house and going to my car, “We don’t have to involve her where she’s helping us do anything, but she has this tendency to know people. She might know someone who could help us out, so I want to just ask her about Rispins, see if she knows her or knows someone who knows her.”
Maren had been doubtful, but after a quick call, it turned out that I was right.
Lauren did know Kellie and she did not have a high opinion of her. Hence, we were on our way to find Lauren, because from my internet search earlier today, we had enough to blast Kellie on social media. We could put out there what she’d done in the past and what she tried to do, and maybe it might hurt her, but it wasn’t enough. If we put out details, it could backfire and get her more attention, so I wanted to find more dirt on her, dirt that we couldn’t find online.
We just hung up with Lauren when Ryan’s first call came through.
Maren declined his call, but my phone lit up almost immediately after. She sighed, accepting his eighth call, saying warily, “Hi, Ryan.”
He was quiet a moment before growling, “Where the fuck is my girlfriend?”
“I’m here. I’m driving.”
Maren added quickly, “You’re on speakerphone.”
“Take me off speakerphone,” he ordered briskly.
“No,” I called out. “I’m driving.”
“Where are you driving to?”
He was trying to rein in some control. There was a threat against us, against me, Maren, Cris, or him, it didn’t quite matter to Ryan. It was a threat and I was involved, so his instincts were to find me, claim me, and protect me at all cost. He didn’t realize that this time, it was my job to do that for him. Mine and Maren’s job. I said, “We’re on our way to pick up Lauren.”
“Lauren?”
“Yeah. From last night. She’s—”
“I know who she is, but why? We’re in the middle of something here and I get done talking with the guys and with Coach, and see you both hightailing your asses to your car. What are you doing, Mac?”
I grimaced because he asked me a direct question and I couldn’t lie to him. Fuckity fuck fuck fuck.
As if knowing my dilemma, Maren took over, lifting the phone back to her, “We’re doing a girls’ night.”
