“What was that all about?” I ask him as I cross my arms over my chest and find those blue eyes of his flicking up to me in surprise. There's a pair of glasses on the desk, both filled with water. On the other side, my dad has a crystal tumbler of scotch.
“Lyric, I didn't know you were here. Your sister said you called in sick this morning.” I open my mouth to feed him a worthy excuse, but I needn't have bothered; my dad doesn't give a crap. “That was Heather Shelley and José Garza from the FBI. They were here about Brent.” Mr. Rentz pauses to take a sip of his drink, waving a hand dismissively in my direction. “Actually, they were hoping to talk to you. If I'd known you'd come in, I would've given you the office to talk.”
I feel my throat constrict again. Uh-oh. This doesn't look good, does it? I called Brent here. Me. He was supposed to be doing me a favor. And yeah, so Royal says he had other plans long before I contacted him, but the suspicion will still be there.
“Me? Why'd they need to talk to me?” The mayor's already dismissed me in his mind, certain that there could be no roadblocks in paradise, particularly not with his dutiful little daughter. I stare at the back of his dark head, hair sleek and perfect, not a single strand of gray in sight. He's turned away from me now, rifling through some drawer on his built-in bookcase.
“They're headed to the hospital now to talk to Sully.”
Fuck.
“What do they need to talk to him for?” I ask, sounding indignant. My dad turns slightly in his chair to look at me, but pauses when his cell rings, checking the screen and holding up a finger to me as he answers in his cheeriest, most jovial voice.
“Judge Franco, to what do I owe the pleasure?” A privileged masculine laugh follows, one that makes me sick to my stomach. Philip will be on the phone with this guy for a while, one of his buddies. I don't have time to stick around and wait, so I leave, letting the door swing shut behind me as I snatch my new cell from my pocket and dial up my brother.
“What?” Sully answers right away, his voice drugged and groggy and thick. Understandable considering my new boyfriend beat the crap out of him with a hammer. Dear God, what have I gotten myself into? Am I losing it? Am I really, truly going nuts this time?
“There are two FBI agents on their way to the hospital to talk to you,” I whisper, sliding into the upstairs bathroom and locking the door. It's a tasteful room with brand-new fixtures, heated tile floors that nobody will ever use, and photographs of the local area. I close the lid on the toilet and sit down, staring across the small space at a green and brown picture of a dewy fern.
“Wha-” My brother coughs, and my heart skips a few beats. Despite how stupid he is, I really do love him. Part of me wants to hate Royal for what he did, and the other part knows that in Royal's world, what he did for Sully was a favor. “What do you mean?”
“I guess it's something about Brent, I don't know. But you better not say anything.”
“Do you think I'm that stupid, Lyric? Jesus. Why are you even calling me? Are you trying to make us look suspicious? We haven't even done anything, so don't act like there's a reason to panic. Brent came here to do you a favor, check on the Wolves, make sure there wasn't anything fishy going on that could compromise the contract with the city. That's it. Simple and easy.”
“That is not a good story to tell, Sully,” I say, sweat beading on my forehead. “That won't work. Come up with something else.” I can practically see him gawping at me from his hospital bed.
“It's the truth, as far as you knew a few days ago. Jesus, Lyric, what's this all about?”
“Don't tell them anything. Nothing at all. Not even that. Let me think for a minute. By the time they come to talk to me, I'll figure out what to say.”
“Lyric—” he starts, but I'm done listening. I have another phone call to make.
“I have to go, Sully,” I tell him, putting my sternest, hardest voice into play. “If you say anything, Royal will probably have his boys … help you escape another mugging.”
There's a moment of silence, punctuated solely by Sully's harsh breathing.
“Are you serious right now? How do you know about that? Did that guy threaten you, too?”
“I have to go. Just keep your mouth shut, or we'll both be in hot water. I know there's nothing you hate more than listening to me, but just do it this once and don't fucking argue.”
I hang up and dial Royal right away, my pulse thumping in my throat. I'm sure I'm overreacting, sure of it, but the punishment for underreacting here is big. Huge.
“Missed the sound of my voice already, eh, love?”