Savage Little Lies: Chapter 16

Sloane

“Do I know your parents, Sloane? Your mom? Your dad?” Mrs. Reed asked while she mashed a bowl of potatoes. She, Bow, and I were in the Reeds’ kitchen, and though I’d been there before, I still couldn’t get over how completely ritzy the whole place was. Their kitchen was just a stunning top-off to the exquisite picture that was the entire Reed manor. I mean, these people had gardens and people to tend them.

Coming over tonight, I was surprised Mrs. Reed and her daughter were cooking. I knew they had household staff, but I hadn’t seen any today. Well, no one but Janet. She’d let me in when I got here, but it appeared they’d given her and the rest of their staff the night off.

I thought it was nice the pair of them were making dinner tonight. I even offered to help, but Mrs. Reed waved a hand at me. The woman certainly didn’t mind getting her hands dirty. She had flour on her nose from the homemade rolls she’d put in the oven earlier. Mrs. Reed grinned. “I feel like I know you, or have seen you before? I must know your parents.”

Bow studied the pair of us from the kitchen island. She was preparing a salad, and she was definitely aware I was here. Her eyes hadn’t left me. I hadn’t gotten a chance to talk to her tonight yet. Her mom was busy chatting with me most of the evening so far.

I shook my head at Mrs. Reed. “I don’t think so. My brother, Bru, and I just moved here.”

“Really? Where from?”

“Chicago. Well, most recently. We’ve been all over before coming here.”

Bow’s eyes lifted in our direction again, and between the two of them, there was enough food here to feed an army.

Though judging by the size of the guys in their household…

Mr. Reed hadn’t shown up yet, but he was just as large as Thatcher. Mrs. Reed said he was still at work, but would be around for dinner. As far as Thatcher, I was sure a hefty part of this meal would be for him once he did get back from practice. The guy was a fucking building.

“Interesting,” Mrs. Reed said, looking at me, and I wondered why. In any sense, she smiled before waving Bow over.

“Can you finish mashing these, sweetie? I’m going to take a plate of what we got to your grandma.”

Bow nodded at her mother, and after the woman left, Bow sighed.

“My gram’s too sick to come down,” Bow said, mashing. Her jaw moved. “It’s best she eats upstairs so…”

Last time I was here, she mentioned a sick grandma. “Is she okay?”

That felt like a dumb question, and I instantly regretted it.

Bow’s attention stayed on the potatoes. She shrugged. “Every day is different. Some days it feels like yeah. Others, no. She’s my dad’s mom.”

She moved the potatoes over to the kitchen island, putting them next to the salad.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

Bow acknowledged what I said, her head bobbing once. “You said Bru’s sick?”

I eased over to her. I grabbed my arm. “We honestly don’t know what’s up. It’s kept him out of school.”

“I know,” she said, and my eyes flashed. Her head tilted. “We haven’t seen him around, and Ares mentioned something.”

Which meant my brother’s friends, i.e., all the guys, knew my brother was sick but were still ignoring him. They were doing that because of me and a lie, which was fucked up.

“He also mentioned you guys were doing some kind of project together…”

“I didn’t say anything, Bow.”

Her eyes flashed this time, big, wide. She blinked. “I want to believe you.”

Then why wouldn’t she? Why would she let them get to her?

Her head lowered, hands on the counter. “I even told them that I didn’t believe you would, and if you did, it was probably an accident.” She lifted a hand. “You said something to someone, and it got to the wrong people…”

So she stood up for me. At least, tried.

Her jaw shifted. “I want to be on your side.”

“Then be on it. Don’t group with them.”

She bunched fingers into her hair. “I want to. I do, but there are things I don’t get.”

“What things?”

Her expression fell. “They said I can’t trust you, and if I can’t, I don’t know if I can trust what you say.”

I started to say something, and she hugged her arms.

“It’s hard, Sloane, because I trust them,” she said. “I trust them with everything. They’re my family, and you’ve…” She started, sighing. “You’ve lied to me before.”

I had lied to her.

And apparently, that had damned me.

The room was silent when her mom bounced into it.

“I found the wine on the way back.” Mrs. Reed waved two bottles. She set them down on the counter. “Though obviously not for you kiddos.”

The woman booty-bumped her daughter, but it didn’t elicit much of a reaction out of her. Mrs. Reed placed an arm around her. “Everything okay?”

Bow, of course, nodded and even stapled on her cuter-than-heck grin. She was terribly good at that, but I always knew when she was putting it on. When she didn’t mean it, her smile didn’t reach her eyes.

Coming over was a bad idea, huge, but I was already here.

If Mrs. Reed knew her daughter was off, she didn’t make a thing of it. She let go of her daughter, then proceeded to get some wineglasses. She’d just placed them down when a large man sauntered into the room and surprised her from the back. Crazy big, he pulled her clear off her feet, and I’d never heard a grown woman squeal so loud.

“Knight Reed,” she gritted, shocked but laughing at the same time. She slapped at his hands. “One day, you’re going to catch me with something hot in my hands.”

“I know the feeling, baby,” the man crooned, and Bow palmed her face when her dad literally planted a kiss on her mother in the middle of the kitchen.

Bow rolled her eyes. “Dad, please. We have guests.”

He seemed not to be bothered by this, definitely bending his wife over in the kitchen, but Mrs. Reed wasn’t having that. She kicked at him until he let go of her, her face flushed. She physically had to force a man the size of a good portion of this kitchen away from her.

“Honestly, Knight,” Mrs. Reed said, but did smile. She eyed me. “And Bow does have guests. Her friend is here to join us tonight for dinner.”

“A friend, eh?” Mr. Reed worked around, his hands sliding into his pockets. He was dressed more casual than the last time I’d seen him. He wore a dark sweater with lightly colored pants. He put a finger out. “Noa Sloane? The friend who is not a boy.”

I laughed at that, and surprisingly, Bow did a little too. When I’d first met her dad, he had believed I was a boy because of my name. I waved. “Still not a boy, Mr. Reed.”

“Very good,” Mr. Reed grunted, but he smiled. He placed an arm around Mrs. Reed. “And a friend of Bow. Always nice to see that.”

He eyed back to Bow, and her eyes lifted again. She really didn’t have a lot of people over, and after talking to her, some pieces were definitely getting put together.

Legacy held a solid place in this girl’s life, which only pissed me off more. Dorian had left bodies in his wake. He’d not only left me, but left me to burn. He didn’t care about me and definitely didn’t care how his friends treated me.

I really wanted to leave. I felt sick, but worse, I felt sick because I felt sick. I didn’t want to feel anything. I wanted to feel nothing.

“The hell are you doing here?”

The bark came from across the room, the laughter from Mr. and Mrs. Reed fading. The pair of them swiveled around to find their son in the middle of the kitchen. His hair was wet and his teeth bared. He had a gym bag on his shoulder, a Windsor Prep Football T-shirt across his bulky chest, and he hadn’t come alone.

Wells Ambrose backed him up, his bottle-blond locks also wet with shine. He cleared them from rage-filled eyes. “Why are you here?”

“And why are you both speaking to her like that?” Laughter completely gone, Mrs. Reed clacked her heels in that direction. She folded her arms. “And, Thatcher, what are you and Wells doing? I thought your practice was running long. Why are you here?”

“Coach let some of us out early. Invited Wells over after showers to get food.” He growled it out, that same rage in Wells’s eyes lacing his own. He shot a finger at me. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

“And apparently, you’ve forgotten who you are in this kitchen, son, and who you are to me. Your mother?” A similar blaze hit Mr. Reed’s eyes. Actually, the man was snarling to the point where I checked myself, and he hadn’t even been talking to me. His dark eyebrows narrowed. “What’s with the disrespect, and why are you speaking to Bow’s friend like this?”

Thatcher laser-focused on Bow. The sophomore had her hands on the bar, but she didn’t look away.

Some kind of exchange passed between them then, but not long before Mr. Reed cut Thatcher’s focus off. He cut his hand in the air. “You got a half a second to speak, son. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

“She’s trouble,” he said, point-blank. He obviously wasn’t wasting those seconds, and I noticed he didn’t look away from his father again. “Dad—”

“To your room.”

“But, Dad—”

Just a look made Thatcher shut up. He wet his lips, his earrings reflecting the light off the kitchen’s chandelier.

Saying he snorted like an actual bull before leaving that kitchen was an understatement. With his own glare (in my direction), Wells started to follow him.

Mr. Reed raised a hand. “My son needs to cool off,” he said, then nodded. “And you need to explain why you both came in here so hot. Hot toward her?”

Mr. Reed directed the room’s attention on me, and I was solid in place. I never should have come over here.

Wells’s gaze landed on me, his shrug subtle before he pocketed his hands.

“You have nothing to say, then?” Mrs. Reed said this time. She frowned. “You sure had a lot before.”

“It was a rough practice,” Wells ground out. His eyes blazed at me. “We just weren’t trying to deal with folks from school.” He jutted his chin toward me. “Girls like her like to gossip. Talk.”

There was so much laced there in what he said, so much while saying so little. This was their turf, and I wasn’t welcome.

“Sounds like another field trip might be warranted to the ballet,” Mr. Reed growled, and though I didn’t understand the reference, it certainly got Wells’s attention. The tall blond shot ramrod straight.

“No, sir. That’s not necessary,” he said, and something I noticed was their dynamic. He spoke to Mr. Reed with respect, and Mr. Reed spoke to him like his kid.

They really were brothers.

There was some deep shit here, shit I clearly didn’t understand.

Mr. Reed bunched his hair. “Go get seated for dinner. After, you head home.”

Wells nodded, placing a glance my way one more time.

The parents watched him on his way out. Bow watched him.

I grabbed my purse off the counter.

It was Bow to notice that first, then Mr. and Mrs. Reed. Mrs. Reed came around the island. “Sloane—”

“I need to go,” I said, shaking my head. “I shouldn’t have come. I have my brother anyway. I mentioned he’s sick so… I, uh, I should head home.”

It took all I had not to physically cry, and I didn’t cry. I wasn’t that girl. But I was embarrassed. Angry.

Frustrated.

I visibly shook in the Reeds’ kitchen, and it took everything not to be rude and run from the room.

Mr. Reed frowned. “I don’t know what’s going on with you kids, but the boys have a habit of being chronically inept when it comes to treating others with respect as of late.”

“They do,” Mrs. Reed agreed. “Please don’t let them scare you off. You’re our guest. Bow’s guest.”

I didn’t feel like Bow’s guest either. I mean, she didn’t want me here.

She’d told me that herself.

Even now, she was finding it hard to look at me.

I nodded at that. “I need to go but thank you. So much…”

“Sloane. Dear…”

I couldn’t stay to hear what Mrs. Reed said, and I guessed I was the trash that Legacy treated me like when they first met me. I just couldn’t stay.

I was done.