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Addicted for Now (Addicted, #3)(181)

Author:Krista Ritchie & Becca Ritchie

“Listen to me,” Lo breathes in his ear. “Meeting you was the best thing that’s ever happened to us. I’m sober and Lily’s in recovery. None of that would have been possible if it wasn’t for you.” He shakes Ryke, and a tear slips out of Lo’s eye. “You are the fucking reason I’m with the girl I love; you’re my brother, so don’t you ever feel guilty for what’s happened now. That’s not on you.” He holds up Ryke’s face to look him in the eyes. “Hey, you hear me?”

Ryke nods over and over, trying to believe the words. After a long pause, Ryke says in a strained voice, “Our parents spent so much time hating each other that they didn’t even fucking realize what they were doing to us.” He shakes his head in a daze.

Lo squeezes his shoulder.

I stay quiet, not wanting to disturb them, but I’m thankful that through all of this, they both have each other. Even though Sara and Jonathan repelled their child with their constant fighting, they’ve also unconsciously drawn their sons together.

Ryke stares at the boxes. “I’m never coming back here.”

“Are you sure?” Lo asks.

“Yeah,” Ryke nods. He pats Lo’s back. “Yeah, I’m sure.” And through the silence, I hear the words that pass between them.

You’re my family.

I think we can finally move on.

{ 52 }

LOREN HALE

My father didn’t tell me Sara Hale was the leak to protect himself. Or me.

He was protecting Ryke.

While the news has devastated Ryke, I am freed by it. I can stop being so rooted in hate. Now I can try to be a better man than my father. I can breathe.

My fist raps a black door. No one stands beside me. No one’s here for me to lean on. I am alone with my own resolve, and maybe months ago that wouldn’t have been enough.

The door flies open and almost swings right back in my face. I brace the frame with a hand. “Hear me out,” I tell him.

Aaron Wells lets out an exasperated sigh, but he surrenders to my plea. “What do you want, Loren? I thought we already had this talk four months ago?” It’s been that long?

“This is a different talk.”

His eyes darken and he crosses his arms over his chest. “You’re not coming inside this time, and just so you know Julie isn’t home. So don’t try screaming for her either.”

“I don’t want to talk to Julie.”

“Then what do you want?” What do I want? Why do people always ask me that?

“You met me at a really bad time in my life, and you were just being nice by inviting me to your party.”

“And then you broke every wine bottle in my parent’s cellar. Yeah, I remember,” he says. “Is this your way of apologizing? Is this like Step 7 in AA or something? Do you have to go around and ask for forgiveness from everyone you screwed over?”

I shake my head. “It’s nothing like that. I’m not asking you to forgive me, and I can’t forgive you for what you did to Lily.” I want to, but maybe that type of strength is out of my control.

His jaw locks, and I sense that he’s about to slam the door back in my face. “But,” I say quickly, “one of us should have been the bigger person and stopped it before it got out of hand.”

“You mean before you and your father made sure I wouldn’t get accepted into an Ivy League,” he growls. “Thanks for that.”

“Look, you don’t have to be my friend or anything. You can hate me all you want, but I came here to tell you that I’m sorry.” The words are hard to produce, and I don’t feel exactly better by saying them. I’m not searching for that relief. I just know that this is right. And this is what I have to do. “I’m done,” I say. “Whatever shit we had in the past, it’s the past for me. You want to carry it around, fine. Regardless, I want you to have these.” I remove two white envelopes from my back pocket.

His eyes glaze over them with curiosity and then he snorts. “Are you buying my forgiveness with tickets to Wrigley Field?”

“You told me that you couldn’t get a job and compete with Ivy grads,” I say. “That should help start your career. Greg Calloway and my father wrote references for you. I know there’s lots of bad energy with the companies, but Fizzle and Hale Co. are still world-renowned. It still means something.”

Aaron stares at the letters and shakes his head. “I don’t want your fucking charity, especially if you’re only doing this to make yourself feel better.”