Especially you, I think, but whatever she’s doing seems to be working—Coach Kendall’s gun hand has been dropping steadily as she’s been speaking—so I keep my mouth shut. I shift in place on the ground, my hand brushing Ivy’s, and two of her fingers hook lightly onto mine. Even though her hands are shaking, it’s comforting.
“You need help getting out of this mess,” Lara continues, fluffing her hair again. “So let me help you. From what I can see, we have two options here.”
He cocks his head, considering, then gestures at her with the gun. “Go on.”
“One, we both disappear.” She glances at the bag beside her. “I know you have ID already, and I just got mine—”
“You just got yours?” Coach Kendall’s face hardens again. “There’s no just about it. That shit takes time. How long have you been planning to take off, Lara?”
“I believe in being prepared. You’re in a dangerous business,” Lara says smoothly, but there’s a flicker of apprehension in her eyes that I can’t quite read—like she knows she has to tread lightly here. It occurs to me, suddenly, that maybe Lara was fine with her fiancé’s side business because she realized she could use it to fund a new life for herself.
“Look, I was scared,” Lara continues. “But I love you, Tommy. You know I do.” She gives him the kind of smile that would’ve wrapped me around her finger a day ago. “I understand why you’re angry. I know I made mistakes, but you did, too. If we could get away from all the pressure in this pretentious little town, I think we could fix everything that’s gone wrong between us. And you deserve a break, don’t you think? You’ve worked so hard. So that’s option one. We find a nice beach where we can enjoy ourselves and stop worrying all the time.”
Coach Kendall flicks his eyes between Lara, Ivy, and me. He actually looks like he’s buying her crap, and while that’s good news, it’s also kind of shocking. It’s come to my attention, recently, that I’m a massive sucker, but this is a whole other level. “Interesting,” he says. “Although it throws years of work down the drain. What’s option two?”
I lean forward despite myself. I don’t mind the idea of these two disappearing, but I’m hoping Lara comes up with something even better—like Coach Kendall turning himself in. Maybe that’s wishful thinking, but he seems to be putty in her hands. If anyone can persuade him to do it, it’d be her.
Instead, she tilts her head toward Ivy and me and says, “Frame someone else. Like, these two.”
No. No. No no no no no.
Lara is still talking, even though the world just spun on its axis and should’ve knocked her flat on her ass. “This one is supposed to be smart, right?” she asks, lifting her chin toward Ivy. “At least, she thinks she is. But really, she’s a nasty, vindictive little thing. Half the town already believes she killed Brian. It wouldn’t be that much of a stretch for them to believe she’s a dealer, too, especially if we keep the scale realistic. She doesn’t need to have been running a full operation; it could just be her, Cal, and some stolen prescription pads.” Lara’s voice is all honey and sweetness, despite the poison rolling off her tongue. “All we’d need to do is move a few things to her house, give them both an overdose, and call it a day.”
Ivy makes choking noises beside me as Lara flutters her lashes at Coach Kendall, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. “I mean, there’s more to it than that, obviously, but we can figure out the details together. The important thing is, it keeps the situation contained. No one you work with is implicated. No one except the two of them”—she gestures at Ivy and me—“knows you’re involved, or that I use the studio Brian died in. Besides Dominick, and he won’t say a word. He has an airtight alibi since he was giving a lecture out of town, and he doesn’t want any trouble.”
Mateo and Charlie know, I think, but manage not to blurt it out. I told Lara I’d kept her use of the studio to myself, and it’s better for everyone if she keeps thinking that.
Coach Kendall is silent for what feels like an eternity, and my entire being is focused on sending Vote to Disappear vibes his way. I know it’s no guarantee that Ivy and I will get out of here alive, but it has a one hundred percent better chance than the alternative.
But then he smiles. Actually smiles, like the pathetic, gullible creep that he is. “I like the sound of option two,” he says.