“You know I’ll always take care of you, baby sis.” I pull her into a headlock and mess up her hair to punctuate my statement.
“Ugh! Get off me, dickface!”
I laugh as she tries—unsuccessfully, I might add—smoothing down her hair. “You love it when I fuck with you.”
“No, I don’t. Don’t make me sic Reed on you.”
“Don’t even get me started on that nonsense.”
Ainsley narrows her eyes. “What nonsense?”
“You and Reed,” I clarify. “I don’t like it.”
When one of my closest friends told me he wanted to date my sister, let's say I wasn't very gracious about it. Unfortunately, my twin doesn't really give a shit what I think, and Reed is so goddamn enamored with her, he doesn't either. They're just lucky I have plenty of other things to worry about, so I'm not fighting them. But if he winds up hurting her, best friend or not, I'm going to beat his ass.
“I don’t really care.” Ainsley turns up her pert nose. “Besides...technically, there is no me and Reed. Yet.”
Well, that’s news to me. You’d never know it by how often they’re making fuck-me eyes at each other.
“Explain.”
She shrugs. “Don’t get your hopes up. There will be a me and Reed. We just haven’t had any formal discussions or...you know, screwed each other’s brains out, to make it official yet.”
“Oh, Christ,” I gag. “I do not want to hear about your sex life, Ains. Especially when Reed is involved.”
Ainsley laughs. “You asked.”
I point at her. “I did not ask. For future reference, I never want to hear about your sex life. Ever.”
My sister scoffs. "Don't be a child. We're legal adults, and it's perfectly okay to have a healthy sex life, whether you're male or female. Besides, you're the one who lost his virginity at fourteen, four years before me, so you have no room to judge.”
“I’m not judging.” I hold my hands up in a conciliatory gesture. “But I still don’t want to hear about you fucking my best friend.”
Reed's sexual preferences aren't exactly vanilla. The last thing I need is to think about him doing that shit with my sister.
“Speaking of best friends...” she says. “You talk to Bentley lately? I’ve been worried about him since everything went down with Jazz. I’m sure he’s thinking about Carissa a lot right now.”
I shrug. “He seems okay so far, but I’m keeping an eye on it.”
Ainsley sighs. “Bentley tries hiding it, but I know it still hurts him pretty badly.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. “Yeah, I know.”
“When’s the last time you saw him?”
"Right before I came home, actually. Ran into him at Jazz's house, and we got burgers after."
Her eyebrows lift. "What was Bentley doing at Jazz's?"
“He was fucking taking a nap with her.”
Ainsley’s hazel eyes widen so much, they look like they’re about to pop out of her skull. “Seriously?”
“Yep.” I pop the P at the end of the word.
I frown as the image of Bentley and Jazz wrapped around each other darts into my head. It drives me crazy knowing there’s a mutual attraction between them, and not just in a physical sense. Granted, it’s not nearly as strong as the connection Jazz and I share, but it’s there nonetheless.
Frankly, it’s confusing as fuck because I want my best friend to be happy. After Carissa died, Bentley blamed himself and subsequently shut down his emotions almost entirely. Hell, he still blames himself, even though he has no reason to. Bent drowns himself in pussy, liquor, and weed on the regular to quiet all the shit running through his brain.
I was beginning to think he'd never allow himself to get close to another girl again until Jazz came along. It's been pretty fucking obvious from day one that Bent's smitten with her. The only problem with that is I have no intention of giving her up. Bentley's like a brother to me. I'd do almost anything for him, but I'm not bending on this. I can’t.
My sister's lips quirk like she thinks this whole fucking thing is hilarious. "How did that go? I can't imagine you were pleased."
I stretch my neck from side to side, trying to alleviate the sudden tension. "How do you think it went? Bentley was his usual wiseass self, and Jazz was being obstinate as fuck."
Now Ainsley’s full-on laughing. “Dude, you’ve got your work cut out for you with that one.”
“Tell me about it.” I bite the tip of my thumb.
“God, I love her,” my sister says wistfully. “It’s nice having another girl in the fold again.”
A smile breaks free, despite my current irritation. Ainsley has trouble forming relationships with other women since she's not superficial and catty like most chicks we know. Jazz is her first friend since Carissa, and even though I was a dick about it at first, I'm glad she has someone to talk to about girly shit. She sure as hell will never get that from our dad's wives.
“I need you to do me a favor.”
Her expression sobers. “What?”
“I need you to find out what happened at the lake. Jazz won’t talk to me.”
Ainsley shakes her head. “Kingston, I’m not going to be your spy.”
“I’m not exactly asking you to,” I assure her.
“What exactly are you trying to find out?”
I shrug. “Jazz already put my biggest fear at ease, confirming she wasn’t raped, but nothing else.”
Ainsley remains silent.
My eyes widen. “Did she tell you what happened?”
She shakes her head. “Not entirely. I do know some details, though.”
“And you didn’t think to share them with me?” I throw my hands up. “What the hell, Ainsley?”
“I’m not going to betray her trust, Kingston. Don’t you think she’s been through enough? You don’t need all the details to know it was pretty freakin’ traumatic.”
“I do need the fucking details, Ains. How are we supposed to catch these guys if we have nothing to go off of? The police don’t have any leads.”
She eyes me curiously. “How do you know that? And how did you know there were two of them?”
I’ve shielded my sister from a lot of shit over the last two years, but I think it’s about time to clue her in on some of it. I’ll only tell her enough to keep her safe, though. Some things, she’s better off being in the dark about.
I take a deep breath. "I hired a private investigator to look into it. He's been working on something for me for a while now, but he's also trying to find the fuckers who attacked Jazz."
“Why have you had a P.I. working for you? What are you not telling me?”
“Something shady is going on between Dad and Charles Callahan. Possibly Madeline, too. They’re too damn good at covering their tracks, though. I couldn’t dig up shit on my own, so I hired the investigator to look into it.”
“Something like what? And what happened to make you suspect them of doing something so sketchy in the first place?”