“You knew, didn’t you?”
“About what?” I ask, needing a little more information than that.
“About Jonas. Maria.”
“Uh…” I hesitate, guilt swamping me for keeping something like that from him. Theo, Alex, and I don’t have secrets—or at least, we never used to. But now with Stella, things are different. “It wasn’t my story to tell, man,” I say, rubbing the back of my neck.
“I know, I get that. But shit. How didn’t we fucking know?” he asks, pain evident in his tone, his face pulled tight as he thinks about what Toby’s been through alone.
“Because he didn’t want us to. The same way only you guys know the truth about my mum.”
“Fuck. I hate this. I knew Jonas was a prick, but fuck…”
“I know. Toby needs to find a way to put an end to that fuck. I have no idea what he’s got over him, but it can’t be enough to keep him fucking breathing.”
“Agreed.”
Theo chews on his bottom lip, deep in thought.
“Spit it out,” I demand.
“Do you think Jonas has something to do with all this shit with Stella?”
“No,” I say confidently. “If he wanted her dead, if he wanted to punish Galen, then he just… would. This isn’t his style.”
“Torture isn’t his style? Did you not listen to the kind of control he has over Toby and Maria? I think this is exactly his style.”
“I know, but… this is different. I just… no.”
Theo studies me as I consider this line of thought once more.
“Okay,” Theo finally concedes. “But who is it?”
“Million fucking dollar question,” I mutter as another howl of laughter comes from the living room.
“This is fucking weird, man. There are chicks hanging out in my house.”
“You love it,” I say, waving him off.
“Do I?” His brow quirks as he stares at me.
“Calli is cool. It’s nice to see her actually leave her bedroom for once. And Emmie seems—”
“Like a royal pain in the ass,” he finishes for me.
“Seriously, what is your deal with her? You usually go for that type.”
“I do not,” he argues.
“Sure,” I breathe, sliding off the bed and heading toward the bathroom, pissed off with the sling holding my arms that Stella insists I keep wearing. “Hot emo girls are totally your thing.” I close the door behind me before he can come up with a response, although something suspiciously hard does collide with the wood a few seconds later.
Touchy fucker. He’s totally imagining banging her six ways from Sunday.
I expect to find my room empty when I emerge, so he startles me a little when I discover he’s standing at my window.
“What is it? Is there something out there?” I ask, a little panicked.
I’ve been trying to play it off a little for Stella’s sake. I know Sunday night is still haunting her—I see it every time I look into her eyes—but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little on edge, waiting to see what comes next from this motherfucker.