Page 81 of Vicious Desire (Fallen Royals 4)
The chain-link fence surrounding the yard is broken, sagging in some parts. The gate is open.
I reach for my door handle, but Dad grabs my arm.
“You do not leave this car,” he orders.
“Isn’t this where you need the most backup?” I ask.
He raises his eyebrows, and I sink back. Now I see the prosecutor in him. He’s interrogated many people—this late-night call isn’t really fazing him.
And I think there’s a gun tucked against the small of his back.
“Lock the doors,” he adds.
I do, hitting the lock button as soon as he’s out. Dad is the definition of calm, cool, and collected. On the outside, at least.
He marches right up to the door and knocks. After thirty seconds, he tries the doorknob.
It swings open, and he goes in.
I don’t think I breathe the entire time he’s in the house.
Ten minutes later, he comes out with Noah’s arm slung over his shoulders. My brother can barely walk, and Dad supports most of his weight. They stumble off the porch and toward us.
I break his order and unlock the doors, scrambling to get the backseat door open.
Noah’s gaze is unfocused, but he seems to lock on to me for a split second. His attention slides away.
Dad maneuvers Noah into the backseat, sort of dropping him, and then shoves his feet in and slams the door.
“Riley, in.”
I obey.
Now’s not really the time to… not.
Once I’m buckled in, I crane around and scan my brother. He’s half lying across the seat, his eyelids fluttering.
“Noah?” I ask.
I stretch my arm back and prod what I can reach.
“What happened?”
“He’s high.” Dad hits the steering wheel.
I flinch.
“I shouldn’t have let it come to this.”
I can’t stop staring at my brother. He seems…
“What did you take, Noah?” I ask.
My older brother giggles. It comes out hoarsely at first, but his shoulders move with the effort. He brings his hand up and traces an invisible pattern on the seat in front of his face, and the giggles turn into sighs.
Like crashing waves, he keeps sighing.
“Stop,” I say. “What did you take?”