Brazen Mistakes (Brazen Boys #3)

57. Clara

Chapter 57

Clara

I hear Summer’s car pull up long before she rings the bell, but I don’t open the door.

Nope.

I’m digging through my newly washed but not yet folded clothes, trying to figure out what you’re supposed to wear to a spa day with an actual fashionista ice queen. All I need is an Anna dress and I can be her plucky little sister.

When Trips brings her back, it’s almost anticlimactic to find that she’s wearing jeans and a zip-up sweatshirt. There’s even a hint of a smile on her face. “Hey,” she says, stopping at the threshold, taking in my thrifted and eclectic decor, Trips glowering behind her.

“Come in so I can change,” I say, surprised by my directness. What is it about getting mostly naked with someone that lets you skip pleasantries ?

Summer doesn’t hesitate to turn and close the door in Trips’ face, turning back with a sparkle in her eyes, and for the first time, I wonder if maybe we could be friends.

It’s almost like she’s spent so long pretending to be an ice princess that she’s forgotten how to play. And if that isn’t a warning about my path, well, I must be stuck staring in the wrong direction.

Shaking it off, I point at my pile of clothes. “Does it matter what I wear?”

She runs a finger along the velvet of one of my pink chairs. “No, not where I’m taking you. But if you ever end up getting ready for a Westerhouse event on the Westside, call me. We wouldn’t want anyone to gossip about how unkempt you were.”

“Got it. I can just put on whatever?”

“Yup. Just make sure it doesn’t go over your head.”

“Now that I can do.”

Summer’s lips twist a little higher, and she perches on the chair, crossing one leg over the other like she’s in a silk gown instead of denim. Ignoring her, I change into a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved button-up, piling my hair into a knot on top of my head and calling it good. “Do I pass inspection?” I ask.

With the barest nod, she gets up, leading me to her car.

This one is a yellow convertible, which is wholly impractical, and I can’t help but admire her dedication to driving whatever the hell she wants.

Another hint that Summer is more than what she presents to the world. And she’s making me curious about her, which I kind of hate .

Almost, but not actually. I used to have entire teams of female friends. Bryce fucked that up. I’m not letting him win.

RJ chases us out of the house, pulling me aside. “Keep your eyes open, sugar. Your phone should alert you, but Bryce could watch from a distance.”

“I’ll stick with my buddy.”

“No offense, but Summer isn’t the bodyguard I’d hope for.”

She leans against the hood of her car, legs crossed at the ankles. “I’m a hell of a lot scrappier than I look. Don’t worry about your girl. But you might want to train her to keep herself safe.”

I feel my cheeks heat, and RJ rests his palm against one of them. “We’re working on it. Just know that there’s one sick fuck out there hoping to ruin her life. All our lives.”

“You’re more of a heartbreaker than you let on, Clara.”

Shaking my head, I squeeze RJ’s hand, then motion Summer to take the driver’s seat. Once we’re both in, I respond. “Heartbreaker, life ruiner, justice seeker, take your pick.”

“That bad, huh?”

“He was a manipulative, abusive pedophile. I only wish I’d ruined him sooner.”

“But he’s out and about?”

The minute she guns the engine, I grip the seat belt, something riding the line between fear and excitement strumming through me. “He made a deal with the cops to help them find bigger fish in the pedophile pond. And he’s back to stalking. It’s like my life is a series of circles, and even though I keep making wider loops, I end up stuck with him no matter what I do.”

“Stalking doesn’t send him to jail? ”

“Not if he makes sure there’s no evidence that it’s him.”

“That sucks.”

“Sure does.”

We drive for a bit, the turns all taken at speed, and I’m reminded of driving with my dad.

Grief surges, but I shove it back down. I will not cry in front of the ice queen I’m trying to turn into my new friend.

Summer saves me. “We’re going to Stillwater. I have this woman who’s amazing at hair, and their makeup artist and massage therapists are excellent as well.”

The wad of cash Trips gave me sits heavy in my pocket.

“Sounds good to me. I’ve never had my hair done or anything, so you’ll have to be my expert in this, too.”

“What, a college girl like you didn’t get all dolled up for prom?”

I shake my head. “No, nothing like that. We just did each other’s hair and went as a pack of girls.”

She glances at me while exiting at speed, before switching her gaze back to the road. “That’s not what I would have pegged you for.”

“What about you? Big prom date in your past?”

“I never even made it to senior year, so no.”

Time to change the topic. “How’d you end up walking dogs?”

She shoots me another glance, her eyes tracing over me. “Are you digging?”

“Right now? No. Just trying to have a conversation.”

Her hands tense around the wheel, the speed ratcheting up higher. Then she loosens back up. “Okay. Sorry. I haven’t talked to someone without either flirting or holding a leash for a long-ass time. Sorry if I’m being weird.”

I really should find her dating profile. Maybe there are more answers there. “All good. I’ve only lost friends for the last few years, so I’m probably a little rusty myself.”

We both sit, awkward as she zooms past cars on either shoulder, the purr of the engine both soothing and electrifying.

“You haven’t said anything about my driving.”

“What’s there to say? You seem competent, if a little foolhardy. I have faith you won’t kill us.”

She laughs, brittle and dusty. “I guess that’s praise.”

“I guess so too.”

She swerves around another few cars, a honk or two barely audible behind us. “Are you into cars?”

Tucking one leg under me, I watch us fly past a cop. “Police,” I call out, Summer cutting across traffic to an exit, then performing a series of turns that have us deep in a neighborhood before I’ve even really had a chance to think about it. “And no, but I’m a good driver. Not as good as you, but Jansen says I’ve got some skills.”

“And you have a good eye. Let’s sit for a few, then go overland.”

“I take it you like cars?”

She drops into park, checking all her mirrors before relaxing into her seat, reminding me of Jansen. Which makes me wonder if his cousin taught both of them. “I like things that are predictable, hold value, and that I can break but put back together. Nice cars fit all three. ”

I mull on that. “I don’t think I’ve ever thought about cars like that.”

“I mean, they’re also hot as hell, but that’s a separate measure.”

Laughing, I glance around the car, happy to still see no lights chasing us. “I don’t think I’m a burgeoning car girl, but a motorcycle? I might get behind buying one of those.”

“Who’s given you the bug?”

“RJ has one. It’s, well, if cars are hot, then motorcycles are sex on wheels.”

Summer’s laugh this time sounds more natural, less like a costume forgotten in someone’s attic. “I think you’ll do alright in this world, Clara. I think you’ll be just fine.”

This is the most I’ve ever been poked and prodded in one day before. At least most of it is exceptionally pleasant and Zen. I have a strange inkling that Jansen would probably love a spa day. Walker, too. I’m not sure I’d be able to talk RJ or Trips into it, though.

By the time I’m done, the woman in the mirror is exactly who they expect at the party tonight. Not Clara, the poor, anxious, occasionally angry, baby criminal and college student, but Clara, debutante and woman of means. I’m both impressed and horrified by the change.

Summer must see the mounting panic on my face because she thanks the makeup artist—my last stop on the pamper train—pulls the cash from my pocket, hands it over, then shoves me into her car. “You okay, girl?”

I nod, dazed. “How did she do that?”

“They were told to make you look like a girl-next-door movie starlet. I’d say they achieved the right vibes.”

Her face is doll-like, her eyes huge and her waist-length hair swept into a loosely twisted wreath around her head. “You’re beautiful,” I say, my mind still dazed by the girl I’ve been turned into.

She smiles, a hint of the devil warring with her angelic vibes. “I’d better be.”

We take off, a few flurries brushing against the windshield. “How worried should I be about this party?” I ask, suddenly unprepared for what’s coming. Trips shared enough for me to know this is dangerous. And I know enough to understand how woefully unprepared I am. I’m scared shitless just seeing my reflection. Being surrounded by people who have net worths that run in the multitude of millions? I’m going to mess up and look like the poor girl I am.

“You have Trips to guide you. You’ll be fine.” There’s a pause, and I swear she mutters “probably” under her breath, but she doesn’t clarify.

“How did you learn to fit in?” I ask, not sure if I’m supposed to allude to the fact that nothing about her adds up.

“I started swimming in smaller ponds and have only recently worked my way up to these dangerous waters. It’s tough, picking up the details, the mannerisms, the way a slight tilt to the right means something different from a bigger tilt to the left.”

“Oh my God. I was supposed to learn head tilts? ”

She shakes her head, her lips twisting into an almost smile. “You’ll be fine. Just act like you own the room, and with Trips by your side, everyone will believe you do.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“It is. People are mostly sheep, no matter how much money they make. They don’t want to make waves; they don’t want to be more than a little different from their friends. You’re going to make waves no matter what you do. So just look the part and pretend like you belong there. A guest of a Westerhouse will have a lot of leeway. So don’t worry. Just don’t lose Trips. There will be sharks there, and I won’t be able to step in.”

“Why not?”

“My date doesn’t rank high enough. I’d be surprised if we did more than nod at each other from across the room.”

The exits zip by as I think about it. “How am I supposed to act both confident enough for strangers to not judge me while also be uninteresting enough for Trips’ dad to leave me alone?”

Summer taps her fingers against the wheel, the exit for the house approaching faster than I thought possible. “Honestly, I don’t know. I’ve only ever had to be one thing at a time.”

“What are you going to be tonight?”

“Charming with a side of adorable.” She flashes me a smile that could melt the iciest of hearts, and I know there’s so much more to Summer than she’s telling me.

A strange thought bubbles up in me, likely brought on by my pending panic.

“What?” Summer asks, as I chortle a weird gasp of laughter while she flies up the exit .

“It’s just, it’s like we’re talking about Halloween costumes, only it’s real life,” I sputter.

Summer stares at me for a second before slipping around the block and slamming to a stop in front of the house. “You know, you’re not far off. When in doubt, think of getting laid and you’ll end up with the right amount of superiority on your face to make it through.”

My sputter turns into hysterical laughter, and the hint of a smile she gives me melting the last of the ice princess from her demeanor.

“You can’t be serious?”

“Try it and see what happens. You might be surprised how similar those two looks can be.”

I roll my eyes, my fingers slipping into the handle. “Right. I’m sure thinking about sex will gain me peak respect from the old money crowd.”

“Works for me.”

Shaking my head, I pop the door open, icy air flooding in. “Thanks, Summer. This was almost fun. We should try again when I don’t have the impending doom of a Westerhouse party hanging over my head.”

“I’d like that.”

“Then let’s make it happen. Numbers?”

We exchange numbers, then she flies from the street. Only when I turn to the house, Officer Reed stands between me and safety. He peels his eyes away from Summer’s swiftly vanishing car and does a double take, obviously not expecting me to look like a debutante. ”Heading out?” he asks, taking in my jeans under my jacket.

“Eventually. I thought I was supposed to contact you. ”

“I was worried you’d forget.”

“I haven’t.” Swallowing, I trust in the bravery I’ve found. “I want the deal. How do you want the info?”

“You could tell me.”

“I’d rather give it to you. As I find it. Do you still use those thumb drive things?”

The look he gives me says that while we’re not too far apart in age, I just made him feel ancient. “Yes. I can take information on a thumb drive.”

“Can you wait out here for like, ten minutes?”

He nods to his car a few houses down. “I’ll wait there.”

“Okay. Sure.”

“Wait,” he calls. “Has there been anything else from Bryce?”

My hands fold into fists. “Of course. He’s taking his threats wide. RJ ended up in jail from some suspiciously loose lug nuts.”

“You sure it was him?”

“He sent pictures.”

Reed squeezes his eyes closed. “Bring those down too, then.”

I rush into the house, bounding up the stairs a few at a time to RJ’s room. He opens the door not long after I knock, his eyes growing wide. “Clara, you look…” He stops, seeming to not know what to say.

“Later. The cop’s out front. Can you give him some stuff on the guys you’ve tracked down in the metro area? You have thumb drives, right?”

RJ places his hand on my cheek, so gently that I know he’s trying to not smear my makeup. If he knew the amount of finishing powder that was on my face right now, he wouldn’t be using such caution.

With a gulp, he nods, turning back into his room and rummaging around in his dresser until he pulls out a thumb drive. Then he sits down at his computer, opening and closing windows so fast that it’s obvious that keeping tabs on these monsters has become muscle memory for him.

Poor guy.

After what feels like forever, but is probably less than five minutes, RJ looks up. “These are the four with the strongest, easiest cases to build in the area. He should have everything he needs, although he’ll still have to find the evidence again himself to make it stick. Are you sure you want to be the face of this, Clara?”

The reflection off the screens makes it hard to parse his expression. “Are you sure we should hand this off to the cops? Are you safe?”

He swallows. “Nothing about this is safe. But we can’t do more than I already have. And these kids need their abusers off the streets.”

“Maybe these predators will stay behind bars for longer than a handful of weeks,” I mutter, and RJ stands, pulling me into his arms.

“The cop’s just one option. If it doesn’t work, then we’ll find another way.”

I nod, taking the drive from him.

But when I go to leave, he follows. I look back at him, and he shrugs. “I’m not letting you out of the house without an escort.”

“Even when I’m going to talk to a cop? ”

“Especially if you’re going to talk to a cop.”

I bump up against him, loving that I get to touch him without concern that he doesn’t want it. He does.

After I retrieve Bryce’s last gift, we head out. And when he puts his arm around my shoulder, I feel safe and happy in a way I’ve needed. Comfortable as we walk side by side through the slowly drifting snow to the cop’s car.

Officer Reed rolls down his window, and I pass the thumb drive and photos through.

“What am I looking at here?” he asks, holding up the drive.

“Enough to put four creeps behind bars.”

He shakes his head, looking from me to RJ. “We’ll see about that.”

“If you think you can help, let me know. Otherwise, I’ll take what I find elsewhere.” The threat seems foolhardy as soon as it comes out of my mouth, but I can’t pull it back no matter how much I wish I could, the cop’s eyes narrowing as he stares at me from inside his little sedan.

“We’ll be in touch.”

He pulls away, leaving RJ and me on the curb. I lean into him, and his arms wrap around me, our coats keeping me from feeling the heat of him against my back. “Did we do the right thing?” I ask.

“Only time will tell.”

“That’s not what I wanted to hear, RJ.”

“But it’s what needs to be said.”

I take his hand, the path back to the house both longer and shorter than I wish it were. Frustration eats at my words as I face his honesty. “You’re probably right. ”

The press of his hand in mine soothes some of my flurry of emotions.

“You need to finish getting ready for the party. You look like a movie star, and you’re just in your snow jacket. I can’t wait to see you in that dress.”

“I kind of wish I looked like me.”

“It’s just for tonight.”

“And tomorrow.”

“And tomorrow. Play a little game, pretend, and then come back to us, just the way you are.”

I lean into him as he unlocks the house. “That’s a promise I can keep. This is just a role. Just for a little bit. And then, I’ll be back. Me. Only me.”