Rumors Lie

Chapter Four

When I pulled into my driveway, I was surprised to see Evan's car there. Normally he wouldn't roll in until after eleven at the earliest. I grin ridiculously and hustle into the house.

I dropped my bag off into the kitchen and ruffle the fur on the top of Dux's head. I call for Evan and hear a muffled reply from upstairs. Taking the curved staircase two at a time and pop into his room, only to see him packing a bag. He stops when he sees my frown.

"Hey, Riles." He gives an guilty smile. The kind of smile he used to give when he needed me to cover for him when he snuck out to some college kegger. "I know I haven't been around a lot lately, but I'm gonna fix it with this business trip."

I sigh and lean against the doorframe. "Where are you going?"

"New York?" He says it hesitantly.

I pout. "Can I come with you? I won't be in the way! I just miss my boys!"

"I know, I know! But it's going to be for a week and I don't want to pull you from your studies for that long."

"A week isn't that long!" I want to stomp my foot. How could he go to New York and leave me here, alone? "Ev, I-" I hesitate, "I don't want to be alone."

He looks at me sadly and moves to give me a hug. "You won't be alone, you'll have Dux, and your friends at school can come over whenever."

I sigh. "Like I have any. But, fine. Go. Leave your helpless little sister here, all alone." He snorts unattractively and gives me a look.

"Helpless? Oh Riley, do you think I'm dense enough not to know about your oh so secretive fighting abilities?"

I shake my head and wave him away, leaving him to his packing. I wander to my room and invade my closet. When I was in New York, Devin forced me into purchasing an entire wardrobe of 'bad girl' clothes so he could be seen with me in public. His words, not mine. Thus, my wardrobe was divided into three, my normal, casual clothes, my badassery clothes, and my party clothes. I sorted through them, checking sizes and making mental outfits I could wear to knock the wind out of Caitlyn's sails.

I then salvaged all the make-up and piercings that I had acquired through my times with them. Yes, piercings. Frequently, when my boys and I had a good night and had way too much fun, aka, when we got completely smashed, we always woke up with an assortment of new piercings and/or tattoos. In just a year and a half of partying, I had acquired three new lobe piercings, two cartilage piercings, a belly button ring, and three tattoos. Luckily, I'm the most unscathed. One time, Devin woke up with the outline for a huge rib tattoo, luckily, it was one he had been thinking about for a while. Marcus wasn't so lucky and ended up with an ass tat that night.

I finger my top cartilage piercing, a habit I picked up about a week after I got it, and sorted through my collection. I replace my cartilage rings with spikier, more intimidating ones and my three lobe get switched too. I add a small middle-finger shaped one, a claw, and a black stud. I return to my closet and sort through the dark clothing. I grab a pair of heavily ripped, dark wash skinny jeans and a Nirvana muscle tee. I snatch the studded boots from the floor and a leather jacket to top it off.

I laid the clothes on the top of the dresser and raced down the stairs to the kitchen. I might as well get my homework done a few weeks in advance, then I won't have to worry about it. I pause outside Evan's door before peaking in. He's perched on the side of the bed, holding a family photo from when we were younger.