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“You weren’t mugged. I know that. And I don’t want to be the ‘I told you so’ girl, but… I told you not to get on that yacht. I…” Her hands twist on her lap. “I posted you were gone. I called Smith. I thought something bad happened. I thought I lost you.”
She looks at me, her face crumpling, tears sliding down her cheeks. “You’re not just my bestie, Dakota, you’re my sister. We don’t have the same blood, but… if something happened I’d never forgive myself. Ever.”
I hug her and I cry a little, too. I’m not a crier. Never have been, but in the past thirty hours, I’ve cried.
When Orion rescued me.
When he held me in the bath after making me come, after gifting me that orgasm.
Now.
“I’m okay, Harley. I promise. I’m a little worse for wear, but…” I breathe out, release her, and punch her lightly in the arm, wiping my eyes. She punches me back as she wipes hers.
“But?” She sniffs. “I didn’t mean to make it light by asking for the tea. It’s not gossip, I know. I just wanted to show you I’m so happy you’re home.”
“The tea,” I say, “is radioactive.”
“We need T-shirts with that!” Suddenly, she goes still. And her serious face appears again. “I know the online fame shit got away from us, but we can just drop it, and?—”
“Harley. You want to make the documentary.”
“I can still do it.” She shrugs. “I want to make art films, be the Adam Curtis of social commentary.”
“You are so weird.”
“He’s a genius?—”
“My point is,” I say, “that us shutting down right now isn’t gonna stop people.”
She draws a pattern on the duvet cover. “Until the next big thing.” She doesn’t look at me. “What did happen?”
Orion didn’t tell me what I could and couldn’t say; I’m not sure he’s that interested if I tell my friend. He clearly knows the connection with this family and Smith. And I hope he knows I’m smart enough not to splash anything around online.
Like I’d be believed.
Like I’d survive.
So I tell her a sanitized version, without me being touched. But the fury and fear on her face when I explain what these cretins do is so explosive, I hug her.
“Trent?”
“No, at least I don’t think so,” I say. “Brutus both times, and that girl who follows him around, Amelia?”
“She wanted to intern for Trent,” she suddenly says. “I don’t like any of them. The Collectors? What a bunch of pathetic people.” Harley jumps up as I sit on my hands because I keep forming them into fists and there’s no one to punch. “I hate them. All of them. Where can we get guns?”
“From Orion, but we don’t know how to use guns.”
“The hot scary man who looked at you like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to eat you or tuck you away somewhere and sing lullabies?”
I stare at her, and then I start to laugh. Just a little, but soon I’m falling all over the place, almost howling.
“What?”
“He looked like annoyed granite. And Orion? Singing? You crack me up, Harl.”
She storms up to me and sticks her face right in mine. “Oh. My. God. You had S.E.X. with him. Didn’t you? You did. I can see it.” She gets even closer, so close her nose butts mine and I give her a small push back. “You’re in love with him.”
“No, I’m not.
