Keep Your Friends Close

Keep Your Friends Close Niki Keith Copyright Copyright © 2023 by Niki Keith All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. 1 Eddie Now I silently vowed that I wouldn’t knock out Riley’s teeth. “Here we are,” Diego said, rolling his shitty Charger to a stop. Wes, my twin brother, glanced at me from the passenger seat, catching my grim expression. “Oh, lighten up, bro. It’s only two days,” he said, pushing the door open. I hurried after him. “So, what? Did we really have to invite him?” I eyed Riley leaning on his outdated station wagon. Just seeing his handsome features and killer smile made me cringe. Diego came over and back-slapped me in the chest—hard. “We’re here to patch things up. Now quit bitching and get your stuff.” I didn’t even wince. My eyes locked on his, my knuckles itching to pound his boyish face. I could do without his bullshit that weekend, too. He snickered at me and heaved a glob of spit on the ground. Disgusting ass pig. “You heard the man,” Wes said, bumping shoulders with me. It was so typical of him to take Diego’s side. Sometimes you’d think they were brothers. Fuck it. The sooner I got it over with, the sooner I’d be away from them. I grabbed my backpack and tossed Wes his. A couple of cases of beer were beside Diego’s duffel bag. Just what we needed to make it the official weekend from hell. My eyes flicked to the abandoned cabin Wes, and I discovered when we were thirteen. It was supposed to be our secret—until his loyalty to Diego became more important. Brooklyn’s BMW purred up the rocky trail behind Riley, vibrating with muffled pop music. My heart skipped a beat. She would definitely make the weekend worthwhile. I withheld my grin. If one guy made a wisecrack, I would indeed scratch my knuckle itch. Brooklyn’s best friend, April, jumped from the passenger seat in sunglasses, denim short shorts revealing her toned dark-brown legs, and a tube top that barely covered her boobs. The guys’ necks craned as they took in an eyeful. But not me. I only had eyes for Brooklyn, who remained behind the wheel hesitantly. She, too, didn’t want to be around Riley. We didn’t want to have a party, especially not after what we did. Our lives would be over if anyone ever found out. My eyes met Brooklyn’s. She gave me a small wave; I returned with a curt nod. Perhaps we could sneak off and camp away from the others. That was the overall idea—to use the cabin to store our personal things and camp outdoors because it was so hot. It wasn’t as if the place had much to offer, anyway. It didn’t even have electricity, but you could hardly tell with the LED lights and lanterns we had everywhere. For Wes and me, having the cabin meant having our own private sanctuary where we could escape from Hank. God knew our dad wasn’t exactly Father-of-the-year. Lately, we used the cabin for anything but a haven. “Good—all of us besties are here,” April said, over-enthusiastically. Riley knew damn well he no longer had that title with me. Any of us. He’d burned us, and I refused to pretend it hadn’t happened. April held up two bottles of vodka. “What do you say we get this party started?” Wes dodged forward and reached for a bottle. “Now, I’m all for that. Shot party!” “Uh-uh. You can get the food out of the back.” She snatched the bottle closer to her chest, out of his reach. Wes scoffed and started for the cabin. “Like hell I will,” he muttered. Riley, who’d still been leaning against the station wagon, laughed. “Can we just get this thing going already? I’ll help you with your stuff since I’m the only gentleman present.” He flashed a toothy grin. I clenched a fist. Let Riley be, Eddie. April batted her thick, fake lashes at him as if he had angel wings sprouting from his back. “Aww, thank you, Riley.” I’d had enough. Clutching my bag, I followed Wes up to the lopsided porch. The log cabin was slate gray. It had a family room, a half bathroom with working water (I had no clue how), and a bedroom upstairs the size of an attic, which Brooklyn and I claimed since we were the only serious couple in the group. Wes and April were on-and-off lovers. The hot and musty living room was complete with a loveseat, coffee table, and oriental rug, courtesy of Brooklyn. A fireplace burned like hell in the winter when appropriately lit. The back wall had built-in shelves with a set of cast iron skillets left by the previous owner. We kept them, unsure if we’d ever actually cook on them someday. Sandwiches and roasted marshmallows were on the menu for today. “Why don’t we do this?” I heard Diego say, unable to not be a control freak for five minutes. “Let’s work in groups. Wes, Riley, and I can set up camp. April and Eddie can gather what we need to start the fire. And Brooklyn can prep the food. There—we're all doing our parts.” “Me and April?” I spun around and shot Diego a glare. “I’m pretty sure we’d have to come and search for you if you’re with Brooklyn,” Diego said, rolling his eyes. “Besides, it’s only a few hours until sundown. We’ve already wasted enough time.” Brooklyn appeared, handing out juices. “I’m fine with prep duty.” She shrugged, offering me a small smile. “Oh, come on, already,” April said, shoving the vodka into Brooklyn’s hand. “Don’t worry. I’ll bring your boyfriend back in one piece.” “Creepy, ain’t it?” April asked, almost an hour later. “What?” I huffed, swatting at a low branch in front of me. The muggy air left