: Part 11 – Chapter 43

A banging knock sounds on the front door of my parents’ house, so much so that I wonder if it’s the police. I don’t think my dad is doing shady business shit, but how the hell do I know? I’ve seen too many news stories of wealthy people getting raided by the FBI for money laundering and other illegal shit.

I run from the living room to the front, trying to see through the glass sidelights but coming up empty. When there’s another violent bang, I pull it open and hold my breath in hopes that I’m not going to be escorted into a police cruiser.

But all the air in my lungs comes out in a shocked whoosh when I see Avery standing in the doorway.

She’s sweaty and out of breath, and her long brown hair sticks to the top of her forehead like it does when she does hot yoga.

I swear, I’ve never seen her sweat for anything other than a workout, and suddenly, the worst comes to mind. What if something happened to Neil or Diane? Or Beau?

Did Seth fight him or something after I left?

“What’s going on?” I ask, panic in my voice now. “What are you doing here?”

Avery doesn’t answer before shoving both herself and me through the door and back into the house. “Holy shit, June, do you know how many places I had to look for you before I found you here?” She drops her Hermès Birkin down onto the Italian marble table in the foyer with a quiet thud before turning to face me. “How many hotels? Why on earth wouldn’t you be ordering room-service ice cream at the Ritz instead of holing up in this big, empty house your dad owns?”

Her rant only confuses me more. “Avery, is everything okay with your parents? Your…brother?”

Her eyebrows draw together. “Yes. They’re fine. A little heartbroken, but fine.”

I shake my head, silently trying to make sense of it all. “Then…what are you doing here?”

“I came to make sure you don’t make some stupid fucking mistake like martyring yourself.” She throws her hands in the air. “I mean, my God, why does the woman always have to be the martyr?”

“Wait…” I pause, blinking several times over her words. “You’re not mad at me anymore?”

She laughs. “You were in the room when my old-ass brother professed his love for you in front of the whole dang office and a bunch of money-hungry Hughes International execs, were you not?”

“Of course I was,” I whisper.

“Well, then you should know that anybody willing to make that big of a fool of themselves for my best friend, of all people, wins a golden ticket to see Wonka and to get out of jail with Avery Banks. It’s like a package deal.”

“Avery,” I say her name because I don’t know what else to say. Everything she’s telling me right now feels too good to be true. Just like being with Beau always did.

“June,” she says seriously and puts two firm hands on my shoulders so I’m forced to meet her stern gaze. “Don’t be an idiot. I was mad at you for all the right reasons, but you betrayed me for even better ones.” She shakes her head. “You and my brother. In love.” She smiles. “We’re probably going to be sisters one day, you know?”

I scoff. “Yeah. If Beau even still wants to deal with me. I ran out of the office and—”

“Shut up,” Avery cuts me off. “That’s why I’m here. We have to get you ready.”

“Ready for what?”

She hands me a folded note, a coy smile on her face.

In the center of it, in Beau’s chicken scratch handwriting, one thing is clear.

Meet me at midnight.