This is WAR (9 page)

“Lina, Lina, ballerina why so quiet?” Sloane plopped down on the couch and knocked the bottle of blue polish over, splattering it across Lina’s legs and the hem of her shift dress.

“Jesus!” The word was out of Lina’s mouth before she could bite it back. She shot up from the couch and started dabbing at the blue streaks of paint with a discarded beach towel. Lina couldn’t have given two shits about the dress. She had dozens more just like it in her closet, but the muddy blue mess at the end of her fingertips burst a delicate bubble of rage inside her. Her nails were always perfect. Well, they were since Willa died, anyway. Lina remembered when she and Willa stayed up all night trying to create the perfect ombre manicure. Willa had found some article online with step-by-step instructions. But they’d kept bumping their nails against the coffee table or accidentally smudging them when reaching into the big white bowl that sat between them for a handful of popcorn. Madge had made fun of them for walking around with salt smudged nails the next day, but they laughed and said it only added to the effect. If Willa were there she would have already convinced Lina that the nail polish splattered across her dress and over the tips of her fingers was a fashion statement.

But Willa was dead.

Tears sprang to Lina’s eyes.

“I’m sorry … I just … I need some air.” She backed out of the room and rushed down the stairway, hurtling into the parlor, not caring if anyone saw—then out the French doors to one of the Club’s massive patios. She bent over as though she’d be sick.

“Hey, are you okay?”

The voice came from a shadowed stoop in front of one of the side doors. Lina squinted through the darkness but could only make out the red tip of a cigarette and a long pair of legs, crossed at the ankles. But then the girl leaned forward, catching the light, and Lina recognized her wavy hair immediately.
Mari
. The waitress who was supposedly involved with Trip Gregory. Lina hadn’t seen her around the Club since the Fourth. She had heard she’d been fired … which was fine by her.

“I’m fine,” Lina said. “Leave me alone.” She turned to go back inside. It wasn’t the first time this girl had stumbled upon Lina, and there was no way she was up for a repeat performance of what had happened on the Gregorys’ yacht. Not tonight.

“Wait.” Mari exhaled a cloud of smoke and dropped the butt to the ground, grinding out the ash with her sandal. “We need to talk. About that night …”

Lina whirled around. “I have nothing to say to you. Go find Trip. Talk to him. You guys seem to have plenty to discuss.” Her stony mask was firmly back in place and she noted with satisfaction how each word cut into her target like tiny darts. Mari wasn’t worth her time.

Lina pressed her shoulders back as far as she could and turned back toward the entrance of the Club, forcing the bones of her back to jut out like wings as she walked. She was Lina Winthrop. She was tough. She was strong. She took what she wanted and didn’t give a shit about what anyone said or thought.

“You know where to find me when you’re ready to talk,” the girl called after her.

Despite herself, Lina turned one more time. But there was
no evidence of Mari, save for the cigarette butt that still smoldered on the concrete.

Find me
. The words echoed in her head.

Suddenly she had the perfect idea for their first battle. For the first time that night a small smile played across Lina’s face, and when she climbed the stairs back up to the attic, she felt a surge of adrenaline snake its way through her veins. Lina Winthrop was back in the driver’s seat. It would only be a matter of time before she was looking at the crumpled forms of James and Trip Gregory in her rearview mirror.

Chapter 10

Lina took the stairs two at a time and burst into the attic. “I have an idea,” she said, curling her fingers beneath the hem of her stained dress. She tried to catch Sloane’s eye, to offer a silent apology, but Sloane deliberately avoided her gaze. Lina knew she deserved it.

“Trip is sleeping with some whore of a waitress. We use her as bait.” Lina thought of Mari with her full lips and mocha skin. She was a sure thing.

Madge’s eyebrow flicked subtly and Lina knew she’d struck a chord. So she took the opportunity to shift into third and flood the gas. She strode toward one of the chairs in the middle of the room and sat down without saying another word.

“Um, which girl are you talking about exactly?” Rose asked. The words seemed to catch in her throat. She grabbed her bottled water and started chugging.

“Mari.” Lina scowled and continued. “Anyway, Trip dialed my number on the yacht. He might not be the hot
brother. Not to mention, everyone knows he’s completely unstable after he pretty much killed his own parents … but he knows what he’s doing.” She smiled wickedly for effect. She was pleased to see Rose’s mouth fall open, and her cheeks burst into flame. If there was one thing Lina had perfected it was the art of shock value. She only hoped she’d shock them enough to hide the fact that her being with Trip was a lie. “That waitress walked in and caused the biggest scene. Apparently she actually thought they were dating. Like a Gregory would ever date
staff
.” As soon as Lina uttered the word staff, Rose gasped and began choking. Lina seized the opportunity to see how her little story was going over with Madge and Sloane. Their wide-eyed stupor said it all. She had them exactly where she wanted them. She stared pointedly at Rose, waiting for her to stop hacking away.

“S-s-sorry. Wrong tube,” Rose finally managed.

“You don’t have to be here, you know. You’re free to leave at any time.”

Madge lifted her hand in the air to stop Lina from going any further. They’d already had this conversation and clearly Madge wasn’t in the mood to have it again. Lina rolled her eyes and continued. “As I was saying, we blackmail her. Force her to confess. Trip goes down and …”

“I don’t see how blackmailing some poor girl will get us anywhere,” Madge said. “And what about James? This isn’t good enough.”

“Pictures,” Rose whispered. Her voice was still hoarse.

Lina’s dark eyes sliced through Rose’s.

“No one can deny pictures.” Rose lowered her eyes as she said it. “What if we took compromising pictures? Trip with the waitress. James with … someone else. We show them to everyone. The Captain is forced to disinherit. We win.”

Lina didn’t like Rose’s use of the word “we.” In fact, Lina didn’t like any of this. Not Rose. Not Rose’s taking her idea and making it better. Not being forced out. She picked at the nail polish that had dried around the edges of her ring fingernail until she saw blood.

“The only thing James has been hitting lately is a bottle of whiskey,” Lina knew she was contradicting her own plan but she couldn’t stop herself.

Rose fidgeted. Her foot shook up and down, and Lina was reminded of courtroom dramas when convicted criminals were put on the stand. What was her deal? Lina considered calling her out, putting her on the spot again, but she knew it would only annoy Madge. But what exactly was Rose hiding? What did she know? Sometimes the way Rose looked at Lina made her wonder if she’d seen Lina on that boat. If she knew what she’d done. The thought of someone else—a stranger—knowing her secret made her skin crawl.

“I can get James?”

At first Lina wasn’t sure she’d heard her right, what Rose had just done did not even qualify as speaking. More like opening her mouth and releasing air.

“Speak up. I don’t even think
you
heard you.” Lina said even though she knew exactly what Rose had muttered. It was the words that really pissed her off, not the volume.

“I can get James.” Rose said each word slowly, lifting her eyes at the end, punctuating her statement.

“How?” Madge asked. Sloane held a page of the yearbook in midair waiting patiently for Rose’s response. Lina stood by the door, hating herself for waiting, too.

“He texts me. We’re friends. I mean … we
were
friends.”

That was it. Lina pounced.

“So, what you’re saying is that you’re friends with the guy
who killed our best friend. Is that right?” She raked her blue fingers through her hair and shook her head. “You just show up in here claiming to want to help take down a family you know nothing about! To get revenge for a girl who didn’t even know you
existed.”
Lina turned toward Madge and Sloane. “Am I the only one who wants to know what she’s
really
doing here?”

“Lina!” Sloane shouted, slamming the yearbook shut. “We all know you miss her. We all do. But you don’t have to be such a bitch.”

Lina had never heard Sloane curse, let alone at her. And the worst part was that Sloane was right. Lina couldn’t even think of anything clever to say. She’d failed in every way possible.

“Enough.” Madge stood. Her eyes flickered orange in the candlelight, tiger-like. “None of this is going to work if we can’t get along. I’m not asking anyone to be friends. Willa held us together. But she’s gone, and this only works if we’re a team.”

Madge was right. None of this would ever have happened if Willa were alive. Lina brushed her fingers over her first tattoo, a huge snake that wound its way up her left arm. Madge had been horrified when she’d seen it for the first time, had dubbed Lina “white trash.” Sloane had stared at her like she had no idea who she was. But Willa had walked right over to her and ran her fingers over the ink.

“
Does it hurt?
” she’d asked. Looking back, Lina wondered if she’d been asking about the tattoo at all. Willa hadn’t waited for an answer; instead she squeezed Lina’s hand lightly and announced that if Lina was officially white trash they might as well celebrate with Cheetos and beef jerky. Everyone had laughed, and Madge apologized over a Slim Jim for being such a bitch, and everything had righted itself.

But tonight there was no Willa to diffuse the tension. Tonight there would be no impromptu gas station run. Tonight there was only Lina and her regrets.

“You’re right, Sloane,” Lina murmured. “I miss her.” She stopped short of apologizing to Rose. She wasn’t sorry for questioning the girl, and she still couldn’t imagine how her friends were able to trust a virtual stranger. Maybe trust was less complicated when you didn’t have anything to hide. “I’ll try harder,” she added. The words sounded gravelly as she pushed them past the burning in her throat.

Madge clapped her hands together. “Excellent. Lina, you take the waitress and Trip. Rose, you do whatever it takes with James. Get pictures. The dirtier the better. We’ll project them the night of the gala. Don’t let me down.”

Meeting adjourned.

Chapter 11

Lina lingered around the outskirts of the Club the next day, hoping to fly under the radar. She wore her favorite pair of oversized sunglasses in a pathetic attempt to disguise herself. If anything, the huge shades made her closely cropped, white-blonde hair stand out that much more. At least the rest of her outfit was ordinary, boring, and practical. She wore the only pair of shorts she owned and an army green ribbed tank top. But she drew the line at her lips and nails. In Lina’s experience, it was impossible not to be in control when wearing Big Apple Red nail polish and Venetian Red lipstick.

Dew-drenched grass tickled Lina’s toes as she wove her way along the path through the woods—laser-focused on making it to the Club’s basketball courts before Trip Gregory’s weekly game began.

When she found a large tree with a perfect hidden view, she surveyed the branches, tucked her phone into her bra band and began climbing. Her bright red nails looked shiny and out of place against the peeling bark of the tree, her
muscles taut as she climbed. Only when Lina settled into the gentle curve of a thick branch did she let the tension ease slowly from between her clenched shoulders. The court was still empty, the green asphalt pristine.

She was here. She was ready. She was in control.

Lina fished out her phone and scrolled through the texts. Rose was driving her crazy with her plan for James Gregory. Apparently she’d figured out a way to get him out of his pants, but she needed Lina to play photographer. She still couldn’t get past the fact that Rose and James were a thing. There was no doubt in Lina’s mind that their relationship somehow played into Rose’s real agenda for joining the War. Her only hope was that seeing Rose and James interact tonight would finally give Lina the proof she needed to get rid of Rose McCaan for good. An image of Willa wrapping a scarf around Rose’s waist the night of the party surfaced in Lina’s mind, unbidden. Willa had been prone to picking up strays. Jessa Phillips the summer of third grade, Nora Williams in fifth, but it wasn’t until the summer of seventh that she’d found Carolina Winthrop.