Page 146 of The Pact
“I need to pee.” Rhyan wiggles in her seat.
Presley points to a road on the left, and I turn in.
“See, we’re here, then you can potty the minute we stop.” Presley touches her leg.
We pull up to the house, and I try to hide the shock I see on my face in the rearview mirror.
The Grants’ house in the Hamptons isn’t a house. It’s a country club pretending to be a family residence.
I stare out the window for a minute when I put the car in park. Presley gets out of the car and starts getting the kids out of the back seat.
The main house looks like something out of a magazine with white siding, wide porches, endless windows, and it’s perfectly angled toward the ocean, like the view was personally commissioned.
“Holy shit,” I say under my breath.
I get out of the car and start gathering the bags from the trunk.
Presley’s already inside with the kids, but she leaves the door open for me.
When I walk in with the first load, a man meets me at the door.
“I apologize, Mr. St. Clair. I was in the back of the house, and I didn’t hear you arrive.”
“Uh …” I look at him and wonder if I should know who he is. “It’s no problem. I can take care of it.” After I set the luggage down, I hold out my hand. “You can call me Wyatt.”
“Pleasure, sir. Jonathan,” he says, shaking my hand. “I’m the groundskeeper, but I also greet the Grants when they arrive to help with luggage.”
“I don’t mind bringing our bags in,” I say, starting to walk back out to the car.
He follows. “It’s my pleasure.”
I grab as much as I can and leave only a few lightweight items for him to carry.
When we get back inside the house, I’m not really sure where to put all the bags. In all the years we’ve been friends, I’ve never been here, so I have no clue where I’m going.
“You can leave it here, sir. We’ll take your bags to your rooms.”
Remy comes running toward me. “This is like a hotel.”
“I know. It’s very nice, so we need to make sure not to run in the house and break anything, okay?” I ruffle his hair.
He runs away from me toward the windows along the back of the house, and I follow him.
“Can I go outside?” he asks.
“Yeah, just stay where I can see you, okay?”
“Okay, I will.”
“And don’t go near the pool until an adult is out there.” I holler after him.
He waves a hand over his head.
I stand at the window, and I can see the pool, guesthouses, tennis courts, manicured pathways, and the ocean stretching behind it all.
Presley puts her hand on my back.
I look over at her. “Your parents are …”
