Page 170 of Double or Nothing

“What? What do you need to tell me?”

Whatever Bryce sees in my expression seems to make this harder. His throat moves. His hands press flat against the marble as though he needs the island to hold him up. And as for Jack, he stands back, examines. Stares at us as though he’s at the poker table.

“Christopher Otley is coming back to the UK in nine days.” Bryce says the words so fast they practically explode from his mouth.

I look down at my plate as his outburst kicks in.

Of course.

Nine days.

That makes sense.

I mean, I know Christopher is returning. I knew it was soon, but blah, blah, blah, somewhere in the distance. I didn’t know the date. Not for real.

Nine days.

I feel sick, the rich cheese of the toasties hardly helping.

I haven’t asked my parents any more about Christopher Otley’s return because asking would make it real. Because every time Mum’s name or Dad’s name lights up my phone, I turn it over and choose Jack’s laughter or Bryce’s smile instead.

“I know,” I say, daring to look at Bryce.

Silence.

Another age of silence as Bryce stares back at me.

“You knew? About Christopher coming back?”

“Yeah. Dad told me. Not the date, but about him coming home.”

“When?”

“A few days ago. A week, maybe. I don’t know.”

His face changes.

Shock first. Then hurt. Then something uncomfortably close to accusation. It’s weird, it’s sharp and I fucking hate it.

“Why on earth didn’t you tell me?!”

“Um, hello,” I hit back. “Why didn’t you tell me? Sooner? The minute you found out?”

The question lands heavy. Bryce flinches because he has no answer, and neither do I.

Jack looks between us.

Once.

Twice.

His attention becomes frighteningly focused.

“Who the fucking hell is Christopher Otley?”

Neither of us answers.

The lightness is gone from him now, though his posture remains loose. Carefree. Jack’s version of playboy battle armour.