Free Dare Me by Eric Devine Page A

fog in my head hasn’t lifted and this exertion isn’t helping, but Ricky had better have one hell of a good answer. I know when shit is worth worrying about, and this is monumentally concerning.
    Ricky clenches his jaw and turns to me. “I sent you that message last night. You could have told John before now.”
    A pit opens up in my stomach, and I feel John’s eyes on me. Well played. “Still, I only would have been telling him what you are now. Which is?”
    Ricky backs away from the table, hands up, like a politician. “Hey, of course. I understand. That’s what this list is all about. We decide together. I went ahead with Trevor because I thought it would be best for us .” He leans back in. “And you heard what McNeil said. Trevor is the only one that can keep us off his radar.”
    Ricky’s always been up to no good, so I don’t know if I should be surprised, but this is the first time Ricky’s sided with an enemy. I don’t like it. At all.
    “Bullshit. I’m calling bullshit on all of this. We all know that Trevor’s dead to us. So forget the damn list for a second and answer that question first.”
    “Which one?” Ricky offers his fuck-you smile.
    I stand. “You tell me what’s the deal with him or I walk. Because right now I feel like I’m being played. You got us to get this shit started and kept Trevor in the wing for some reason I don’t understand. So you explain or I’m out.”
    Ricky twitches. “So like you, Ben. You fold when shit gets tough.”
    “ I’m not the one who sold us out. The kid sitting next to you did.”
    John adjusts in his seat and is about to stand with me, but Ricky sticks out his hand. “John, please. Hold on. Give me a second.”
    I like how his voice quavers a bit. It’s good to see him a little nervous. Shocking that I caused it, but good. I sit because all that bravado has left me feeling weak.
    Ricky balls up his fists and rubs them against his temples. He speaks to the table. “I was wrong to spring this on you, but please believe me that I’m not pulling any shit. There’s no master plan with Trevor. Things collided and then all of a sudden made sense.”
    “Like with O. P., there was nothing you kept from us, right?” John’s voice is cold.
    Ricky looks up. “That’s fair.” He nods. “Shit, I get how this looks. Fuck, I don’t really know how to make you believe me, so walk if you want to. I’ll still give you your cut of the cash.”
    “That’s it? Nothing more?” I ask.
    Ricky looks at me, and he appears genuinely hurt. “Ben, I don’t have word skills like you. I don’t know what else to say. Trevor and I buried the hatchet. He put two and two together after he heard us talking about McNeil. He offered to help. You know, as a sign that he’s sorry.” He pauses. “The three of us have been tight since April. I figured we could all be that way again.”
    And I feel like an asshole. Ricky poured his heart out, and it all seemed so genuine and not at all a giant scheme. Shit. I look at him and then Trevor, and more than anything, I want to say, “I’m sorry,” but I can’t. I guess I still don’t trust something here. But I don’t know if that’s just me and my messed-up head, or if it’s intuition.
    “Trevor, what’s your plan for all of this?” I ask.
    He frowns. “It’s really all about anonymity and password protection. We put up the videos and encrypt each of them with a separate password. McNeil may find the videos, but he won’t be able to see them. He’d have to bother to find the passwords.”
    Trevor has a slight lisp that I normally find annoying, but now, because of what he’s talking about, it makes him sound intelligent. Weird.
    “We’ll dispense those passwords via Twitter, not Facebook. Stay off Facebook. Take down any messages you’ve already posted, and I’ll create a Twitter account through an external IP address. That way it can’t be traced to us.”
    John says, “Huh.”
    I clear my throat.