We Make Mayhem [boyxboy]

Chapter Thirty-Three

As Noah drove me up to his house, I felt like a different person from the Riley I was earlier in the week. On Monday, I had felt too guilty to walk into Decker Lord's house as a guest with my phone recording everything. Now, I couldn't wait. I had stayed up late, unable to sleep because I kept reexamining every memory I had of Dad and Chloe, combing through for any looks of longing I had misinterpreted at the time, driving myself crazy. Before long, I couldn't tell what was real and what was just paranoia.

I hated the man who made me feel that way.

Noah pulled the Edison into the guest house garage, lead me up to his room, and had my pants around my ankles as soon as the door was closed. Afterward, when we were cleaning up for dinner in his ensuite bathroom, I was happy he had. I felt loose, relaxed, level-headed before I walked into Decker Lord's home a spy.

I was ready. Before we went up to the family home, I opened the WIA's app and hit "record."

And I didn't feel bad about it.   

Mrs. Lord was in the kitchen, with the twins helping her make dinner.

"Hello, boys." She kissed Noah's cheek, and then mine, with no hesitation whatsoever. "Welcome, welcome! Noah, can you grab the baby? He's fussing."

Noah lifted his little brother out of his high chair and cuddled him. Ben cooed and grabbed Noah's nose, and I melted a little inside.

"How are you, Riley?" Mrs. Lord asked. "How's school going?"

I gave her the summary I was giving every adult who asked lately: school was fine, A/V club was great, I couldn't wait to graduate and take on the world. We talked about that for a while, until Decker walked in.

Daisy dropped the knife she was using to cut onions and ran into his arms. Ella joined him, and Ben reached in Decker's direction. Noah walked him closer, and Decker gathered up all his kids in his arms. He didn't seem to care about wrinkling his expensive suit.

"Riley!" he said once he'd snuggled them all and tousled Noah's hair. "How are you?"

"Good, good," I said.

"Dinner will be ready in about thirty minutes, Papa Bear," Mrs. Lord said. "Anything you want to do first, better do it right quick."

"Perfect," Decker said. "Riley, come—I want to show you my study."

I looked at Noah, who just raised his eyebrows.

I swallowed. "Sure."

Decker lead me down a maze of hallways, talking about all the art that we passed along the way.

"That's a Turton, from 1935," he said as we passed a Cubist painting. "And that's a da Vinci sketch. I beat Bill Gates in an auction for it."

The way he said all that wasn't really bragging—he was more like a kid showing me his favorite toys. He pointed out the stairway banisters carved by an Italian artisan, the crown moulding which came from a country house in France, and told me about the A.I. system he designed to regulate everything from security to heating to the window coverings. Its name was Chauncey.

"It also periodically interjects puns into the conversation," he said. "We do have fun, don't we, Chauncey?"

"You designed me so we would," a mellow male voice said, filling the room.

"Do all your A.I. systems have their own personalities?" I asked. "Like, is Chauncey different from Simone?"

"Ah, that's right—you've met Simone. You've ridden in Noah's car." He smiled. "Yes, they're quite distinct."