“Those are not blaming eyes. Those are protective eyes.”
I glanced into the living room and found that Axel was, in fact, looking at me with an intensity that made my stomach flip.
“I’m his best friend’s sister. He feels obligated to keep me safe. If he doesn’t, Knox will probably murder him when he gets out.”
I winced, realizing I’d said that so casually.
Faith’s head tilted. “Your brother really is in prison for murder?”
“He is.”
“Wrongfully imprisoned?”
I shook my head. “He pled guilty.”
“People plead guilty for all sorts of reasons,” she suggested.
“Well, in this case, he pled guilty because he did it,” I clarified. “This is the part where a lot of people get all self-righteous and awkwardly tiptoe out of the room. Won’t hold it against you if you do that.”
To my surprise, she raised an eyebrow like she was raising chips in a poker match. “I was taken away from my brother when he killed someone right in front of me. Splattered brain matter on the wall and everything. And I appreciated it.” Holy shit. “So, listen when I say, I’d never judge whatever your brother did because I learned at an early age, things are never black and white.”
What the hell? Tessa had implied Faith and Blake had a traumatic past. But Jesus.
“Do you mind if I ask who he killed?” she asked too casually. I’d argue most people couldn’t pull off thewho did your brother murderquestion with such normalcy.
I blinked, having to work hard to stop myself from asking a million questions. “Maybe someday, when this is all behind us, we can get into Knox’s whole story. But honestly, I don’t even know the whole story. He bottled up secrets and kept them locked away in that prison cell.”
“But you never turned your back on him.”
I chewed my thumbnail. “He’s family.”
Faith patted my arm with a clear change-of-subject tone. “Well, in any case, I don’t think Axel’s looking at you because you’re his best friend’s sister.”
My cheeks burned. “My ex-boyfriend wants me back,” I reminded her, as if saying it out loud would make her stop talking about Axel.
She paused. “Okay, but let me ask you this: is there any part of you that likes Axel?”
“He drives me crazy.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“He calls me Sunshine, and I don’t even know why.”
Her lips tilted up. “Have you asked him?”
“No, because I don’t care why he calls me Sunshine.”
Faith laughed. “Your body language disagrees with literally everything you just said.”
“My body language is naive.”
“Well, I guess that solves that then. My radar must be really off because when I’m around you two, I pick up all sorts of vibes.”
With that, Faith hopped down from the counter, patted my arm, and said, “You get any other creepy Mafia threats, send me a picture. We can make a scrapbook of them.”
Smiling, I watched her leave the kitchen.
Later, after everyone left, I retreated to my room with a book, trying to lose myself in someone else’s problems, but a soft knock interrupted my escape.
