“Fine.” She sighs, the word all breath and resignation. “But it’s not a date. We’re doing classwork. Your worksheet was trash.”
“Deal.” I laugh.
“Want me to go in there and knock that fucker out for making you cry?”
Her mouth twitches. “No. He’s just an asshole. Always has been. Usually he doesn’t get to me, but… last night was a lot.”
I rub the back of my neck. “Sorry, my mom’s a bitch.”
That gets a small, real smile. “She makes my dad happy, but yeah… she has a way of picking apart everything I do. My major, my future, even my dinner choices.”
“She’s judgmental as hell. Always has to keep up with the Joneses. That’s why she sent me away. Why she keeps Minxy locked in a schedule like a show pony? She’s all about control.”
“You’re an adult, Talon,” she says softly. “Why do you still let her control you?”
I grin, even though the question cuts deeper than she realizes. “I’ll tell you more about that on our date.”
“Not a date,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Tutoring.”
“Whatever helps you sleep at night, baby.”
She laughs—low, reluctant, but it’s there—and turns away. I watch her walk down the hall, hips swaying under that skirt like gravity bends for her.
Yeah. I’m completely fucked.
But I’ve got a plan.
If Brose thinks he can talk to her like that, he’s got another thing coming.
No one makes my girl cry.
The cheap glow of my phone lights up the car’s interior as I plot three moves ahead. I don’t plan on asking questions. I plan on making him wish he’d never raised his voice at her.
I follow him off campus without looking like I’m following him. He’s predictable—two blocks to his car, a quick stop for coffee, then the gym. I tail at a distance, keeping to the shadows, waiting for the right moment.
When he parks and disappears through the gym’s door, I pull into the lot across the street. The engine idles, and I change in the driver’s seat. Black jeans, black hoodie, sneakers. I slide a ski mask up over my face and tuck my glasses into the roof compartment with practiced ease.
I sit for a beat, feeling the mask hug my face. The world narrows to the hum of the engine and the distant clatter of weights from inside the gym. After slow breaths, my pulse steadies, and I open the car door.
My phone buzzes. Minxy. I see her name, and a weird sort of heat presses at my chest like nothing else does.
“Hey, baby sis,” I answer, keeping my voice low.
“Hi, big bro. How’s life?” She laughs, as if everything’s all stupid and fine.
“It’s life,” I tell her. “I’m back home, going to college.”
“Following the witch’s rules then?” she jokes.
I huff, a sound that holds more anger than I want to admit. “I am. It’s the only way she’ll let me see you.”
There’s a long pause, and then I swear I hear her sniffle.
“It’s been years, Minx. I want to see your face in person. Not photos, not FaceTime. I want to hug my favorite sister and make sure you’re okay. I’ll do whatever I have to so she lets you come home,” I say. “Chad seems cool.”
“Yeah.” She sighs. “He seems nice from what Abi describes of him. I heard he has a smoking hot daughter who’s older than you.” She giggles.
“How do you know that?” I ask.
