Booker turns curious eyes on me. “He’s not my type?”
Of course he’s going to make me talk. “Boring.”
“Huh.” His muddy brown gaze slides over me. “Good to know.”
Before I can get the courage to say anything else, Wilde cuts in.
“And that’s all you’ll ever know. I’ve told you to stay away, and I mean it.”
“I’m never allowed to have any fun.”
“Bullshit. You have too much fun.”
We turn back into the trees, headed for Lynx’s place, and I keep my eye out for any unfamiliar faces. Booker and Wilde bicker between themselves, and for maybe the first time ever, I wish I could join them.
I’m sick of living on the outskirts.
Of that constant feeling of being here, but not here.
My confidence is too temporary, and even though I just spoke, I can’t bring myself to do it again. Their conversation is fast and natural, and anything I say will drag it to a close.
I fucking hate this.
And I’m scared I’ll always feel this way.
CHAPTER
EIGHT
KENNEDY
One thing I hadn’t realized until this very moment: I have no idea where Ziggy lives. I mean, Iknew that, but it wasn’t something I ever worried about knowing.
Except now it’s been three days since I’ve seen him, so I’m worrying about it a lot. The next time we play hooky, I’m making him take me there so that I don’t always have to wait for him to come to me.
“Do you know where Ziggy lives?”
Hudson’s sitting on the floor not far from me, and he looks up from the plans he’s checking over. “No. How would I know that?”
“Because Wilde showed you around. I thought you might have seen it.”
“Why would he show me Ziggy’s place?”
“I dunno. I’ve seen where that psycho Lynx lives.”
Hudson tosses the plans aside and slides closer. “You have? Is it in a cave?”
“Nah, it’s a little fairy-tale cabin type of thing.”
My brother hums as he thinks. “Like Wilde’s. Maybe we should burn it down?”
“Or maybe we don’t anger the monster any more than we already have.” There’s a burning intensity inside Lynx that I don’t want to see explode. Maybe I’m a wimp, or maybe I’m exercising basic self-preservation, but I have no interest in discovering the answer.
“You could take him,” Hudson says like I was contemplating that in the first place.
“Not a theory I want to test out.”
“So …” He turns his attention to balancing a nail on its head. “Why did you want to know about Ziggy?”
