“What are you assholes doing here?” he says. “I told you not to come. You’ll get a team fine.”
“We cleared it with Coach,” Max says. “He said, and I quote, ‘I hope you can ID that bastard and bring justice to your family.”
Winter’s hand tightens in mine.
I glance over at her. “You okay?”
She nods. But as my three brothers turn toward the door of the station, Winter tugs at my hand like she’s trying to pull away.
“I don’t belong in there, Hunter.” Her blue eyes are as still as the lake I used to fish in with my dad. “You four deserve to do this in private. It’s a family matter.”
But I’m not letting her go that easily. “Do youwantto come with me?” I ask her.
“I want to support you,” she says. “However that works for you. What I don’t want is to get in the way.”
Liam’s holding the door open for us. “Come on, you two.” He looks at Winter. “You were there for Hunt on that shitty night. And for every day after for months. In ways I couldn’t be. So don’t you think for one second that we don’t want you here.”
Winter’s eyes soften. “Okay. Thank you, Liam.”
CHAPTERNINETEEN
Winter
We follow the cop through the station hallway single file. Hunter and I sit on metal chairs across from Liam and Max while Jared paces between the four of us.
“Will you sit the fuck down?” Hunter growls at Jared.
“You know I don’t deal that way.” Jared scowls. “I need to keep moving.”
After about ten minutes, the same cop returns. “We’re ready for you,” he says.
Hunter leans over and kisses me briefly on the lips. “Be right back.”
“Take care,” I tell him.
God, that sounded stupid.
“Good luck,” I try again.
Still shitty as hell.
Oh, well. He’s gone with his brothers—all four of them follow the cop down the hall and into a room.
While I wait, I cross and then uncross my legs. I stare at the screen of my phone and realize I’m reading things and not absorbing any of it. The knots in my stomach are so intense I worry I’m going to be sick.
This is personal for me. Mr. Storm may not have been my dad, but his death hit our entire community hard. To watch the four Storm boys become orphans was brutal. Thank God Liam had just turned eighteen and could file for custody of his brothers. The idea of them being separated still gives me chills. I don’t think any of the four would have survived if they had been taken from each other.
As I continue to sit on the cold metal chair and wait, flashbacks of the night Hunter’s dad died flood my brain. And my heart.
I was sitting cross-legged on my bed, wearing my favorite slouchy sweatshirt and worn blue jeans. I’d been staying up late all week, trying to learn my lines for our school’s rendition of Rent. The pebble—honestly, it was a rock and Hunter’s lucky the glass didn’t shatter—hitting my bedroom window startled me so much I dropped my laptop on my bare foot. While I was hobbling off my bed, another stone hit the pane. I glanced out, and thanks to my dad’s always-on security lights, I saw Hunter standing on our lawn. He was looking up at my window, and we caught eyes.
Even through glass and from a story up, I knew something was very wrong.
Hunter and I weren’tthatcouple. We didn’t go knocking on each other’s windows in the middle of the night for a romantic rendezvous. We didn’t sleep over at each other’s houses or make out for hours after dark. We hooked up when the moment presented itself, and then we walked away like it was nothing. Even though that was a lie.
I threw my feet into sneakers, grabbed my backpack with my keys in it, and left my room. Closing my door quietly behind me so my parents would assume I was still in my bedroom, I crept down the stairs and out the back door.
Hunter was waiting. Leaning against the brick wall next to the door, he had his head down so that the hood of his sweatshirt blocked his profile.
