Ever since I left her room after the anniversary party, I haven’t been able to see straight. Even now, my dad’s words—Vincent’swords—are branded in my brain so deeply I still can’t shake the burn.
But when Eva is in front of me, I see just fine.
My breath grows heavy as pressure builds in my chest. With a thumb, I stroke her hand beneath the blanket. Her lips part, and a quiet sigh escapes. I can’t stop myself from skimming my lips against hers to catch the sound and swallow it.
My chest hammers hard. The blood rushes to my ears.
Fuck, what I’d do to really kiss this girl.
The screech of tires tearing out of our driveway hits my ears. Pathetically, from too many nights of waiting up, I know the revving engine belongs to my dad’s Aston Martin. I listen to the sound until it fades, taking the heat in my veins with it.
Letting out a rough breath, I force myself to sit up, careful not to disturb Eva. I run my palms through my hair and over my face, squeezing my eyes shut. Every cell in me weighs heavily with the need to stay in this bed with Eva. It’s araw,incessantneed, but my dad’s peeling tires remind me why I need to get the hell up and study. I bring my gaze back to her.
Eva.
She’s everything this family isn’t. My dad works in law for nothing more than power and manipulation. My mom only lives for status. Eva’s different from the obnoxious guests who were present at my parents’ anniversary party. She’s different from everyone in this neighborhood, people who have no clue what real life is actually like for those they claim to want to help.
And I’m one of them.
I might not be a Rutherford by blood—something rough and painful climbs up my throat at the thought—but I may as well be. I can have whatever I want, thanks to Vincent’s money. I’m attending the prestigious school he sends me to. I even took advantage of my status, myname, to get Mr. Doau to leave Eva alone. But I’m not going to be like them forever.
Eva shifts, and a soft moan escapes as she moves closer to me in her sleep. Her hand touches mine, her breath deepening once more. I look down at our connecting fingers.
She doesn’t talk about her life before she got here, but I know she’s been through hell. My parents know it too, yet nothing has been done about it. My jaw clenches, my gaze traveling up her body to her face. Someone hurt her. Someone who’s probably still out there. And Vincent, a man who claims to be a protector of the law, hasn’t done shit about it because he and my mom see life through a crystal lens. Eva’s pain isn’t real to them. They didn’t see her all those nights she crept into our yard, and they still don’t see her now that she’s right in front of them.
Their crystal lens isn’t new though. My parents have been blind for decades.
They didn’t care that Isaac’s birth mother was being grossly abused by her husband when he was put up for adoption; they only cared that they got their baby.
If I’m not careful, I’ll wind up just like them, in a bubble that isn’t real. In a world made out of tailored suits, Botox, and promises in pill form. In a world where you hide behind money and corner offices, pretending to understand things you don’t even see.
My knuckles curl, and I exhale. I’m not going to become my parents. Like Vincent, I’ll study everything there is to know about the law, but I’ll do it on my terms. Without his name. Without his money. I’ll earn my pretentious fucking corner office, but I won’t dare warm the seat until I’ve stuck both my feet in the mud as a cop. I’m going to earn my way firsthand to protect the people I claim to serve.
My breath starts to slow as I carefully brush a strand of hair from Eva’s face. The ice in my blood thaws. She shouldn’t have had to go through whatever it is she did. But she’s safe now.
And I’m going to make sure she always is.
Knock, knock, knock.
My spine goes rigid.
“Darling.”
Shit. What the hell is my mom doing up so early?
“Open the door, please.”
Just as the knob starts to turn, I bolt up from my bed and beat my mom to it. With a quick glance over my shoulder to make sure Eva’s still asleep, I slip into the hallway and close the door behind me.
I frown as I take in the dark circles beneath my mom’s bloodshot eyes. Her hair looks like a rabid cat, and faint wrinkles line her red blazer. I want to be angry with her, Iamangry, but I can’t get the memory of her crying out of my head, and right now, I hardly even recognize her.
“Easton,” she says quietly. Inspecting my face, she reaches up, and trembling fingers stroke my cheek.
Unease spreads through me. “What’s going on?” I ask gently. Cautiously.
She drops her hand, shakes her head. “Nothing. I just wanted to see my sweet boy. Is there a law against that?”
My eyes narrow.Sweet boy?
