“His name is Fox,” I explained. To Lai’s credit, he didn’t ask any more questions.
“I’ll look after Fox. Maybe figure out what his deal is. You go home.”
I hesitated.
Every instinct in me screamed not to leave.
I stepped close to Fox, leaning into the driver’s side, glancing into the back seats.
The shadow wasn’t there.
The absence felt very, very loud.
“Be a good boy,” I whispered as I reached for the keys. The ignition held on to them; I didn’t force it. Fox obviously had plans, and I didn’t want to be here when Lai paid for his criticism. I stepped back, forcing a grin that shook a little in the corners.
If anyone but me could handle Fox, it was Lai. The price was going to be steep, though, and I had already spent twelve grand.
I just hoped Fox loved me more than he hated Lai.
“Goodnight, you two. Please don’t do anything too expensive.”
Chapter Six
Fox
I don’t like your friend.
I might not be human, but even I can see the familiarity you shared with Lai. The way your voice shifted, the way your body angled toward him without thinking—the history between the two of you is unfinished business, something I wasn’t privy to. I fought to contain my jealousy, for your sake.
I know you don’t love him anymore; you’d told me as much already, on the drive to the academy, trying to reassure me.
You don’t love him.
But you trust him.
So for your sake, I would have to trust him, too.
But I sure as Hell don’t have to like him.
Still, I could be nice, at least while you were watching me.
I huffed sullenly as you walked away, trusting me, leaving me alone with Lai. I listened as your phone signal stretched, thinned, and finally snapped, the connection between usdissolving into silence.
My engine snarled back to life, highbeams glaring at Lai.
It felt cheap to run over someone leaning on a cane, but no one’s ever accused a Mustang of being shy about who they hit.
There was nowhere for Lai to go.
“Hey, now.” Lai tried to soothe me, no doubt sensing my intention; I wonder what gave it away? Was it the smoke curling over my back wheels as they spun in place, laying down rubber, building up power and speed? All I had to do was lift my brake, and the pretty, purple-haired boy would be little more than paste.
“Look, we started on the wrong foot. Wheel?” Lai let out a nervous laugh, putting his hand out as if that would be enough to hold me back from painting the garage wall with his guts.
Tires still screeching, I allowed myself to be seen by the man. My form slipped from shadow to shape, settling onto the hood in front of him, close enough that he could see every detail, every line, every inch of what he’d insulted.
Close enough that he could understand the mistake he’d made.
“You called me ugly,” I hissed at him.
