Page 201 of Red Marked

“I know.” She puts the wig on the dashboard. “I’m fine with it. I’ve told you that before, Flint.”

I’m sure she believes it, but she might change her mind once we’re inside. She almost mated this male. They haven’t officially broken up or anything.

Star needs to make these kinds of decisions herself, so I don’t argue.

“Okay.” I open my door. “Let’s do this.”

We cross the road. The gate is open. The path up to the porch is paved with slate and lined with clipped hedges. I hate to say it, but it’s really nice. I knock.

It doesn’t take long, and the door is opened. The male is tall with short dark hair. He’s muscled under a fitted shirt, with jeans and bare feet. He has a mug in his hand and a polite half-smile ready for whoever’s on his step.

Then he sees her.

The smile fades. The mug tilts, and coffee sloshes over the rim onto the floorboards. He blinks a few times like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. The color drains out of him.

He pulls in a breath. “Star?” It comes out cracked.

“Hi, Jett.”

“No.” He shakes his head. “No. You’re…no, no, no!”

“I’m not dead. I didn’t…um…die.”

“But I went to your…” He puts the mug down on the hall table without looking and misses the edge. It hits the floor but doesn’t break. He steps over it. He takes her by the shoulders and looks at her like she’ll disappear if he lets go. “I went to your funeral. I stood next to your mother. I cried. How are you here? What is happening? What…?”

“Can we come inside?” Star says. “It’s a long story.”

He doesn’t move. Then he does. He pulls her into him, wraps both arms around her, and puts his face in her hair.

“I don’t understand this, but… I missed you,” he says into it. “I missed you so much. You have no idea.” His voice is choked. He looks like he might start bawling at any second.

Star’s arms come up and go around him. They’re stiff for a second. Then they aren’t.

I stand on the porch, trying hard not to look at them and failing.

The male’s shoulders are shaking. He’s crying. His hand is spread across the back of her head, and he’s rocking her like a child.

What the fuck?!

He pulls back finally, wipes his face with his palm, and laughs. It’s a wet, broken sound.

Then he hugs her again.

I roll my eyes.

What a pussy. Fuck!

“Come in. Come in.” He’s got her by the hand, tugging her over the threshold. He looks back at me as an afterthought, like he only just remembered I exist. “Sorry. Please. Come in.”

The hallway opens into a living room that’s all pale wood and glass and views over the backyard. There’s a pool out there and a covered patio with an outdoor kitchen.

“Sit. Please sit.” He steers Star to the sofa. Then he seems to remember his manners and turns to me with his hand out. “I’m sorry. I’m Jett.”

He gives me a weak-as-fuck handshake. I have to work not to squeeze…hard.

I want to.

I want to, so badly.