“By doing what?”
“Staying alive… and allowing me to rescue you.”
“Stupid girls. We always need rescuing.”
“Stupid boys, we always jump at the chance to do it.” I fought back tears of rage, tears of vengeance, tears of anger that my precious girl would have to endure the fires of hell at my hands. It was never supposed to be this way — never.
“I love you.” She kissed my lips.
“I love you too.” I kissed her back softly. “Now, let’s pack. It looks like we’ll have plenty of time to slumber-party in the next few months.”
“Yay.” She rolled her eyes.
“And…” I flashed a shameless grin. “…maybe we’ll find some time to work on that whole goal you have before you die.”
“What goal?” Her eyebrows puckered together in confusion.
“The goal.” I eyed her up and down. “You know, about not dying a virgin.”
“Ass.” She tossed a pillow at my head and let out a breathless laugh.
“Hey, I’m just offering to help with the bucket list!”
Mo burst into the room. “Is it true?” She looked between me and Trace and back at me again, waiting for me to confirm the ugly truth.
I nodded.
She closed her eyes and let out a heavy sigh. “They’re going to come for all of us.”
“I know.” I walked over to Mo and pulled her in for a hug. “But we’ll be ready.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.” I held out my hand to Trace.
She wrapped it around mine and joined in on the hug.
Funny, on the first day of school the only thing I’d been able to think of was how the hell I was going to get the new girl out of my life.
And now?
Now, I was fighting like hell to keep her in it.
To keep her alive.
To keep my sister alive.
And to keep my best friend from taking away the one girl who had the power to change it all.
CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
The final countdown
Chase
EVERY PERSON HAS A moment where time stands still.
I’d just experienced mine. The funny part? I’d almost missed it. It had been such a foreign feeling that I’d passed it off as having low blood sugar — being lethargic.
Legs heavy, breathing labored, I walked across campus toward my car.
The wind picked up, and a few leaves danced around the grass, swirling at my feet. I looked up.
She was walking toward me.
My heart slammed in my chest.
How was it possible that a person’s mere presence could render me speechless?
Trace was wearing the boots I’d gotten her. She pulled her black leather jacket tight around her body and continued walking.
Where the hell was her security? I’d left her in Nixon’s very capable hands for the past hour. And now she was alone.
“Hey,” I called out, my voice low, hoarse.
“Hey.”
Her smile lit up my world, just like everything else she did. I felt calm around her — like a cloud of peace had descended on the war raging inside of me.
Visions of betrayal danced in my head as I watched her breathe in and out, having no idea that just the fact that she was breathing in the same air I was… was pushing me over the edge, making me want to choose. Making me want to force her to choose.
Not that she had any idea there was a choice in the first place.
That was the part that sucked. She didn’t know. She had no freaking idea that I was a man obsessed, deranged, sick for her.
“Where’s Nixon?” I asked calmly.
“Oh he’s picking me up in a few minutes.” She rolled her eyes. “I had to go grab more comfortable shoes anyway.”
“Are you saying my boots suck?” I pretended to be offended and offered her my arm.
Rolling her eyes, she looped her arm within mine and laughed. “No. Your boots rock. Come on, they’re original Wyns!”
“Are you mocking me?”
“Depends. You in a teasing mood, or did you just get done shooting someone?”
I laughed. “Yes… and yes.”
“Yes and yes?”
“I’m in a teasing mood.” I tilted my head toward her and winked. “And I didn’t just get done shooting someone, but it’s entirely possible a knife was involved, lots of blood, boy violence, making a grown man cry — you know, a typical day in the life of Chase.”
“Well…” She sighed. “…at least you aren’t making girls cry.”
“Aw, honey, if they’re crying, I can guarantee it’s not because they’re sad.”
“Fear?” she guessed.
“Pleasure,” I whispered, overstepping my boundaries. Scratch that — freaking jumping over the boundary and pulling her closer to my body so that we shared the same heat.