Fierce(32)

He gets up, and I immediately step back as he comes toward me. “I don’t have time right now,” he says, and he slams the door shut.

It takes me a while to realize I’m not even breathing.

I take in a sharp breath. If what I saw there was real, Brody is a … drug dealer?

My God …

Why?

“Brody,” I shout. “Open the door. We need to talk.”

No response.

I start banging on the door, but he doesn’t open. “Why are you doing this?”

I’m asking questions I know the answer to already. But I don’t understand why he couldn’t think of any other way to make enough money. I know we’ve always been a bit poor, but that doesn’t mean he should stoop so low and just go the criminal route.

This can’t be real. It just can’t. Never in my life would I have imagined him dealing drugs. And yet everything he’s done the last couple of days suddenly makes all the sense in the world. He’s changed so much, I don’t even recognize him anymore.

And that’s when I realize he’s no longer my friend.





Chapter 12


Tug of War



I love sitting under a tree, reading a book. With the warm sun on my face and a light breeze it’s the best thing in the world. Nobody to disturb me or tear me from the pages of my book.

The word ‘my’ makes me gloat. It’s not actually ‘my’ book. It’s the book Hunter gave me yesterday, and it still smells like him. Well, more like his room, but still, anything that reminds me of him makes me giggle.

I twirl my fingers through the grass as I hold onto the book with one hand. I’m lying on the ground on my belly, making sure my clothes don’t get dirty by placing a blanket underneath. When Evie’s still in her classes, I like to spend my time reading and pining over boys I will never have. Gotta do something.

Besides, I don’t have Brody to hang out with anymore.

Even if he wanted to, I’m done with him.

I’ve been forcing myself not to think about him since yesterday. He doesn’t deserve it, and it would only make me cry. I don’t want to cry over something so pathetic.

I should just forget about him.

Suddenly, a shadow is cast over the pages of my novel. The sun is blocked by something … or someone.

As I peer up with furrowed brows, I see it’s Hunter, and my annoyed look turns into a cheerful smile.

My eyes light up the moment I see him. He’s towering above me, wearing ragged pants and a flimsy tank top, which barely covers his broad chest. I gulp at the sight, especially because his black jacket makes him look so tough.

He’s like a motorcycle rider, only he isn’t. He just looks like one.

Hunter goes to his knees and snatches away my book.

“Hey!” I snap. “I was reading that.”

“Yeah, ‘was.’ And now you’re not.” He holds out his other hand. “Get up.”

I grab his hand, and the moment my fingers touch his it sends electrical shocks through my entire body. He’s so strong, he can lift me in one go without my help. My boobs bounce from the way he jerks me up, and I see his eyes flick to them for only a fraction of a second.

I gulp, and a flush spreads across my face as I pull my shirt up higher.

“What’s this for?” I say.

“Time for some training.” He leans forward, grabs the blanket, and folds it up.

“What, now?”

“Yes, now. My classes are finished, and by the looks of it so are yours. We don’t have much time, so let’s make the best use of it.”

“B-but I have to study and―”

“But, but, but,” he mocks, making a pouty face. “If you wanna learn how to defend yourself, you gotta put in the effort.”

I frown. “I was busy. You think I’m just going to adjust to your schedule?”

“You can read a book anytime you want. I can’t do this with you anytime I want. If I could, I would, trust me,” he grunts with a thick voice that makes me shiver.

My pupils dilate when he says that, and my core heats up. Damn, why does he always do those things? And why do I find it so goddamn attractive?

He steps back a little, putting on a cocky smile as he throws my … his book in the grass. Then he throws the blanket on top of it. Grinning, he takes off his jacket. The lines of his muscles show clearly through the thin fabric of his tank top, and my heart is already beating in my throat just seeing it. His biceps bulge and for a second I think he’s flexing them.

“C’mon,” he says, rubbing his hands together. “I’m ready for you.”

One of my eyebrows lifts up. “What? In these clothes? I’m not dressed for sparring.”