“Cool! We’ll have to barbeque or something while you’re in town.” She takes a swig of her drink then eyes me. “Where’s Mom?”
“Bedroom. How was your study group?”
“Good, I think I’m ready to ace this exam. Killian is a whiz at math. I swear he’s like a modern day Carl Gauss.”
Braeden swings his gaze to me, his eyebrows dropping low, then slides it back to her. “Who the fu—er . . . crap is Carl Gauss?”
She looks at me, blue eyes sparkling.
“No.” I shake my head and take a swig of my beer. “Don’t look at me. I have no friggin’ clue who he is either.”
She rolls her eyes and drops a hip onto a barstool. “Does ‘It is not knowledge, but the act of learning that grants the greatest enjoyment’ sound familiar?”
My brother and I lock eyes for a second, and I can see the confusion I’m feeling reflected in his expression. We both give our version of negative grunts.
“Huh . . .” She giggles. “Did you guys graduate from high school?”
Her little jab has Brae grinning and pride swelling in my chest. I love that she’s brave, strong enough to throw sass, and not afraid to express herself. Just like her mom.
“Ah . . . I know who Carl Gauss is.” Brae locks his arms behind his head. “He’s the beer guy. Pretty good stuff too.”
She laughs and shakes her head. “No, he’s a mathematician. Killian talks about him a lot. I think he’s like, I don’t know, his idol or something.” Her hands shove deep into the pockets of her sweatshirt, and I know she’s saying something without using words. I just can’t figure out what it is. My guess is it has something to do with Killer.
He and Axelle have been friends for a while, but it’s obvious the young fighter-in-training has feelings for her beyond friendship. Her feelings for him are more of a mystery, and I can only hope that one day she’ll figure her shit out and give the guy a chance. That is, after I put the fear of God into the kid that he’ll be keeping his dick to himself until she’s . . . well, forever.
“As much as I love a good ole conversation about dead mathematicians, I’ve been stuck on base with a bunch of dudes for way too long and the city waits.” Brae stands and throws back the rest of his beer. “I’m off to break some hearts.” He gives us a halfhearted salute. “I’ll touch base with you guys tomorrow, and we can figure out our plans for Axelle’s barbecue.”
Axelle squeals and scurries over to give Brae one last hug. “Awesome, see you then.” Her eyes find mine. “I’m going to say goodnight to Mom.”
I nod and she takes off to my room before I turn to my brother.
“Thanks for the beer.”
“Of course.” I move around the island to walk him out.
Once at the door, he pauses and meets my eyes. “Do me a favor? Just think about it. Mom really wants—”
“Have fun tonight.” I can’t help it. I just don’t want him to finish that sentence. Whatever Mom really wants is only going to fuck with my head. The fact is I can’t leave, not even for a day.
Understanding washes over his expression, and his jaw clenches before he pushes whatever it is he’s thinking down and relaxes his shoulders. “Right.” He moves to the door.
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
He chuckles and smirks at me from over his shoulder. “Oh, so don’t . . .” He scratches his jaw in thought. “Huh, I guess anything goes then.”
I shove him through the front door, and even though it was an easy shove, it doesn’t faze him. I remind myself to ask him later what he’s benching. Later, when the request from my mom isn’t burning a hole in my head.
What the hell could she possibly have to say now? And why do I even care?
Six
Layla
It’s cramped and dark. I can’t straighten my legs or maybe it’s just that I don’t have the strength to. My head spins and I try to focus on where I am.
Voices. Laughter and whispering jumbled together.
My legs move, but not by my will. They’re being moved for me. I struggle to slam them closed but lack the strength and muscle control. They fall open.
Something tells me I should fight, but I don’t. I’m numb. Not only physically, but mentally. Detached and floating beyond my body.
Where am I?
I’m pulled on, rubbed against. My mouth is wet and warm. I gag uncontrollably and try to turn my head away.
“Shit, she’s waking up!”
That voice . . . so familiar and yet . . . not.
I push back the haze and reach for consciousness. It’s within my reach. I can feel it. Cold air hits my bare body and pulls me closer to the surface.
Feeling returns in my feet, hands; my heart pounds in my chest. I blink open my eyes only to recoil.
Blake!
His hand at my neck.
His angry glare, dark with hate, fixes on mine.