Fallen Crest Home (Fallen Crest High #6)

“She lied to you all your life about your dad.”


Yep. She’d done that. David wasn’t my actual dad.

“And when your real one came around, she blackmailed him into leaving.”

The lady was dedicated.

“Then when you started dating Mason, she threatened to turn him into the cops for having sex with you.”

Oh yeah. Statutory rape could be a bitch, but Mason wasn’t two years older than me. He was only one. I found out that nice little bit of information later. I hadn’t needed to worry that his entire future could’ve been ripped to shreds by the woman whose loins I came from.

I was good with this. Really. It didn’t bother me to hear a list of all the shitty things Analise had done before finally disappearing into a mental hospital for two years.

Then Heather dropped the last bomb. “She killed your unborn siblings, and you were the one who found her.”

In a pile of blood.

I called 911.

I was eleven.

I suppressed a shudder at that one. “What do you want me to say? She’s back. She’s going to marry James, who is also Mason’s father. There’s nothing I can do.” I cooled my tone. “I refuse to let her matter to me.”

“Good for you.” Heather saluted me with a pretend drink, her hand curled around an invisible glass. “Now get wicked drunk so you can tell me how you really feel.”

I snorted and covered my face with my hand. “I can’t believe I did that.”

“Thank God you did.” Heather grinned, a dry note in her normally husky voice.

I eyed her, waiting. This was when she’d normally return to her shift, but this was our first visit since Mason and I got home to Fallen Crest from college a week ago. Yes, that made me a small coward. Heather Jax had been one of my most loyal friends since high school, and she had the ability to cut through the bullshit.

Mason and Logan held the same qualities, but I lived with them, so they weren’t constantly calling me out. They were just watching, waiting.

A second shiver wound its way down my spine. I ignored it. It was a habit fast becoming a daily routine.

“Why don’t you tell me about you and Channing?” I asked. “You two married yet?”

I meant it as a joke, but her eyes shifted. Her lips pressed into a strained line. “He wants to. He’s nuts. That’s what he is.”

“Are you joking?” My mouth hung open. “Channing asked you to marry him?!”

She rolled her eyes. “No, but… Well, yes. He asked me a while ago because we had a pregnancy scare, but it was only a scare. No baby. I thought he’d drop it.”

“He didn’t?”

“He didn’t.” She was so glum. “He wants to settle down. I think it’s mostly because he’s raising Bren since their mom died.”

“Wait. What?”

Channing Monroe? An older brother? Now like a dad to some little girl? This wasn’t an image I could wrap my mind around. Mason and Logan had run Fallen Crest Public High School, and Channing, a model look-alike, had done the same with his high school, Roussou Public.

Roussou was the neighboring town and our usual rival, which had sometimes led to bloodshed back when Brett and Budd Broudou ran Roussou. Channing had worked with Mason and Logan and helped take control of Roussou. It helped that Brett Broudou eventually realized how much of a psychopath his brother was, and now Budd was currently residing in prison for attempted rape. Channing kept his town in check, but I wasn’t so sure about him raising a child.

“Isn’t he running a bar in Roussou now?” I thought that was what Logan had said one time.

Heather nodded, letting out a loud breath of air. “Yeah. Like I have time to play house. I’m running this place since my dad retired and going to community college. I don’t have time to raise some teenager. Besides, the girl is tough as nails. She doesn’t need or want a mommy replacement. Trust me. I’ve been there. I don’t want to deal with another me.”

“Whoa.” I couldn’t get over it. “Channing’s like a dad…”

“More like a big brother extraordinaire, but he tries. She’s got her own crew, though. She’ll be fine.” She held up a hand. “And don’t get ahead of yourself. Channing is not just being the model big brother extraordinaire. He’s got some stupid shit going on the sidelines, too.”

“Heather!”

She raised her hand, her middle finger extended, but her brother couldn’t see from where he yelled her name.

“Get in here!”

She collected her cigarettes and stood. “I’m five feet from where he’s standing. You think he really needs to scream at the top of his lungs?”

“I heard that,” Brandon shot back. “You do the same to me, Heatherkins.”

“Do not call me that!” she snapped, reaching for the door. She paused before heading inside. “Hey, I’m going to this thing for Channing later. He’s fighting in a big event tonight. If you’re super bored, come with me. It’d be nice to have another female friend there.”

There was no thinking required. If I stayed home, I’d go nuts wondering when Analise would strike.

“I’m in.”





“You’re where?”

I was leaning against Heather’s car in the middle of a field, surrounded by a couple hundred other cars, and all around me was bass-heavy music, yelling, and a scream every now and then. I had my finger plugging my other ear, but I still strained to hear Mason over the phone.

“Channing’s fighting tonight,” I told him. “I’m going with Heather and her brother.”

“Wait. What?”

I paused at hearing the snap in his voice. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re at a fighting event?”

“Yes.” My mouth turned down.

“In Roussou?”

“Yes.” My frown deepened. I could feel the wrinkles starting in my forehead and the wheels were churning. I hadn’t even thought about it, but once it hit me, I wanted to smack myself there.

“Oh no.”

“Yeah,” he bit out over the phone. “Are you kidding me, Sam? You’re there alone? It’s dangerous there. I still have enemies in Roussou and you’re alone.”

“I’m not.” I glanced over at Heather and Brandon, but I knew he wouldn’t care about them or even about Channing and all of his friends. When he said alone, he meant he or Logan weren’t with me.

I cringed, gritting my teeth. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think about it. I just didn’t want to go crazy at home.”

He sighed, or I thought he sighed. I was guessing what the sounds were on his end about eighty percent of the time. “Can you wait until I’m done here? I can leave early. I don’t give a shit what my dad says.”

Oh. Well, fuck. Again. “I’m already here.” I rushed forward, “I’m sorry. I am. I didn’t think and to be honest, I only thought there’d be like thirty people here.” I looked around. “There’s gotta be around a hundred or so.”