“Why not?”
“Because I’m a grown-up capable of making my own decisions.”
“That’s not how things work around here.”
“That’s how things work for me.” I turn around and leave him to stand there.
“They were also concerned that there may be something inappropriate transpiring with you and Miss Stringer. They said Miss Stephens confided in them about it this morning. I don’t have to tell you how serious this allegation is, Pierce. Tell me now if there’s any truth to it.”
I’m sure their daughter fed them the only truth she knows. That Mr. James and Miss Remington have been known to stay in the classroom long after the bell has rung. Maybe she even knows that we locked the door a few times. I wasn’t exactly careful the last few times.
“There’s a little truth in every lie,” I say. And that’s the only information he’s getting out of me.
I have no time for the Stephens. I have no time for Headmaster Charles. Quite frankly, I have no time for my students either. I decide on a whim that for the first time in a long time, I’m going to do something different. Something that isn’t for anyone else but me.
I walk toward my car in the teachers’ lot, start the engine, and drive to the bad side of Vegas.
To the only place where I want to be.
To her.
At noon, the door opens and slams. I’m still in bed, half-asleep, half-awake, and blinking at the ceiling. The papers I stole from Pierce are somewhere no one can find them—in an old textbook I saved from my old school. Maybe it’s all the adrenaline that coursed through my veins last night, but today, I feel oddly lethargic.
“Anyone here?” I hear Ryan’s voice, and the mere sound of him makes my whole body heave with uncontrollable sobs. I cry because I want to save him. I cry because I want to save me. I cry because once upon a time, he wasn’t the man who tried to shove a hand down my skirt. He was the brother who taught me how to skateboard and got me photography accessories for my birthdays.
“Me,” I barely whisper, still lying on my bed. “I’m here.”
His footsteps become louder with every passing second. Fear stabs at my chest, mixed with an unexplainable longing. I can’t wrap my head around everything that I’m feeling right now. There’s too much pain in me to think clearly.
“What are you doing here?” he asks, his fingers hovering over my doorframe. He looks…like Ryan. Like a strong Viking. Like the man who helped raise me and tolerated my crush, then later danced on the line between appropriate and inappropriate. And even though he has lost a bit of weight recently, he is still beautiful.
I cup my mouth with my hand and shake my head, feeling the tears streaming down my cheeks. “Everything is so fucked up, Ry. I’m so mad at you. At him. At everything.”
He is next to me in a second, sitting on my bed and pulling me into a hug. I bury my face in his shoulder. He smells of gasoline and cigarettes and home. Home that doesn’t smell like flowers and cooked meals and a nice feminine perfume, but it is still my home.
“Oh, baby. Rem…” His voice disappears inside my hair, and he is stroking it, and I am breaking just a little bit more, nostalgia making my heart overflow. “What did the bastard do to you?”
“You’re both magnificent bastards.” I sniff in protest, wiggling away from him. “You. Pierce. Dad. You’re all the worst. Dad believing your lies. You making my life hell. Pierce betraying me.”
“I’m jealous.” Ryan’s voice is the softest it can be. “I’m fucking it up because I’m jealous of him. This was not supposed to happen this way. You became a different person since you started going to this fancy school, and it felt like you were leaving us.” There is a pause. Ryan stares at the floor. Then, “He came here last night.”
“He did?” I pull away so I can examine my stepbrother’s face. He nods solemnly, pushing away a lock of my hair from my face. “Sure did, babe. Threatened me. That’s how I got this pretty thing.” He points at his cheek that’s currently purple. I didn’t even bother to notice that Ryan looks all kinds of banged up. I blink once, twice.
“Did you hurt him?” I don’t know why I’m asking this. I certainly shouldn’t care, but I do. He nods.
“He probably looks worse than I do today.”
“Good,” I say, straightening my spine. “Serves him right.” But inside, my heart breaks for yet another reason.
“What’d he do?” Ryan demands, and there’s a certain edge to his voice. The same violence that’s soaring over us ever since he started mixing up with the wrong people.
And as much as I want to protect Ryan—the guy I grew up with, the guy who took care of me all those years, albeit in a weird, screwed-up way—I want to protect Pierce, too. They’ve both hurt me so bad. I shouldn’t even want to entertain myself with the idea of helping either of them, but for now, I’m keeping Pierce’s secret manila envelope for myself.
“Tell me, Ryan. What makes Pierce James hate you so much? What have you done to him?”
Ryan licks his lips and looks away.
Guilty, I think. Guilty all the way.