Crossing the line

Chapter Eleven

September 1992

Tabitha missed riding the bus with Clay.

Even after he got stuck in the foster system, he still bused to school. Probably because most of his foster families didn’t want to spend any more time with him than they had to. Now the start of ninth grade had him in one of those in-between stages where no one wanted him, and he was back living with the Conners.

So Tabitha was riding the bus alone because the sheriff always dropped the twins off before school, and Clay along with them. The last time he was with the Conners, it took them months to find him a new place to stay, so it looked like Tabitha was going to be busing alone for her first many weeks of high school.

How very unfortunate.

She sat in the back, reading her book and avoiding making eye contact because she’d never learned how to make friends. She was still upbeat because Brett started getting rides to school now that Vaughn had somehow gotten a beaten-up older-model car. Not having him on the bus bullying her when he got bored was very refreshing.

Only the first streaks of pink were starting to stretch across the sky, but the bus was nearly full because the buses started on the bad side of town earliest and worked their way to the few spoiled rich kids whose parents were somehow too busy to drive them in the morning.

She didn’t bother to look up when it stopped, so she was surprised when Terry Dower was suddenly standing over her.

“Can I sit?”

Tabitha blinked in surprise at the older boy, but grabbed her backpack and slid over anyway. “I thought you had a car.”

“My parents sold it.”

“Oh.” Tabitha shoved her old backpack down to the ground as Terry sat. “I guess that sucks.”

“It does,” he agreed and let his head fall back against the headrest. His eyes were closed as if he were hiding from life.

Tabitha studied him, surprised by any number of things, not the least of which was Terry riding the bus. His family was one of the richest in Garnet. He had been driving around in a very nice Honda Prelude, and she couldn’t possibly imagine what happened to make his parents sell it.

“Is Maple’s not doing good?” she asked curiously.

“It’s the only grocery store in town. Can’t do anything but good.”

Tabitha noticed she wasn’t the only one amazed by Terry being there. Everyone was looking back to the two of them, whispering under their breath in scandalized shock.

She wanted to ask why, but she didn’t. Terry looked miserable, so she just picked her book back up and started reading. She was good at giving people the space they needed.

They were five minutes closer to school before Terry asked, “Do you and Conner got something going on the side?”

Tabitha made a choked sound of shock. “Excuse me?”

Terry shrugged, a blush staining his cheeks despite his tan still left over from summer. He ran a hand through his dark hair and seemed to be choosing his words. Then he leaned in and spoke in a low voice only Tabitha can hear. “I notice he’s always hanging out with you, but you ain’t going out with him. I was just wondering if y’all were sneaking round or something.”

“No,” she said a little too quickly. “He’s Clay’s best friend. They train all the time together for the circuit, and Clay’s my friend, so—”

“No, I see him looking at you.” Terry gave her a sharp, penetrating glare. “And I see you looking at him too.”

Tabitha rubbed her fingers against her palm, feeling the smooth scarred skin as a reminder. “I don’t like Wyatt Conner.”

“But what if you did? How would you ever be able to date him? You know his daddy wouldn’t put up with him going out with a McMillen any more than your family would want you hanging round the sheriff’s son.”

Tabitha could only gape at him. “You’ve put a lot of thought into this.”

“I just—” he started and then looked away as if trying to find some sort of courage she didn’t understand. Then he turned back to her, his shoulders tense with determination. “If you ever wanted to date Conner, I could help you out.”

Tabitha didn’t want to date Wyatt.

At least that was what she told herself as she felt the scars on her hand once more, but she couldn’t help but ask, “Why would you want to do that?”

“We could help each other out.” His dark eyes were still bright with resolve. “You’re different than the folks round here. You’re always writing and reading. Like an artist. Aren’t artists supposed to be different than other folks? More understanding.”

Tabitha leaned into Terry and confessed, “I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking ’bout.”

“Forget it.” Terry huffed and fell back against the seat. “It was a dumb idea anyway.”

“I don’t even know what the idea is.” Tabitha’s mind was still reeling. This conversation was like trying to put together pieces of a puzzle, and she knew she was missing key facts. “Is this because of your car?”

“Fuck my car,” he growled. “And fuck my mother. I don’t need it.”

Tabitha fell back against the seat and looked ahead, still trying to understand what she was missing. This whole situation was beyond odd. She and Terry weren’t even very good friends. He was two years older than her, and until now he’d been one of those older high school boys she saw in passing but didn’t talk to very often. He was nice, he was handsome, but he was also rich and had very little reason to associate with her.

“When have you been watching me and Wyatt?”

Terry wasn’t very sports minded, so he wouldn’t have been likely to see them at the rec center. True, they ran into each other around town, but to say they hung in different circles was an understatement. The only other place she saw him was at Maple’s, where she would often do shopping for her mother. Sometimes Wyatt and Clay were with her, but not always.

Then something occurred to her, and she turned and asked, “Are we that obvious?”

He gave her a look as a disbelieving laugh burst out of him. “Wyatt’s been hounding you since elementary school. Everyone knows it.”

“It hasn’t been that long.” She felt her cheeks get hot. “Just ’cause we talk don’t mean—”

“Look, I don’t care who you wanna date.” Terry cut her off with another long look. “Not like I got any place to be giving people hell on impossible relationships. I just thought I’d help you out if you wanted to make your move.”

“Make my move?”

“Wyatt Conner ain’t exactly hard on the eyes,” Terry said in a low voice. “He walked onto the varsity football team this year as a freshman. He’s won a million karate trophies, and he’s got that confident stride like his daddy. He talks, and people listen. Every cheerleader in this school is gonna be crawling all over him now that he’s in high school.”

Tabitha’s shoulders slumped, because she couldn’t deny the white-hot rush of jealousy that surged through her at the thought. How could she compete with all those pretty and pressed girls Garnet churned out so easily?

Now that they were in high school, Wyatt was finally going to get himself a real girlfriend. Tabitha tried to tell herself it was a good thing, because Wyatt hadn’t dated in middle school. He focused on sports and pestering her…relentlessly.

She understood why Clay gave in and just started calling Wyatt his friend. He was a hard fella to say no to, but she knew falling for him was a bad idea for all the reasons Terry had stated. More so, she had gotten over her childish hero worship of Wyatt Conner.

While she wished she hadn’t rashly burned her stories, especially when she saw the lengths he’d gone to make up with Clay after that fight, she was glad for the sharp wake-up call that Wyatt was just as normal as anyone else. He bled the same and made the same dumb mistakes as other boys did. He was bold and cocky, a total show-off, and sometimes he said the dumbest things she’d ever heard in her life, but she was still inexplicably drawn to him.

Wyatt just had less fear than other boys, and it made him captivating. That was what had everyone, even Tabitha, staring at him when he thought they weren’t looking. He was always competing in some hazardous sport that left him more than a little bruised, but he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, Tabitha was fairly certain he loved it. She watched him practice with Clay after classes. The meaner Clay got, the happier Wyatt was, and Clay was capable of being terribly mean. That was what made Wyatt seem bigger than life, that wild fearlessness that had him facing down anything dangerous with a grin on his face.

He was taller than other boys—well over six feet since the start of eighth grade. More than that, it seemed out of the blue his arms had gotten big and muscley. His chest was thick and cut. His shoulders broad. He was as tall as Clay now, who had always had a few inches on him.

“God,” she mumbled under her breath when she saw where her thoughts were heading. She actually turned her palm up, staring at the scars for a more solid reminder as she said solemnly, “I do not like Wyatt Conner.”

“Why the heck not?” Terry countered, and Tabitha turned to see him arching an eyebrow at her. When she didn’t have a response to the odd question, he leaned down and looked at her open palm. “What happened to your hands?”

“I hurt myself when I was eleven.”

“How?”

Tabitha looked down to her hand, thinking of the million different answers to the question, and finally settled on, “I was burning my dreams. It left a mark. A reminder.”

“Okay,” Terry said slowly. “You’re definitely weird, Tabitha.”

Tabitha nodded and whispered quietly, “I know.”

“We should be friends,” Terry surprised her by saying. “I think it’s in the unspoken book of rules.”

Tabitha turned to him and came to a startling realization she hadn’t noticed behind Terry’s wealth and good looks that had made him popular by default. “You’re weird too.”

“I’m weirder than you, darlin’.” Terry stood because the bus had come to a stop in front of the high school. “If Garnet were a movie, we’d be the two most intriguing supporting characters.”

Tabitha grabbed her bag and followed after him like a freshman puppy, feeling a strange bolt of excitement at finally finding someone who understood her.

“Who’d be the main characters?” she asked curiously, enjoying Terry’s riddles.

Terry sent her a grin as he stepped off the bus. “Two guesses.”

Tabitha jumped down after him, following his gaze to see Jules Conner crawling from the front seat of the sheriff’s jeep.

“Bye, Daddy.”

Jules’s voice carried all the way across the parking lot, but that wasn’t what held her attention. Tabitha just gaped as Wyatt and Clay slid out from the back. With the two boys standing shoulder to shoulder, she took a moment to really notice how big they’d both gotten. How powerful and intimidating. They were freshmen too, but there was no sign of the nervousness Tabitha had been dealing with for weeks now.

Who the heck would give either of them a bad time? They were taller than most seniors and black belts to boot.

“Oh my God,” Tabitha mumbled, having this very strange moment when she realized Wyatt might not be a real hero, but he certainly had the résumé of one.

“Tab!” Wyatt called out when he spotted her standing there dumbstruck next to Terry Dower.

Tabitha waved back, unable to help smiling in relief. She felt decidedly lighter knowing she was going to walk into the halls of Garnet high school for the first time next to Wyatt and Clay. More than being her only real friends, they were also a shield—the perfect protectors from anything terrible life could throw at her.

She sighed and found herself admitting out loud to her new friend, “I’m in so much trouble, Terry.”

“That ain’t a lie.” Terry patted her shoulder and left her standing there waiting for Wyatt. “You let me know when you need help with that problem.”

Tabitha knew heroes weren’t real. She’d learned that when she was eleven. She was almost certain it was nothing but a childish illusion.

Almost.

Chapter Twelve

“This year is my year. I’m gonna get Tabitha to go out with me.”

“You say that every year.” Clay grunted from his spot on the mat next to Wyatt. The two of them were still breathing hard from wrestling as they lay there looking at the ceiling lights in the rec center. “You think I got a chance for a spot on the varsity wrestling team?”

“You kicked my ass,” Wyatt told him helpfully. “Badly.”

“Yeah, but you ain’t all that good at wrestling.”

“Hey, buddy, I’m better than most,” Wyatt said with absolute confidence. “Just ’cause I don’t spent four hours a day rolling around working on it don’t mean I suck.”

“It does, actually.”

“I hate wrestling. Can’t stand having someone suffocating me and crawling all over me like that. It’s a horrible sport. Jujitsu ain’t far behind. The only reason I take it is ’cause you do,” Wyatt complained. “You’re getting into your ground game a little too much to be normal. I think you need a girlfriend too.”

“Probably,” Clay said grudgingly. “But I can’t even get a family to keep me for more than two months. You think I’m gonna find a girl to put up with me? Wrestling works off frustration.”

“That ain’t a lie,” Wyatt had to reluctantly agree. “No wonder I’m always stuck at the rec center with you. I’m way better at this sport than I wanna be.”

“Try out for the wrestling team.”

“Won’t have time for wrestling. The season’s gonna bleed into football for sure.”

“You don’t know that. They sucked last year. That season ended pretty fucking fast.”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t on the team last year. I’m gonna make damn sure we go to the championships if I have to take down every quarterback in this state.”

Clay snorted. “That’s probably true.”

Wyatt turned his head and gave Clay a cocky grin. “You wait and see. I’m gonna annihilate the other teams. It’s gonna be bloody.”

“What makes you think I’m gonna spend my Friday nights watching you strut round that football field?”

“What the heck else have you got to do?”

“Sit in my room jerking off.”

Wyatt let out a loud bark of laughter. “That’s the reason you can’t get a family to keep ya more than five minutes. You just say whatever rude shit comes to mind.”

“Yeah, like you’re better.”

“At least I know how to say please and thank you at the dinner table.”

Clay’s amusement turned to obvious annoyance as he scowled. “Get off my back, Wyatt.”

“I’m trying to help you. Maybe if you were more polite—”

“Fuck off.”

“Look, buddy, you’re six-three and growing. You tip the scales at two-ten. You can’t be built like that and scowling at anyone who looks in your direction. Trust me, I know what I’m talking ’bout here. Guys built like us got to know how to smile a little. It puts people at ease.”

“You be a clown. I ain’t playing.”

Wyatt covered his eyes and groaned. This shouldn’t be that hard for Clay to understand, but it was. “Why can’t you listen to me and play along? We’re running out of families in Garnet willing to take ya.”

“So fuck Garnet.”

Wyatt’s chest constricted with fear. Clay wasn’t just his friend. He’d become something close to a brother. After living with Jules for the first fourteen years of his life, Wyatt didn’t think he could recover from losing Clay to another town just because he didn’t know how to smile.

“We gotta teach you how to be polite,” Wyatt told him desperately. “You’re my best friend and—”

Clay rolled away from him and made a move to stand. “I ain’t listening to this shit again.”

“And Jules would lose her fucking mind if they yanked you out of Garnet,” Wyatt went on pleadingly. Playing the Jules card was easier than admitting his own feelings. “You know how irrational she gets every time moving you comes up. Can you imagine the drama I’d have to put up with? She loves you like a brother. Heck, between the two of us, she’d probably pick to keep you over me, and I’m her twin.”

“I’m leaving now.”

Wyatt just lay there sullenly as Clay walked out of the gym without another word. He blinked at the ceiling, wondering what the hell he was going to do about Clay’s bad attitude. He and Jules tried hanging out at whatever foster home he was living, nudging him to interact a little with the family, but it never worked out. Even having the sheriff’s kids as best friends didn’t change the fact that a grouchy monster of a teenager who’d grown up on the bad side of town wasn’t a top pick in the foster system. Everyone was waiting for him to turn to drugs and crime like his mother.

If only they knew what Wyatt did, that Clay wouldn’t touch that stuff with a ten-foot pole. He’d broken his foot last year in jujitsu, and they couldn’t get him to take a pain pill to save their lives. He barely took ibuprofen. He was totally misjudged, and the injustice of it burned Wyatt to his core.

Clay wasn’t a bad guy—he just acted like one.

Bastard.

Wyatt drummed his fingers against his bare chest, knowing he was long due to get home. He had homework despite it being the first week of school, which seemed like bullshit. Didn’t they know fellas had football practice and karate and a best friend who insisted on extra training time for wrestling before tryouts?

Wyatt got very little sleep the past few days, but it didn’t feel too bad because Jules and Clay were getting up with him at five to finish the last of the work they couldn’t get done the night before. He liked those quiet mornings at the kitchen table with his sister and best friend. It was going to suck when they yanked Clay out of the house again.

It would suck even worse if they planted him halfway across the state.

“What’s wrong with Clay? I ran into him in the hallway, and he was growly over something.”

Wyatt craned his neck, looking to the door, spying Tabitha standing there with her book bag over her shoulder. He smiled. Seeing her had him forgetting his melancholy.

“Hey, pretty girl, come keep me company.”

Even from a distance, Wyatt could see Tabitha roll her eyes. “Almost everyone’s gone home but you two. It’s almost nine. Is your daddy picking you up?”

“Nah, he works late tonight. We rode our bikes. How you getting home?”

“Same.”

“Ain’t really safe to be riding that far this late, Tab.”

“Safer than being at home.”

“What’s that?” Wyatt scowled, hoping he heard her wrong.

Tabitha shrugged. “Nothing.”

“Okay.” Wyatt sighed in defeat because he was already fighting with Clay. He didn’t want to start something with Tabitha too. “So where have you been tonight? I haven’t seen you since the pizza Coach Jasper ordered at five.”

Tabitha stood at the edge of the mat, looking down at him with that hot look in her eyes that always made the back of Wyatt’s neck feel warm and his stomach jolt.

Her voice was soft as she said, “I was just in the teen lounge finishing things up. Might as well make good use of it since they let me hang out here for free.”

“You can come closer. I don’t bite.” Wyatt crossed his hands behind his head, still looking at Tabitha expectantly. He waggled his eyebrows. “Unless you want me to.”

“You’re so silly sometimes.” Tabitha walked over to him despite the teasing. She tossed her bag onto the mat and sat cross-legged next to him. “So what’re you hiding from tonight?”

“Nothing. Just practicing. Clay’s gonna make a go for the wrestling team. I set a bad example with football. He thinks any freshman can just walk on to varsity.”

“Is that it?” Tabitha asked dubiously.

“Yeah, he’s jealous.”

“Sure, he is.” Tabitha let out a little laugh. “So what’d you say to piss him off this time?”

“Something along the lines of needing him to learn to smile so I don’t lose my best friend. What am I gonna do if they send him away? No best friend and no girl.” Wyatt looked up at her pointedly. “That’s no way to start high school.”

“You could get a girl, Wy.” Tabitha’s gaze drifted to his bare chest, the dreamy sound to her voice taking on a sad note as she said, “You could probably get a whole collection of ’em.”

“Not the one I want.”

Wyatt studied Tabitha, who’d braided her hair into one thick red rope away from her face. Her freckles were more pronounced from summer, her brown eyes soft and soulful as she continued to look down at him thoughtfully after his confession that wasn’t anything usual. He’d stopped being casual about his feelings for her a long time ago.

“You look sad. Tell Wyatt what’s wrong.”

She shook her head.

He rolled onto his side and grabbed her hand. Feeling bold, he kissed her open palm, letting his lips linger on the scars there because he noticed she was always rubbing them. “Do your hands hurt you?”

“No.” Tabitha tried to pull her hand out of his grasp, but he held on. Finally she just huffed and left it where it was. “Why do you like me so much, Wyatt?”

“’Cause you’re awesome.”

“I think you’ve hit your head one too many times. How many concussions have you had again? You and Clay trade ’em like baseball cards.”

He laughed. “I liked you before the concussions.”

“Terry says you’re gonna have girls crawling all over you this year. What’d you think about that?”

“I think I don’t like that you’ve been hanging on Terry this whole week. What’s he got that I don’t?”

“Common sense?” Tabitha supplied helpfully. “Why the heck would you wanna go out with me when you can date real girls? Pretty girls.”

“I think you’re pretty, Tabitha,” he told her softly and then kissed her scarred palm once more to prove his point. “If you knew how pretty I thought you were, you wouldn’t be sitting next to me right now. You make me think naughty things.”

Tabitha finally jerked her hand out of his. “Really, Wy, I wanna know why you like me. ’Cause it don’t make a lick of sense.”

“I dunno.” He gave her an incredulous look because he thought it was a given that they were supposed to be together. “It’s an instinct. I’m happier when I’m around you. Haven’t you ever looked at someone and just known they were made for you?”

Tabitha stared hard at him, the crease in her forehead telling him she was really considering the question before she finally nodded and whispered softly, “Yeah, I have.”

“That someone better be me,” he growled, unable to help the flare of jealousy. “’Cause I could take down Terry Dower.”

“You are so stupid.” Tabitha surprised him by laughing. “I don’t like Terry. Not like that. So don’t be thinking of putting him in the hospital. I don’t think his head is as hard as Clay’s.”

“No one’s head is as hard as Clay’s.” Wyatt crawled up and rested his head on Tabitha’s knee for comfort at the reminder. “Christ, he’s a stubborn bastard.”

Tabitha started stroking his sweaty hair, pushing it away from his forehead. His entire world clicked into place in that one moment, and he closed his eyes in lazy exhaustion.

“Go out with me,” he said when Tabitha’s touch lured him into a false sense of security.

“No.”

“Kiss me.”

“No.”

“At least admit you love me.”

“Definitely no. My mama’s been doing good. She’s got a job and everything, but she’s so dang paranoid ’bout the state grabbing us, especially since Brett’s been getting into trouble. If I started going out with a Conner, she’d turn back to the bottle for sure.”

Wyatt blinked up at Tabitha, seeing the crease was back in her forehead as she looked down at him. “I’ll be a famous boxer instead of a sheriff. How ’bout that?”

She gave him a sad smile and whispered, “No.”

“You’re worse than Clay.” He let his eyes drift close again because he was very happy where he was even if Tabitha was being difficult. “Your mama knows we’re friends. So what’s the difference?”

“No, she doesn’t.” Tabitha laughed in disbelief.

“She’s gotta know you’ve been hanging round me for years. What does she think you’re doing at the rec center every day after school?”

“My homework.”

“Well, I suppose that ain’t a lie.” He rolled on his side and pressed his lips against the curve of her knee that was exposed where her skirt had ridden up. “I can think of some homework you can work on.”

Tabitha shoved his head in response, and he landed on the mat with a grunt. He would have complained if it didn’t make Tabitha giggle. He started laughing with her.

“You’re bad on my delicate male ego.”

Tabitha laughed harder. “You got the biggest ego in this whole dang town.”

“Take that back, little girl.” Wyatt grabbed her foot when she moved to stand up. She screeched and shook her leg, but he wasn’t letting go. He jerked her toward him, forcing her skirt to ride up, and then used his weight to pin her to the mat. “Say sorry, or I’m gonna turn into the big, bad wolf.”

“As if.” Tabitha was still laughing hysterically and didn’t even fight his hold on her wrists as he held her down. “You’re not bad wolf material.”

“Who lied to you?” Wyatt snorted as he studied her cheeks, flushed pink with her mirth, and the way the strawberry lip gloss she always used made her lips look very kissable. “You make me feel very bad. Kiss me.”

“No.”

Wyatt leaned down despite the rejection, and Tabitha turned her head petulantly, still giggling.

He growled in genuine disappointment. “One of these days I’m gonna do it, and I ain’t even gonna give you the courtesy of asking first.”

“Let me up, Wy. You’re getting yourself into trouble again.” Tabitha pulled halfheartedly at his hold on her wrists. “I have to get home.”

Wyatt huffed and rolled off her because he was getting himself into trouble. Tabitha got to her feet and brushed out her skirt that was long and had little pink flowers on it. Her white blouse was conservative, but Wyatt could still see the outline of her bra under it as she worked on straightening it.

He laced his hands behind his head once more as he watched her. “You really are hard on my ego.”

“You’re okay.” Tabitha gave him a shy smile. “You can follow me halfway home if you want.”

“All right then.” Wyatt was pleased to hear it, because he hated the idea of her riding all that way alone in the dark. He rolled back and sprang to his feet. “That sounds like a fair deal.”

Tabitha laughed again.

Wyatt frowned. “What?”

She shook her head, still smiling in that warm way she did when something pleased her so much she couldn’t hide it. “Nothing.”

“No, tell me,” he prodded, because he loved those particular smiles from Tabitha, and he wanted to know what he did to cause it.

“It’s just—” she started, looking at him under her lashes when she lowered her eyes shyly. “You’re one of the good guys. I don’t see how you can deny it.”

“Great.” Wyatt rolled his shoulders that were sore from wrestling. “Girls only like the bad guys.”

“Not all girls.” Tabitha gave him another smile. “Thank God you won’t kiss me without permission. We’d both be in big trouble if you did.”

Wyatt could only gape at her.

Tabitha turned to leave without another word, sort of like Clay usually did.

“I need to get my stuff out of the locker room,” he said distantly.

“I’ll wait for you.”

Wyatt nodded as he followed her down the hallway. His mind was still on what Tabitha had admitted, probably without realizing she’d done it. Her cheeks were still flushed, and it was obvious their little wrestling session had left her as flustered as he felt.

He left her standing outside the men’s locker room and quickly went to his locker. Clay was getting dressed in front of the locker next to it, and he frowned when Wyatt tugged his shirt on despite being sweaty.

“You ain’t taking a shower first?”

“No, I’m riding back with Tabitha since it’s dark.” Wyatt sat on the bench and worked on putting on his socks and shoes. “I’ll take a shower at home.”

“I’ll ride with ya.”

Wyatt shook his head and lifted his head to give Clay a pointed look. “Nah, I got this. I’m gonna make it my year. Watch me.”

“Whatever, Conner.” Clay rolled his eyes and turned back to his locker. “I don’t see how you’re gonna manage that when she’s been shooting you down since seventh grade.”

“No, I got a plan,” Wyatt told him confidently.

“What’s that?”

He lifted his head and gave his best friend a dark smile. “I’m gonna be the big bad wolf.”

“Yeah, right.” Clay laughed at the notion, clearly unconcerned for Tabitha’s virtue. “Lemme know how that works out for you. Make sure to say please and thank you first.”

Tabitha would never tell him, but she liked when Wyatt followed her home. She enjoyed his company, and it never stopped being a novelty how safe he made her feel. Being with him was like a reprieve from real life, where she was forced to be on guard all the time.

Becoming a teenager made everything about her life so much more complicated. She wished she could go back to being hungry. It was preferable over the nervous feeling that settled in her stomach every time she was home. Brett’s friends said the most awful things to her, and her mother’s friends weren’t much better. There were always people at her house, drinking and partying. Her mother was doing better now that she had a job, but the weekends were always a weakness for her.

This Friday was payday at John’s butcher shop, where her mom had been working for the past five months.

Tabitha wasn’t looking forward to it. Her uncles would come over with their friends and make a bad situation worse. None of them seemed to mind partying with Brett’s friends even though Brett was only sixteen. They would all drink and do God knew what else until they passed out in the early-morning hours. The house was always loud and smoky, and all Tabitha could do to avoid it was lock herself in her room and wait for all of them to pass out. The next morning she would trip over the sleeping bodies trying to get out the door and to the rec center, where Wyatt was waiting to make her feel safe again, even if he didn’t realize he was doing it.

Against her better judgment, Tabitha had started believing in heroes again.

“Here is good.” Tabitha hopped off her bike at the intersection between the main road and the one that led down the street to her house. “I’ll just ride the rest of the way by myself.”

“I don’t care what your house looks like, Tab,” Wyatt said as he rode up next to her and put his foot down. He leaned his arms against his handlebars. “I remember when we first drove out to the trailer park to get Clay’s stuff. He wouldn’t even let me go in and help him gather it all up. Like it mattered to me. Best buddies don’t give a shit ’bout things like that.”

Tabitha laughed and let her bike fall into the dirt. She pulled her backpack off and dropped it on top of it because she wanted a few more minutes with him. “I know. It’s not that. I promise.”

“It’s still a pretty long ride back to your house.” Wyatt gave her a stern look. “Lemme go with you.”

She shook her head and gave him a smile. “Nope.”

Wyatt stepped off his bike and let it fall next to hers despite the fact that it was new and had a perfectly good kickstand. Then he stepped into her personal space, making her feel even shorter than usual, because he was so very tall now. She instinctively rubbed her scarred palm, because being so near him made her feel breathless.

“Why are you always doing that?” Wyatt reached down and grabbed her hand like he had in the gym. “Whenever I get close, you start rubbing your hands, and I noticed you don’t do it when Clay or others are next to you. Is there something ’bout these scars that make you think of me?”

Tabitha looked away rather than pull her hand out of his as she internally cursed his cop breeding that had him noticing everything. Very little slipped past Wyatt, and she didn’t know if it was genetic or something the Conners were trained with since birth. He could break down walls and sniff out weaknesses better than anyone she’d ever met.

He rubbed his thumb against her palm, making her shiver in response. He was quiet for a long moment before he asked, “Are they somehow my fault? I know you got them the same time as my fight with Clay and—”

“They’re not your fault,” she assured him before he could finish the thought, because she didn’t want to think about that fight. “Y’all are friends now, and I’m happy for it.”

“I had to bully Clay into being my friend,” Wyatt reminded her, giving her a long, hard look as he squeezed her hand. “And even now he forgets half the time, but I ain’t gonna give up on him, even on the days when he wants me to.”

“Yeah, well, it’s hard for Clay to trust people. He’s always waiting for them to betray him.”

“Sort of like someone else I know.” Wyatt used his hold on her hand to pull her closer. “I’m not going away, Tabitha, and I’m not giving up.”

“Wyatt—” she started, wanting to tell him all the reasons why he shouldn’t be wasting his time on her. Then he laced his other hand through the hair at her nape and her breath caught with the collision of nerves and excitement. “Don’t—”

“Tell me you don’t like me.” Wyatt lips were a breath away from hers, his light eyes bright in the moonlight as he studied her intently. “Look me in the face and tell me you don’t think ’bout me at night.”

Tabitha opened her mouth, but the words were trapped in her throat. She did think about him, all the time, and lying to that extreme was going to be one of the hardest things she’d ever done. She was still fighting the horrible war with herself when Wyatt used the hold he had on her neck to pull her closer. Then he kissed her, with her mouth still parted in an attempt to tell a lie that was so far opposed to what both her heart and soul were crying out for that it felt like a betrayal to even think about saying it.

The feel of his lips against hers was electric. The jolt of it reminded her of the time she shocked herself trying to plug the vacuum cleaner into the broken socket in her mother’s bedroom. She actually shuddered from the sensation. It was so startling, her hands went to Wyatt’s shoulders for support, but he misunderstood the action as one of trying to shove him away. Usually that would’ve had him backing up, but this time he just tightened his hold on her neck.

He pushed his tongue past her lips without permission, but Tabitha didn’t complain.

In that moment it felt like nothing in the world existed but the two of them. It was as if time came to a standstill, and the world stopped spinning, and all she had was Wyatt. His lips were hot on hers, and his tongue was brushing against her tongue, and she wanted so much more of all it she stood on her toes to get closer. She put her arms around his neck and opened her mouth farther in invitation because it felt so amazingly good she had to ask for more.

It wasn’t until she swallowed Wyatt’s low groan and felt his hand sneak around her back that Tabitha realized she was kissing him back. She didn’t have time to stop and wonder if she was doing it right, or if he was doing it right, because he forced her body tightly against his, and it shut down her brain completely. She was wrapped up in him, warm and safe and burning up from the strange buzz a simple kiss was able to create. Her fingers were in his hair, and she held on for fear he would pull away and rob her of the amazing sensations she was willingly drowning herself in.

Her heart was thumping so hard she could hear it echoing in her ears. Her breathing was sharp and erratic when they parted for one brief second, only to come together harder and needier when Wyatt pushed his lips against hers again as if he needed it as desperately as she did.

She was just having the thought of pulling him down onto the dirt right there on the edge of the street, because her legs didn’t want to hold her up, and every second they kissed had her strangely hungry to feel more of him.

Then the loud, jarring sound of a horn blaring had both of them jumping from the shock of falling back into reality without warning.

“Slut!”

Wyatt stiffened at the same time Tabitha’s stomach dropped with the icy surge of fear that spiraled through her system. The abrupt change from joy to fear was so startling she nearly blacked out from it.

She turned around, looking at Vaughn leaning out his window. His eyes were narrowed in malicious fury. “Now you’re giving it up when you’ve been locking your door on me for the past year?”

Wyatt turned around, and Tabitha could feel that his entire body was tight in fury. “What did you just say to her?” he growled in a voice that was so dangerous it startled her.

“Wyatt, don’t!” she said quickly and grabbed at his arm when he made a move toward the car. “Please.”

“Shit, it’s the sheriff’s kid!” she heard Brett say in the seat next to Vaughn before he held up his hands and gave her a look of complete disbelief out the front windshield.

Wyatt jerked his arm out of her hold and walked over to the car. He slammed his fist against the hood so hard they all jumped when the metal dented. “Call her a slut again. I dare you.”

“Drive!” Brett barked when Wyatt made a move toward the open window.

Vaughn slammed on the gas so hard, Tabitha screamed because they nearly ran Wyatt over. If he didn’t have such quick reflexes, he would’ve gotten hurt for sure. As it was, he jumped away and shouted, “Yeah, you better drive!”

“Oh my God,” Tabitha whispered as she stood there hyperventilating and choking on the dust from skidding tires. “This is bad.”

Wyatt turned on her with a wild, crazed look on his face. “Has that asshole been harassing you? Has he hurt you?”

She shook her frantically. “No.”

Wyatt narrowed his eyes. “Tab—”

“He hasn’t, I swear,” she said quickly before she went to her bike. Her hands were shaking as she picked up her backpack and put it on. “I have to go home. He’s gonna tell my mama and—”

“You are not going home.”

“What?” Tabitha turned back to him when she heard the hard determination in his voice. “I have to. I have to stop Brett from saying something.”

“Heck, no.” Wyatt’s shoulders were still tight in fury, his light eyes blazing. “You are coming home with me. We’re gonna sit down and talk with my dad, and you’re gonna tell him everything that goes on in that house.”

“Are you insane?” A crazed sort of laughter burst out of her. “The state would pick me up for sure.”

“That’s the thing, Tab. The state isn’t the enemy,” Wyatt said slowly. “They’re there to protect you. I know you’re not safe there, and I’m not gonna—”

“No,” Tabitha said, this time more firmly. “I am not bouncing around foster homes like Clay. My mama’s doing good and—”

“She ain’t doing that good. I saw her walking into Carl’s bar the other day.”

“That’s only on weekends!” Tabitha’s voice was shrill with fear. “She has a job now and—”

“Tabitha,” Wyatt started again, this time more slowly as he took a deep breath. “If you got guys there you have to lock your door to keep out, that’s not good. What’s to stop them from—”

“I’m not going home with you,” Tabitha said just as forcefully. “And if you tell your daddy, I will never speak to you again.”

Wyatt folded his arms over his chest as he considered her sharply. Then he shrugged. “That may be a sacrifice I’m willing to make. ’Cause I surely ain’t gonna sit back and let something terrible happen to you. I’d rather you hate me.”

“Then fine.” Tabitha got on her bike before she could change her mind. “I can’t stop you, but I will deny all of it. I ain’t letting the state ruin my mama.”

Wyatt called out to her when she started riding away. “At least let me hang out until he leaves. Please. I won’t cause trouble.”

“No. I can take care of myself.” She blinked past the tears as she pedaled harder. She had to shout to make sure he heard her. “Just stay away from me!”

She turned back, making sure Wyatt wasn’t following her, and saw him standing where she’d left him with his arms folded over his chest. In that moment, he looked like his daddy, tall and imposing, expecting the world to bow to his will with just a look of disappointment.

Dear God, what had she been thinking?

Chapter Thirteen

Wyatt watched Tabitha ride off, and everything in him demanded he go after her. Yet he stood rooted to the spot instead. He knew if he did chase her down, he’d have to drag her kicking and screaming to his father, and that would make the effort pointless. She wouldn’t talk about what went on in that beaten-down house next to the trailer park, and he couldn’t make her.

Not for the first time, he thought of saying something to his father without Tabitha’s permission, to voice his suspicions that her brother hurt her, because sometimes she had bruises Wyatt was almost certain were caused by abuse. He didn’t spend all his spare time fighting Clay for nothing. He knew what marks caused by fists looked like.

But then what?

If his father couldn’t find anything to take her out of the house and she wasn’t willing to say anything, that would just make things worse for her. He’d heard his father bitch enough times about situations like that to know how tied a cop’s hands could be if a victim wasn’t willing to cooperate.

You couldn’t save people who didn’t want to be saved. His father said it all the time, and for the first time Wyatt truly understood his frustration.

He stood there for a long time after Tabitha disappeared. The fear for her was so all-encompassing, he was choking on it, and the horror of being powerless was nearly killing him.

But he didn’t do anything.

Finally he got on his bike and rode back home, deciding to talk with Clay instead of his father. Clay knew more about Tabitha’s situation than he let on. Wyatt had known it for years, but when he asked, Clay would just give him a hard look and keep silent. Not this time. He was going to make his best friend talk if he had to beat him to get it out.

Tabitha had to stop and look at Vaughn’s car in the driveway. The fear made her vision spotted, but she knew she had to go into the house even if a part of her wanted to run back and take Wyatt up on his offer rather than deal with what she was about to face.

Her mother wasn’t home yet. That was both a blessing and a curse.

In the end, the decision was made for her when Brett jerked open the front door and demanded, “Get in this house right now, brat.”

Tabitha actually turned and looked down the road, thinking of Wyatt again. Everything in her wanted to flee.

As if reading her thoughts, Brett yelled, “Now!”

With her heart still beating hard, Tabitha hiked her backpack higher up on her shoulders and walked toward the steps of the house. Her body was tense with adrenaline, the way she imagined warriors were before battle.

A part of her tried to remember everything about this feeling, like marching to her own execution, so that in case she survived, she could write about it later. The front step creaked under her sneakers. She had the thought of it breaking and a black hole opening up beneath it.

Down the rabbit hole, just like in Alice in Wonderland.

Maybe there was another Garnet down there where superheroes were real. An alternate reality. What if there were some sort of experiment that went horribly wrong, and the water supply was poisoned, but only on the nice side of town where the good guys lived? When bad things happened to people like that, they always seemed to come out on top.

Like Wyatt.

And Clay.

And Jules Conner.

What if that poisoned water made them more than human? What sorts of superpowers would they have? Would they fly? No, Tabitha couldn’t see any of them flying, but Clay would have to be superstrong, because he worked so hard at it. Tabitha would have to make sure Clay had the gift of invisibility too, because there were so many times when she knew he wanted people to stop seeing him.

Jules was so smart and so quick when she was in her karate classes. What if it made her really fast? What if her brain worked better than others? That’d be interesting, but that superpower would drive Wyatt crazy. His sister was already a know-it-all.

Tabitha would have to give Wyatt the best superpower of all to make it up to him. Tabitha knew it instinctively; she wanted him to be the quickest and the strongest, because he was her hero, even if she deflected him at every turn.

What if that water didn’t just make him strong like Clay and fast like Jules, but somehow made him invincible? Nothing could hurt him. He would be safe forever.

By the time Tabitha made it to the door, she was already lost in her wonder world. The weird defense mechanism kicked in the second she knew she was in a situation beyond her ability to mentally cope with.

When Brett grabbed her arm and tugged her past the entryway, she was half expecting Wyatt to burst in and rescue her, but of course, he didn’t. Heroes weren’t perfect. She’d learned that a long time ago, and they all had weaknesses. What sort of weakness could a man with superstrength and speed who was built like solid steel possibly have?

The door slammed. Brett pushed her into the living room so hard she tripped and hit her head on the sharp corner of the coffee table. The pain was white-hot, and she immediately put her hand to the injury. She pulled it away in shock when she felt the warm, sticky blood seep through her fingers.

She looked at the bright red against her scarred palm.

What if she was his weakness? His kryptonite? What if somehow his destiny was tied to a woman who was never more than ordinary and always ended up on her knees bleeding for the villains? What if she was one of the villains? But not by choice; she was just related to them.

“Fuck, Tab!” Brett cursed. “You’re the clumsiest chick in this whole dang town. It’s like you’re not even here most of the time. Now Mama’s gonna think it was my fault!”

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, still caught up in her strange world.

“Have you been talking to Conner ’bout us? The sheriff’s been sniffing round here more than usual. Is it ’cause of your big mouth?”

She shook her head as she got to her knees, looking at the fresh stain of blood in the carpet. She would have to clean it before her mother got home.

“Are you fucking him?”

“No.” She looked up at him, forcing her head to clear. “He just rode me home.”

“Yeah, I bet he rode you home. We saw you making out with him.” Vaughn took a long drag off his cigarette as he looked down at her from his seat on the couch. “I know you’re giving it up.”

“I’m not,” Tabitha said, this time more forcefully because giving Vaughn even an inkling of the idea that she was interested in that sort of thing was just asking for problems. “It ain’t like that. He was just being nice.”

“Bullshit.” Vaughn snorted, his voice filled with malicious glee. “You like letting that big, stupid asshole fuck you?”

“No!” Tabitha got to her feet, feeling the violence threatening. “I need to wash up.”

She dropped her backpack and ran into the bathroom. Luckily they let her go. Her hands were shaking as she locked the door and then turned on the faucet. She looked at herself in the mirror, seeing the blood running down into her ear. She leaned in closer, studying the cut, trying to determine if it needed stitches. Not that it mattered. She’d never force her mother to pay for Dr. Philips when they didn’t have insurance.

She poked at it, feeling strangely detached from the throbbing as she listened to the voices in the other room.

“She’s giving it up to the sheriff’s kid. I’ll betcha a hundred bucks.”

“Fuck.” Brett cursed. “My mama is gonna freak out.”

“She probably told him we’ve been dealing.”

“You think?”

“Hell, yes. The sheriff’s been riding our asses for weeks now. He’s stopped us four times since school started,” Vaughn said with a bitter laugh. “You better figure out a way to shut her up, or I’m gonna do it for you.”

“I got it,” Brett said defensively. “She’s my sister.”

Tabitha grabbed toilet paper and held it to her head, willing the bleeding to stop. Her heart was still beating the hell out of her ribs, and she took slow, even breaths to try to still her panic. She tossed the toilet paper in the toilet when it became soaked with blood and unrolled more. She pressed harder, desperate to have this problem solved so she could deal with the larger issue.

When the doorknob started to jiggle, tears filled her eyes as she reduced herself to begging. “Please just leave me alone. I didn’t say anything to him about the drugs.”

“Open the door, Tab.”

“No,” she whispered as she tears rolled down her cheeks. “Just gimme a little bit.”

“We need to talk.”

She scrunched up her eyes, trying to hide from her reality as her mind slipped back to another reality, but this one wasn’t much improved. She imagined a world crumbling under the rule of an evil overlord. There would be a battle between the light and darkness. She felt trapped in the middle, the ultimate Achilles’ heel to the one person who was supposed to save them all from a horrible reality ruled by greed and indulgence.

What if somehow their souls were linked and whenever they connected it drained Wyatt’s power a little more until he was almost human? Every touch, every time she ran her fingers through his silky hair, it just dragged him down into the darkness until it consumed both of them.

Wouldn’t it be tragic for the hero to be in love with the one girl who could ruin him? What if one kiss was the end of the world? One sweet indulgence, a ray of light in her darkness, and all it did was bring on the ruin.

That was what it felt like as the scrap of metal told her Brett was using a knife to unlock the bathroom door. She screeched when it burst open.

“I didn’t tell him,” she chanted in blind panic. “I didn’t!”

“Come here.”

Brett stormed in after her, looking bigger than Wyatt at that moment, even if she knew it wasn’t true. Terrified, she pressed herself back in the small gap in the corner between the wall and the toilet. He grabbed her arm and tried to pull her out from her hiding spot, but she fought him, kicking out, trying to hit him in the balls because that was what Wyatt and Clay told her to aim for. She slashed with her free hand, going for his eyes, another soft spot they had told her about, but she was still trying to stop the bleeding, and eventually she opted to make her body limp and leaden. She slipped out of his grasp and fell into the tiny space next to the toilet, her small frame finally serving well. She kicked every time he got near her.

“I didn’t tell him!” She was screeching it now, kicking with all her might, making him jump back defensively. “Leave me alone!”

“You shut up and stop fighting me, or I’m gonna let Vaughn come in here and do it for me.”

She kicked him again, because she didn’t trust him not to hand her over anyway. “I don’t care ’bout your stupid drugs! I didn’t tell him!”

“Back up, Brett. I’ll get her.”

Tabitha kicked at Brett again, this time getting him between the legs with the heel of her sneaker. He doubled over, groaning in pain just as Vaughn pushed into their small bathroom behind him.

“You kick me like that, and I’ll make sure you pay for it.” Vaughn reached over the side of the toilet, grabbing her arm like a vise and tugging so hard she was afraid he’d pull it right out of the socket. “You’ll feel it for days, you little cunt.”

Tabitha screamed, knowing she should’ve taken Wyatt up on his offer. The foster system was looking pretty good about right now.

Vaughn was going to force her to do something horrible. She just knew it.

After months and months of avoiding Vaughn, now her mother wasn’t home, and there were no superheroes in sight to save her. Usually Brett stopped him before he could do anything, but now he was worried about his drugs and his pocket change, and that made her an easy sacrifice.

She’d done this to herself.

All because of one stupid kiss! Why did she think she could reason with her brother? She really was kryptonite, to herself as much as the rest of the world.

Then the most amazing thing happened; the long grinding sound of her mother’s old truck pulling into the driveway echoed past the cracked window. She opened her mouth to scream, but Brett slammed his hand over her mouth before she could.

“You shut up ’bout this, and I won’t tell her ’bout you and the Conner kid.”

Tabitha’s breathing was heavy. Brett’s hand smelled like cigarettes. She wanted to gag from it, but her eyes remained wide and trained on her brother. She should bite him, but she didn’t. She really didn’t want her mother to find out about Wyatt. That was stress she didn’t need. Brett must have sensed some sort of defeat in her, because he removed his hand, brown eyes meeting brown over the rim of the toilet seat.

“Get him away from me.” Tabitha’s gaze darted to Vaughn, who was still holding her arm. “And keep him away, or I’m telling her, and I don’t care what you say to her ’bout Wyatt.”

“Fine.” Brett’s eyes narrowed. “But if you keep seeing Conner, I’m gonna turn Vaughn loose on you, brat. I ain’t protecting you anymore when all you do to repay me for the effort is talk trash behind my back. Don’t think I won’t do it.”

“I’m not seeing him,” Tabitha reasserted once more. “He was just being nice.”

“Yeah, being nice by shoving his tongue down your throat. Fuck the sheriff’s brat, Tabitha, I dare you,” Vaughn said tauntingly, repeating Wyatt’s words from earlier. “I don’t have a problem with sloppy seconds.”

Tabitha didn’t even know what that meant, and she certainly wasn’t going to ask. Both boys backed up at the sound of car door being opened. Tabitha curled into herself when they quickly rushed into the living room to pretend all was normal. The bathroom door slammed, leaving her alone, and her entire body started shaking in response. She buried her head against her knees and let out one choked sob before she started fighting to keep her crying silent.

She hated being a teenager.

Ever since she’d gotten boobs and hips, the threat of Vaughn had been looming around every corner, and he wasn’t the only one. Lots of her brother’s friends harassed her. The thought occurred to her that maybe she wasn’t as ugly as she once thought she was, and it wasn’t a pleasant realization.

She had to start hiding these things better. She needed baggier clothes. Maybe she should hack off her hair too. Wyatt was always saying how pretty it was. It could be part of the problem. She shakily got to her feet when she heard her mother’s voice from the living room.

She went to the sink and worked at washing herself up. There was blood all over her white blouse. It soaked her hair and was still running down her face and ear. The water turned pink when she tilted her head and put it under the faucet to get it off. She really needed a shower, but she didn’t have a change of clothes in the bathroom.

She jumped at another knock on the door, hitting her head against the faucet. She hissed and cursed under her breath, “Shit.”

“What the heck are you doing in there?” her mother called. “Trying to drown yourself?”

“Sorry, Mama. I need a moment.”

“I got to pee. Been holding it since work.”

Tabitha sighed and turned off the water. She grabbed more toilet paper and held it to her head as she reluctantly opened the door.

Her mother gasped when she saw her. “What the hell happened to you?”

“I tripped.” Tabitha pressed harder on the toilet paper, hoping to soak most of the damning evidence. “It’s nothing.”

“It don’t look like nothing. You’re bleeding like a stuck pig. Look at your shirt.” Her mother frowned and leaned forward to stare at Tabitha’s forehead. “Well, lemme look at it.”

Tabitha removed the toilet paper. Showing off the injury. She studied her mother’s face, seeing her frown in concern.

“Dang it, Tab, I think you need stitches.” Her shoulders slumped in misery. “There goes my paycheck. How do these things always happen to you?”

“I don’t think it’s that bad,” Tabitha argued and took another shuddering breath. “We’ll just put a bandage on it.”

“Sheriff’s been sniffing round here. I think that Powers kid’s been talking to him. Can’t believe you still hang out with that trash.”

“Nah, Clay doesn’t say anything to anyone. You know he’s quiet.”

Her mother wrapped a hand around the back of her neck, tugging Tabitha forward rough enough to make her flinch after the event in the bathroom, but she didn’t notice as she pressed a finger to the tender skin above the wound. “Looks like it’s mostly stopped bleeding. Maybe a bandage will do.”

“Yeah,” Tabitha agreed. “Definitely.”

“You been crying?” her mother asked. “You’re all flushed, and what the heck happened to your arm?”

Tabitha looked at her arm, seeing the red marks left by Vaughn’s vise grip from earlier. “Um,” she stuttered and then choked back the rise of fear when Brett coughed from the living room. “B-Brett tried to catch me before I fell.”

“Yeah, he’s a good brother. Always saving you from yourself. Wish you were more like him. Your head’s in the clouds ninety percent of the time. You’re always tripping over something.” Her mother seemed appeased with that as she let Tabitha go. “Let me pee; then I’ll doctor it myself.”

Tabitha couldn’t help but snort in disbelief as the door closed behind her. She narrowed her eyes as she looked over at Brett and Vaughn sitting on the couch, giving her similar looks of challenge as if daring her to say something.

She started cleaning before her mama got out of the bathroom. She held the tissue to her head and worked on the enormous mess in the living room one-handed. Usually she was good about keeping it clean, but she’d been caught up with the start of school and let it get out of control. They’d had a party here last weekend, and no one had bothered to pick up afterward.

Surprisingly, Brett got up and started helping her.

“Is he sending the state out?” Brett asked her under his breath as he grabbed a pizza box off the counter while Tabitha worked on sweeping the cigarette ashes off the coffee table.

She shuddered at the amount of dirt and grime that landed on the carpet. She needed to clean out this wound on her head with something really antiseptic. The carpet was going to need at least five rounds with the vacuum cleaner, and she still needed to get the blood out of it.

“Can you try and fix the vacuum cleaner?” she asked him rather than answer his question. “It smells like smoke whenever I use it. I think something’s caught in it.”

“Damn it,” Brett growled, catching her hidden hint.

Tabitha wasn’t sure if Wyatt was going to send the state out or not.

Chapter Fourteen

“Wait, I don’t understand what the problem is. What’s wrong with one kiss? Why do y’all think you got to ride out there in the middle of the night?”

Wyatt shrugged at his sister from across the coffee table. “I don’t get it either, but I’m telling you, Tabitha was scared near to death ’bout the two of us getting caught by her brother and that asshole Vaughn.”

“You’re an idiot.” Clay shook his head as he glared at Wyatt from his seat next to Jules. “Brett’s freaking out. I promise you. No one likes a cop in that neck of town. If we do decide to go check on her, I’m going alone.”

“Hell, no, I’m going with you.” Wyatt gestured to himself and gave Clay a hard look. “Do you see a sheriff’s badge on my chest?”

“Yes, I do,” Clay argued. “That’s all anyone sees when they look at you. Why didn’t you just listen to her when she said no the five hundred times before? Why do you have to be so damn stubborn ’bout everything?”

“Oh, I’m stubborn.” Wyatt laughed incredulously. “That really means something coming from you. I told you I was going to make this my year. Now you have an issue with it? What’d you think I meant by that?”

“You say that every year. I didn’t think you’d actually do it.” Clay’s dark eyes narrowed. “Out in the open. At the end of her damn street. That’s ’bout as slick as sandpaper. I can’t believe I’ve got to claim such a dumbass as a best friend.”

“I still don’t understand. What is the actual problem?” Jules cut in reasonably. “Are you afraid her brother is going to do something bad to her because of this? Or Vaughn? You said he threatened her. Do you think he meant it?”

“Yes,” Clay and Wyatt answered together.

“Then we should call Daddy,” Jules announced and pushed back her chair. “He can stop by her house and make sure she’s okay. It’ll be much quicker than Clay riding out in the middle of the night.”

“You can’t call him.” Clay grabbed her wrist before she could stand.

“Why not?” Jules twisted her wrist, breaking his hold. She slapped his hand when he tried to touch her again. “Don’t be grabbing at me. I hit back.”

“You did this.” Clay held up his hands and gave Wyatt a look across the table. “I suggest you stop her if you ever want Tabitha to speak to you again.”

“I ain’t so sure she’s in the wrong.” Wyatt shook his head. “Maybe we should call my dad. I’ve been leaning that way myself since I left.”

“Thank you, Wyatt,” Jules said, still sounding cool and collected. “If you think she’s in danger of being raped—”

Wyatt flinched at the word, feeling the bile rising up in the back of his throat. “Don’t say that, Ju Ju. It makes me feel sick.”

Clay scratched at the back of his neck and took a long breath as if looking for a different solution. “Why don’t we just call her?”

Wyatt and Jules exchanged looks and then agreed in unison. “Okay.”

Clay went to the phone in the kitchen and dialed her number while Wyatt and Jules crowded in close to him so they could hear. The phone rang three times before it was picked up.

“Yeah?”

“Mrs. McMillen.” Clay cleared his voice, obviously trying to get rid of the gruffness that was always there. “Tabitha there?”

“Why?”

“’Cause I wanna talk to her.”

“Nah, she ain’t here.”

“Bullshit.” He growled in annoyance. When Wyatt kicked him, Clay held up his hand, as if to say let me do my thing before he said in a low, demanding voice, “Just let me talk to her.”

“It’s eleven at night. Ain’t the sheriff teaching you manners up in that big Conner house?”

“No, he ain’t. Can I talk to Tab, or do I need to ride my ass up there and get my homework assignment in person?”

“Yeah, you ride up here. See what you find when you get here.”

“You know what? Forget it. I’ll get a lift. Sheriff just got off work.”

“Hell.” She sounded completely exasperated, but after a long pause, she called. “Tabitha! That Powers trash is on the phone.”

Wyatt pushed himself closer to the phone when he heard Tabitha ask in confusion, “What?”

“Said he needs a homework assignment. Like he’s doing real schoolwork.” Tabitha’s mother’s words were slurred as she kept rambling. “Don’t know why you keep hanging round him. Born trash, will always be trash, and now he’s living at the Conner house again ’cause no one can put up with him and—”

“Can I have the phone, Mama?” Tabitha said in an even voice. “He’s trying to get on the wrestling team. He needs good grades for that.”

“Fine. Take it.”

There was a scuffle over the phone before Tabitha spoke uncertainly. “Yes.”

“She’s drunk,” Clay said with a scowl.

“Yes, I know.” Tabitha sighed, sounding tired. “What homework assignment do you need?”

Wyatt yanked the phone out of Clay’s grasp and then slammed his palm into his chest when he tried to grab it back. “Are you okay?” he asked quickly.

“Yes,” Tabitha whispered, as if afraid just Wyatt’s voice on the other end of the line would give her away.

“Are you sure?” Wyatt pressed, because his heart had been racing since he let her leave. “’Cause Clay and I were gonna ride out there and—”

“I think that would be a really bad idea.” Tabitha almost choked on the words. “I heard Mrs. Conway is strict ’bout turning in assignments.”

“I can still call my dad,” Wyatt went on despite the ruse Tabitha was playing about the homework. “If you’re in danger, you need to tell me.”

“No, I think it’ll be fine.”

“She thinks?” Jules cut in. “I don’t like that. Ask more questions.”

“Who was that?” Tabitha asked, a thread of fear sounding in her voice.

“My sister.”

“Oh my God.” Tabitha groaned. “You’re gonna fail, and we just started.”

“Look, she was here when I got home, and she’s nosy as hell. You try keeping stuff from her. She heard me talking to Clay ’bout riding out there and—”

“I have to go now,” Tabitha cut him off.

“You didn’t give me the homework assignment,” Wyatt reminded her, hoping to keep Tabitha on the phone longer.

“Jeez.” Tabitha huffed. “Fine. Let me go get my bag.”

“Can you take the phone with you?”

“No.”

“They don’t have a portable,” Clay clarified before Wyatt could argue. “Let her go.”

Wyatt tapped his foot, holding the phone tighter to his ear while both Clay and Jules suffocated him. When the other line was picked up once more, he was expecting Tabitha, but got Brett McMillen instead.

“I know this is you, Conner.”

Clay jerked the phone out of Wyatt’s hand and said, “That’s what you think.”

“Bullshit, you called for him.”

“Yeah, unlike you, I’m not a lapdog. How’s Vaughn? Still blowing him for pot?”

“Fuck you, Clay.”

“Suck me.”

“This is charming,” Jules whispered in Wyatt’s ear. “No wonder we can’t get him to be civil for the foster system if this is what he came from.”

Clay flipped both of them off and then said, “Can I help you, Brett? Why the fuck are you still on the phone?”

“I wanna know why you’re calling.”

“’Cause I needed the assignment. Some of us do homework.”

“Conner didn’t put you up to it?”

“Is there something I should know? What’s your obsession with him?” Clay countered. “It sounds like you wanna date him.”

“I think you’re full of shit.”

Clay sighed tiredly, doing a very good job of sounding bored. “Whatever. You got to lay off the drugs, man; they’re making you paranoid.”

“Fine,” Brett grumbled, and there was a shuffle over the phone as if he tossed it aside.

A second later Tabitha picked it up. “You have a pen?”

“Sure.” Clay held up a hand to stop Wyatt before he could take the phone back. “Your brother’s a dick.”

“He can still hear you,” Tabitha said flippantly.

Clay gave Wyatt a pointed look and then asked Tabitha, “Why’s he asking ’bout Wyatt?”

“I don’t know.” She sounded tense. “Are you ready to write this down?”

“Yup.” Clay nodded, even though he had already finished his homework for the night.

Tabitha read off the homework assignment for American Literature, the only class she shared with Clay. Then she asked softly, “Is that all?”

“I guess.” Clay looked back at Wyatt, seeming to consider his words before he asked Tabitha, “Am I gonna see you at school tomorrow?”

“I don’t know.”

Wyatt tensed in apprehension and made another swipe for the portable, but Clay jumped back and shoved him away at the same time. “Skipping school already?”

“I’m not feeling good. I think I’m coming down with something.”

“Staying home could cause issues.” Clay sidestepped Wyatt again, swiftly dodging his grab for the phone. He raised his fist threateningly as if to punch him and snapped into the receiver, “You do not want to skip classes when school just started.”

“Maybe.”

“No, not maybe.” Clay spoke in slow, concise words. “Staying home ain’t an option for you. You need to be in school. You’re too smart to ruin your chances at college. Got it?”

Tabitha was quiet for a long moment before she said, “Yeah, I got it.”

“And you’re okay tonight?” Clay asked in a low, concerned voice. “You don’t need a doctor or nothing if you’re feeling ill?”

“I’m fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Clay hung up the phone and set it on the counter. He gave Wyatt a hard glare. “She’s fine.”

“No, she’s not. She said she was ill. Why doesn’t she wanna come to school if she’s fine?” Wyatt practically roared; the blood was rushing to his face from the level of his fear. “There’s something wrong.”

“If she wanted your help, she would’ve asked for it.” Clay pushed him back when Wyatt made another go for the phone, intent on redialing. “We gave her plenty of chances.”

“Like hell!”

“You have to wait, Wyatt. This is life-altering shit we’re dealing with.”

“If her mother’s drunk all the time and her brother’s such a bully, why does she want to stay there?” Jules asked, voicing out loud the same question Wyatt asked himself all the time.

Clay scrubbed a hand over his face and looked away. His body was tense, and he seemed to be battling an inner war with himself before he admitted in a quiet voice, “I know y’all don’t get it, but no one wants to end up with the state. It sucks. Belonging to a fucked-up family is better than being an outsider in a normal one. I’d go back to the trailer park in a minute. It’s better to stay with the place you know. Some of those normal folks only appear that way on the outside. Bad things happen in foster homes too.”

Jules took a step toward him. “Clay—”

“No.” He held up a hand before Jules could hug him in a motherly fashion. “I ain’t looking for your sympathy or your babying. I’m just telling you why Tabitha is the way she is. She knows her mama is fucked-up, and she knows her family’s broke, and she knows her home life ain’t healthy, but it’s all she’s got, and right now she’s not ready to leave, and I think you got to respect that. That’s it.”

There was a deathly silence after Clay’s admission that was the closest he had ever come to explaining his feelings about his mother leaving or his being stuck in the foster system.

“You’re not an outsider here,” Jules finally whispered. “You don’t feel that way, do you?”

He looked away, the discomfort radiating off him in waves.

“Clay,” Jules pressed when he avoided her question.

He looked back to her after a long moment and shrugged. “No, I don’t feel that way here, but y’all ain’t exactly a typical family. Trust me, I’ve been stuck in dozens of normal houses, and this one ain’t even in the running for normal. Your dad keeps weird hours, and you’re home alone most of the time, but instead of fucking around like normal teenagers, you work yourselves to death for stupid things like sports and grades, and when you do finally go to bed, you sit up half the night listening to police radios. What the rest of this town doesn’t know is Conners are ’bout as paranoid and fucked-up as they come, which is probably why I like y’all. Now I’m going to bed.”

Clay turned to leave while Jules and Wyatt stood there gaping after him.

Wyatt stayed up listening to the police scanner, hearing his father’s voice crackle over the radio waves as he communicated with the deputies and dealt with all the mundane occurrences that went on in Garnet at night. Two cars got tickets for speeding. A third got pulled over and ended up with a DUI. Someone broke their foot getting out of the shower. A domestic disturbance at two in the morning had Wyatt sitting up in bed, but when he heard the address, he knew it wasn’t Tabitha’s house.

He was up when his father got home at four.

Wyatt’s hands were laced behind his head when the door cracked open, sending a sliver of light into the dark room.

“Hey, Dad,” he said rather than feign sleep like he usually did.

His father walked in, still wearing his uniform. “How come you’re still up?”

“Just thinking.”

He sat on the edge of Wyatt’s bed. “Whatcha thinking ’bout?”

“Just stuff.”

“Your sister okay?”

“Yup,” Wyatt said with a weak smile. “Jules is better than most.”

“Clay all right?”

“I guess so.” Wyatt pushed the covers back and sat up. He ran a hand through his hair, pushing it away from his sweaty forehead because the nerves still had him anxious. “Why can’t he live here all the time? Why do we have keep forcing him into these places he hates?”

“Well, Wy.” His father sighed tiredly. “We’re okay in a pinch, but I don’t think the state wants him here full-time.”

“Why not?”

“’Cause I ain’t got a wife or a normal job, and there’s probably better places for a kid who ain’t never had a stable home life.”

“I think that’s bullshit.”

“Maybe,” his father said with a laugh. “Is that what’s got you counting sheep at four in the morning?”

“Do you get tired of your job?” Wyatt asked him curiously. “Tired of dealing with all the stuff you can’t fix?”

His father considered the question for a long time before he nodded. “Yeah, I get tired of it, but I reckon someone’s got to do it. Might as well be me. Besides, there are good days. It ain’t all hopeless.”

“Just most of the time,” Wyatt said, knowing the answer without hearing it.

“You know, Wyatt, you don’t have to be a deputy right out of school like I was,” he said in concern. “Whatever you wanna do, I support you. If you think this job’s not for you—”

“It’s not that.” Wyatt cut him off before he could waste his breath. “It’s just, I don’t always know what the right answers are. It’s supposed to be easy, right? This is the law. This ain’t. You break it, and that’s it. You go to jail, but sometimes the rules don’t work the way they’re supposed to.”

“Are you in trouble?”

“No,” Wyatt said quickly. “I’m just thinking ’bout things.”

“Well, stop it.” His father reached over and pushed his head lightly. “Turn it off for a while and get some sleep. You got school in a few hours.”

Wyatt fell back against the bed and went back to staring at the ceiling as his father stood. He was at the door before Wyatt asked, “How’d you know you loved our mom?”

In the ray of light, Wyatt could see the pain flash over his face as he answered in a soft, endearing voice. “To be honest, Wyatt, I can’t really remember a time when I didn’t love her.”

Wyatt sighed, understanding completely, and it scared him to death.

“Would you undo it?” he asked curiously. “I mean, I know you got to say all the crap ’bout getting us out of the deal and everything, but if you take all that out of it, would you still love her, knowing you were gonna spend most of your life hurting over it?”

“Yeah.” He nodded without hesitation. “Without a doubt.”

“Why?”

“’Cause it was just that great.” His father grabbed the door handle and stepped out of the room. “Now try to get some sleep.

Chapter Fifteen

“What the heck happened to you?”

Tabitha pulled her hair over the bandage over her forehead and peeked out at Terry from beneath the red strands when he sat down next to her on the bus. “Nothing.”

“You are very accident prone.” Terry dropped his bag down on the floor between them. “What’s Conner got to say ’bout that?”

“Why?” Tabitha asked defensively.

“I’m just saying, girls as accident prone as you tend to have a story to tell.”

“My mama says my head’s up in the clouds too much. It makes me clumsy.”

“Is that it?”

“Yup.”

Terry dropped his head back against the seat, and then let it loll to the side to study her. “You look like hell today.”

“Thanks,” Tabitha said drily. “I feel like hell.”

“You wanna talk ’bout it?”

“You wanna tell me why your mama sold your car?” Tabitha countered.

“Touché.” Terry laughed. “So let’s talk ’bout something else. You make your move with Conner yet?”

“Let’s talk about anything but that.”

Terry raised his eyebrows knowingly. “Little girl, you are a mess.”

Tabitha closed her eyes tiredly and let her head drop back against the seat like Terry’s. She was quiet for a long time before she turned on her side, tucking her hands underneath her cheek and asked, “Do you think I’m pretty?”

“You don’t think Conner’s been hounding you for nothing, do you?” Terry grinned. “Yeah, you’re pretty. Very pretty. You’re one of those late bloomers who just showed up great looking out of the blue. Guess Conner’s smarter than most.”

“I was thinking ’bout cutting my hair,” Tabitha mused. “Short.”

“God, why?” Terry winced.

She shrugged. “Maybe it’d make me less pretty.”

Terry paused at that before his gaze flicked over her, taking in her jeans and Brett’s large flannel shirt she’d put on over her T-shirt. “Did something happen to you, Tabitha?”

“No,” she lied as she closed her eyes, feeling the tears threatening because for the first time since she’d left Wyatt behind yesterday, she could let her guard down. “I like being around you, Terry. You make feel safe, and I dunno why. You’re different, but it’s a good different.”

“Sweetheart.” Terry reached out, cupping her cheek, and it said a lot about him that she didn’t flinch away from the affection. “What happened?”

She didn’t know why she did it, but she crumpled into Terry Dower like he was her only friend in the world, which at the moment felt true, because she couldn’t talk to Wyatt or Clay without making things worse than they already were.

“I’m all alone,” she squeaked, crying silently in a way she’d learned a long time ago. “What am I going to do? I can’t talk to him anymore. He’ll know what happened after he left, and he’ll think I’m stupid because I am stupid and—”

“Okay, let’s not talk ’bout him.” Terry rubbed her back, pulling her tighter against him as he scooted down in the seat, hiding them from prying eyes. “Let’s talk ’bout me instead. You can tell me what happened, and I won’t think you’re stupid.”

Tabitha blinked up at him through her tears. “You won’t?”

Terry shook his head. “No, I promise.”

She believed him, so she told him everything. About her first amazing kiss with Wyatt, and then Brett and Vaughn showing up and ruining everything. She told him what happened in the bathroom. She told him about Clay’s call, and her brother questioning her relentlessly into the night after their mother passed out. Brett’s paranoia was spiked by whatever drugs he was taking, and she hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep.

It all spilled out of her in hushed, terrified whispers between broken sobs, and on some level she knew it was good to talk about it, but it was draining when she was already incredibly tired. The two of them were scrunched so low in the seat the other kids on the bus probably thought they were doing something indecent, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care.

When the bus stopped in front of the school, Tabitha looked at Terry with wide eyes and asked again, “Do you think it’ll stop if I cut my hair?”

Terry winced. “I don’t think that’s the best solution.”

“I don’t wanna go to class.” Her voice cracked from the tears and exhaustion. “I wanted to stay home, but Clay said if I didn’t come—”

“How ’bout we skip school today?” Terry suggested. “Just the two of us? You can come back to my place. My parents are working. My brothers might come home, but they ain’t gonna say nothing ’bout you taking a nap in my bed, okay?”

“I don’t want you to get into trouble,” Tabitha whispered.

“If my parents knew I was skipping school to get a girl in my bed, they’d be the happiest two folks in Garnet, I promise you.”

For some reason, the way Terry said it didn’t make it seem like a threat. It sounded sort of funny, and she let out a soft giggle. “If you say so.”

“I don’t know what ya’ll are doing back there,” the bus driver called. “But we’ve arrived in case you ain’t noticed.”

“Okay, come on.” Terry grabbed both their bags, putting one over each shoulder, and stood.

Tabitha pulled her hair over her forehead and kept her head down as she let Terry lead her down the aisle of the bus. Her hand was in his, and it help to dispel some of the tension.

When she stepped off the bus into the sunshine, it was incredibly jarring after a night with no sleep. A part of her brain thought it should still be night. She blinked past it, feeling disoriented. She wiped at her face with her free hand and tried to pull herself together long enough to figure out how they were going to cut school.

“I don’t know how to do this,” she admitted with a wince. “How are we gonna manage cutting school?”

“I might’ve lied when I said it was going to be just the two of us. I’m gonna have to grab a ride. This no-car shit sucks.”

“Who’ll give us a ride? They’ll tell on us.”

“Ah, no.” Terry laughed. “Our secret will be safe. I’ve cut school with him plenty of times.”

“Tabitha!”

“Oh my God.” Tabitha turned into Terry when she heard Wyatt’s voice echo across the parking lot. She hid her face in his chest and whispered, “Does he have his sister with him?”

“If I say yes, are you going to freak out?”

She clutched at his shirt tighter. “Yes.”

“Right.” Terry lifted his arm, calling out, “Conner! Hey, buddy, why don’t you lose your better half?”

As embarrassing as it was, on the second week of school Tabitha stood there on the sidewalk leading to the high school shaking with exhaustion, face swollen from crying, trying to hide from life in Terry’s T-shirt.

“Yeah, he’s not having a great time losing her. They really are the dynamic duo, aren’t they?” Terry mused.

Tabitha giggled again, which seemed insane as everything else that was happening around her. “Is she gone?”

“She’s going to the school with Powers. She doesn’t look happy ’bout it.”

“Why does she care what happens to me?” Tabitha huffed.

“You know it’s built into their genetics to nose into stuff like that. Twenty bucks says she ends up being sheriff instead of Wyatt.”

“She was right there listening last night. I could die of embarrassment. Wyatt probably told her everything.” Tabitha groaned. “What a horrible side effect to liking a guy with a twin.”

“That’s just one of many problems you got to deal with when it comes to Conner. You pick ’em better than I do, and that’s saying something.” Terry wrapped one arm around Tabitha and then reached out with the other. She could feel his palm land against something hard and unforgiving. “Whoa, there, Romeo. Don’t come stomping over here like you’re gonna end my world. I’m your friend. Probably the best friend you got in this whole dang school. You just don’t know it yet.”

“Tabitha.” Wyatt’s voice cracked on her name, making it come out more like a croak of fear. “What is going on?”

Wyatt touched her shoulder, and she flinched. What if this was one of the days Brett came to school? She doubted it since he was up all night long questioning her, but someone could say something to him.

“What the hell?” Wyatt asked again. “What is wrong with her? What happened?”

“Here’s what’re gonna do. Tabitha and me are ditching—”

“Like hell.” Wyatt cut him off. “Look, Dower, I dunno who you think you are, but if you think I’m gonna let you take my girl—”

Tabitha stiffened as a low sound of fear escaped her. She turned her head on Terry’s chest to make sure no one heard Wyatt. They were alone on the sidewalk, which was a small blessing. There were other students mulling around, but they were out of earshot.

“Here’s a concept, Conner; maybe it isn’t always about you,” Terry said slowly. “I’m taking her to my house for a nap because she hasn’t had any sleep.”

“Why hasn’t she had any sleep?” Wyatt barked back, sounding like a cop asking questions. “Why is she crying? And why can’t I touch her?”

“We’re not leaving with you,” Terry went on as if he hadn’t just heard the rapid-fire questioning. “But if you wanna show up at my house at some point, I’m game to that.”

“You are leaving with me,” Wyatt countered. “If she’s going, I am too. I’m not letting you take her alone to your house. I know your parents work all day. No fucking way.”

“We’re trying to keep things on the down low. Dating you ain’t real great for her health. Get it?”

“Then you better figure out a way to be slick ’bout it,” Wyatt said firmly. “I’m going.”

“Oh Christ,” Terry groaned, and Tabitha could feel his head fall back as if he were looking to the heavens for help. “Fine. I got to find my friend. He’s probably already inside. You wait here; I’m taking Tabitha with me.”

“Fuck off!” Wyatt growled in a low, dangerous voice. “No, this is bullshit. I dunno why she’s standing there crawling all over you, but—”

“I’m gay,” Terry snapped in a low voice filled with frustration. “I’m totally fucking gay, Conner. I’m not taking your girl from you. She is not my type. So can you tone down the macho bullshit about five hundred degrees?”

It was such a startling, impassioned confession everything else in Tabitha’s mind was pushed to the wayside. She looked up at Terry in shock. “Is that true?”

“Yeah, that’s why my parents sold my car.” Terry looked away, a dark blush staining his cheeks. “They caught me.”

Tabitha put a hand to her mouth in horror and mumbled against her fingers, “Was it terrible?”

“Yes,” Terry said with a bitter laugh. “It’s still terrible.”

“I’m so sorry.” She hugged him again and placed her face back against his chest. “So very sorry.”

“I think I just killed your boyfriend,” Terry said uncertainly.

Tabitha remembered Wyatt again and turned around, finding him standing there looking at the two of them with eyebrows raised and his jaw hanging slack. He had dark circles under his eyes and looked like he had about as much sleep as Tabitha had.

She couldn’t help but feel guilty about it as Wyatt shook his head, obviously fighting with his exhaustion as he said, “Wait, what?”

“Holy shit.” Terry let out a pained laugh and then in slow, concise words repeated again, “I am gay.”

Wyatt just gaped at him again before he found his voice again, sounding completely mystified. “Why?”

“Uh…” Terry paused, totally flabbergasted. “Because I am. Is that an issue for you? Would you rather me be after your girl?”

“No.” Wyatt seemed to muse over it for a second more. “I just don’t—” He shook his head, clearly still searching for the right words. “Okay, Dower, whatever. I guess that’s your choice, but I don’t get it. You don’t like girls at all?”

“I like them as friends. I like this girl.” Terry squeezed her tighter. “I just don’t wanna make out with them. That’s as repulsive as it can get to me.”

“Wow.” Wyatt nodded, still looking amazed. “Jules would love you. She’s got this whole thing ’bout liberation and—”

“Can we go find my friend now? Meet us in the back of the student parking lot.”

“Right. I guess that makes sense.” Wyatt nodded, still sounding mystified as he hiked his backpack up on his shoulder. Then he glanced at Tabitha in concern. “What happened to your head?”

Tabitha placed a hand over the bandage. “I tripped.”

“Really?” Wyatt asked in disbelief. “Tab—”

“We’re running out of time.” Terry used his hold on Tabitha to pull her away. “Meet us in the back in ten minutes.”

It turned out Terry’s friend with the car was Hal Parker, the biggest, meanest linebacker on the football team, which was saying something, because Wyatt was on the team. Hal didn’t look thrilled about giving them a ride. He kept glaring at the two of them.

When they were to the back door of the school, he stopped, his gaze resting on Terry’s arm casually draped over Tabitha’s shoulder. “You two dating now?”

“Stop,” Terry said tiredly.

“I was just wondering what y’all are planning to do when you get back to the house. Seeing how I’m risking my spot on the team to get you there.”

“We’re gonna fuck.”

Tabitha stiffened, turning to look at Terry with wide eyes.

“Yeah, well, then you can get your own ride back,” Hal barked before Tabitha could find her voice.

“I would,” Terry said, his voice as tense as Hal’s, “but I lost my car. Whose fault is that?”

“Oh!” Tabitha gasped, understanding the hostility now. She looked to Hal in surprise, because no one would’ve guessed that in a million years. With Terry, yes, but Hal Parker. “No way. It was him?”

Hal’s gaze darted back to Terry’s, wild and crazed. “You told her?”

“She’s an artist,” Terry said as if it explained everything.

Hal gaped. “That was your basis for telling her?”

“Yes, no, it just sort of slipped out. Wyatt was being difficult and—”

“Wyatt Conner.” Hal’s face paled. “You’re joking. You have to be fucking joking.” He backed away and leaned against the wall. He placed both hands over his face and mumbled against his fingers, “Please tell me this is a joke, Ter.”

“She’s sorta dating him and—”

“I play on the football team with him.” Hal was still speaking into his hand. “You knew that, right? That he’s on varsity this year.”

“Yeah, I knew.”

“You did not tell Wyatt Conner’s girlfriend about us. This can’t be happening.” Hal dropped his hands, looking completely horrified. “You ain’t that stupid. It’s not physically possible. He is, hands down, the worst person in the world to know.”

“He doesn’t know about us. Just me,” Terry said defensively. “And Tabitha won’t tell him if you ask her not to. She’s my friend.”

Hal gave Terry a look of disbelief. “Since when? In case you ain’t noticed, I hang out with you. I’ve never seen you with this girl before. Now you’re ditching class to take her back to your house. What the fuck is going on?”

“I don’t have to ditch class,” Tabitha said quickly, because she didn’t want to cause Terry any problems. “Really, I’ll be fine. This isn’t the first time I’ve had a bad night. I’ll just try to avoid Brett’s friends until I get myself together. I don’t think Vaughn is in school today and—”

“What?” Hal interrupted her.

“He attacked her. She’s shaken up.” Terry’s voice was pleading for understanding. “She needs a nap.”

“Who attacked her?”

Terry took a deep breath and gave Hal the very abbreviated version of what happened. He glazed over some of the nastier aspects, but Tabitha’s cheeks still heated in embarrassment.

“Does Wyatt know all this?” Hal asked, studying Tabitha in concern. His gaze stopped on her forehead.

“He knows something’s wrong, but I ain’t told him yet. I think it’ll upset him,” Tabitha whispered, finding that she liked Hal once she got past his abrasive attitude, and if Terry cared for him, he had to be a nice person. “But then he showed up at the bus drop-off, and he got irritated ’bout me hugging Terry.”

“Yeah, I know how he feels.” Hal’s gaze dropped to Terry’s arm still over her shoulder.

“I’m sorry.” Tabitha found herself fighting tears again. The exhaustion wasn’t helping her problem at all. “Maybe I should go to class.”

The first bell rang in warning.

“Let’s just go,” Hal said before Tabitha could voice another complaint. “But I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t say anything to Wyatt ’bout me.”

“I would never,” Tabitha said quickly. “I don’t care if you’re—”

“Don’t say it.” Hal pushed past them and walked to the door. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys. “Besides, you got bigger problems than me or Terry’s issues.”

“What’s that?” Tabitha asked as she and Terry followed after him. “I mean, besides the obvious.”

“There’s a reason Wyatt is a starting linebacker as a freshman. I ain’t never seen anything like him, and I’ve been playing ball since I was five. He’s meaner than the devil himself when he’s protecting someone,” Hal said grimly and looked down at her as he pushed open the door for both of them. “I think he’s gonna kill that motherfucker when he finds out what happened…and your brother too.”

The list of things Wyatt was having a hard time coming to terms with this morning was extensive, but he dealt with them silently as he sat next to Hal Parker in a beaten-up brown station wagon that had likely once belonged to Hal’s mother.

He should probably be worried about his sister, who was going to lose her shit when she found out he cut class. Or his father, who was going to be equally freaked out when Jules told him. Or his space on the football team that was being put in definite jeopardy for this outing.

Instead, he kept turning around to look into the backseat, because Terry and Tabitha were talking in low, hushed whispers, their heads bowed close together in a way that was more than a little intimate. It set him on edge, and he might be inclined to think Terry was a better liar than Jules, if Wyatt didn’t notice Hal was having issues too.

Hal wasn’t saying much, which in itself wasn’t out of the ordinary. He was never a big talker, but he had adjusted the rearview mirror four times and counting. Wyatt scooted down on the seat and tilted his head to see where the mirror was reflecting only to spy Terry and Tabitha’s faces glaring back at him.

Wyatt let his eyes roll to the side and studied Hal, whose broad shoulders were stiff in defensiveness. There were creases in his forehead from the permanent frown that had been on his face since they’d gotten into the car.

Hal tilted the mirror again and then grunted.

Wyatt looked at the reflection, seeing that Terry was touching Tabitha’s hair. He grunted too when the spark of jealously hit him in the chest.

“So, Parker,” Wyatt started, because he was in desperate need of a distraction to keep him from leaning into the backseat and punching Terry. “You dating someone?”

“No.”

Wyatt raised his eyebrows at the curt one-word answer. “You got your eye on anyone?”

“Why the fuck are you asking?” Hal barked back, finally looking away from the road to glare at Wyatt.

“Do you have a problem with me asking?” he asked curiously.

“Yeah, I have a problem with it. Mind your own damn business.”

Wyatt had seen one too many defensive criminals dragged into the sheriff’s office not to have red flags going up everywhere. This was turning out to be a highly educational trip into juvenile delinquency. Wyatt needed to cut school more often.

A grin quirked at the corner of his mouth, even if he was having a very hard time wrapping his brain around the idea that was forming. He was a little too nosy not to press the issue, especially when the silence had Hal messing with the mirror again.

Wyatt made a point to lean over, now being blatant about it rather than subtle. He looked at the mirror pointedly. “Wanna tell me what you’re looking at back there?”

Hal shoved him with a low growl of frustration, which said something about him. Not many people shoved Wyatt these days. Hal didn’t bother to straighten the mirror, but his eyes were back on the road, his shoulders even more tense, and there was a pulse of noticeable fear throbbing off him.

“I’m just asking ’cause my girl’s back there. You don’t like redheads, do you, Parker? I’d hate to think me and you have a problem.”

“Wyatt,” Tabitha said in warning.

Wyatt threw up his hands defensively. “Some guys have a thing for redheads, Tab. That’s a fact. I know ’cause I’m one of them, but then again maybe he has different tastes.”

They pulled into the driveway, and Hal was on him before he’d put the car into park. He wrapped his large hand around Wyatt’s neck and leaned in with a low growl of fury. “You listen to me, you little shit. I don’t give a fuck how badass you think you are on the football field or how invincible you think your daddy’s badge makes you. If you say one word ’bout Terry to anyone, I will fucking bury you.”

Wyatt smiled broadly when he saw how flushed Hal’s face was. “Defending his honor?”

“Motherfucker.” Hal shoved him, forcing Wyatt’s head to crack against the window. “I ain’t kidding.”

Wyatt laughed. “I can tell.”

Hal shoved him again and then sat back up. He put the car into park with hard, jerky motions. “Terry, I’m gonna kill you instead of him. You don’t know him like I do. He is not gonna let this shit go. I have no idea how Powers tolerates his mouth living in that house like he does. He is a fucking force unto himself.”

“I just wanna know one thing,” Wyatt said before Hal could get out of the car. “Do you check me out in the shower?”

Hal turned around to give Terry a dark, angry look.

Wyatt glanced at the rearview mirror and saw Terry wince in response as he said, “I didn’t think ’bout that.”

“Yeah, you wouldn’t. You don’t think ’bout anything.” Hal turned back to glare at Wyatt once more. “No, I do not check you out. You ain’t my type, Conner. So don’t flatter yourself.”

“It seems to me like I’m kinda your type.” Wyatt arched an eyebrow and gestured to himself. “Oh, come on, you looked. You can admit it. I ain’t gonna hold it against you.”

“Fuck you.”

“Hey, I don’t care if you did. I ain’t shy.” Wyatt laughed again. “You can look if you want.”

“Un-fucking-believable.” Hal got out of the car. “I’m staying here today. I got to figure out what I’m gonna do. Short of murder, there’s no muzzling this prick.”

He slammed the door hard enough to make the station wagon shake, then leaned back against it and put both his hands to his face as his shoulders slumped.

“Why did you have to do that?” Tabitha asked, the disappointment sounding in her voice. “That was mean.”

“Yeah, you’re an asshole,” Terry agreed. “Dunno why I wanted to help you. Come on, Tabitha, we’ll figure your shit out. You can walk back to school, Conner. You ain’t welcome in my house anymore.”

“Shit.” Wyatt winced, feeling guilty almost instantly. He ran a hand over his face, wishing he had gotten more sleep last night. “I’m sorry. It’s just, I’m freaked out ’bout what happened last night, and you’re brushing me off and crawling all over him.” Wyatt turned around and gave Tabitha a look of hurt he couldn’t hide. “And I don’t understand why. Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” Tabitha said softly and imitated Hal outside when she covered her face with her hands. “All of this is my fault. Now Hal’s upset when he was nice enough to drive us and—”

“Look, I’ll fix it,” Wyatt said quickly and then opened the door and got out. He walked around the front of the car and came to stand next to Hal. He reached out to touch Hal’s shoulder. “Parker.”

Hal knocked Wyatt’s hand away without looking at him. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

Terry and Tabitha got out of the backseat. They cast him disappointed glares as they walked to the house. Wyatt got the distinct impression if he didn’t somehow make things right with Hal, he was going to end up sitting outside, and that wasn’t an option. He wanted to know what the hell had her crying and bruised up this morning. Every defense mechanism he had was going off.

It was little wonder he started something to ease the anxiety that had him wound up so tightly it felt like it was squeezing the air out of his chest.

“I ain’t gonna say anything,” Wyatt told Hal earnestly once Terry and Tabitha went inside. “You want it private, and I get it. The secret’s safe. You’re a good guy. I wouldn’t ’cause you problems for nothing. I know most the guys on the team are assholes.”

“And why the hell should we believe you?”

“I guess you shouldn’t. I’m an asshole too. Probably the biggest one of the lot.” Wyatt leaned back against the car and shrugged. “I swear, Parker, that girl gets under my skin, and I end up doing the stupidest shit. Ask Clay ’bout it sometime if you don’t believe me. I get jealous, and I stop thinking, but that ain’t your fault, and I’m sorry I used you as a distraction. Not my place to give you hell over your preference. Tits are awesome, but whatever. This is America, and it’s your choice who you wanna spend your spare time with.”

Hal let out a choked, broken laugh that made him sound like he was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. “Jesus, Conner. Is there a filter for that mouth of yours?”

“Probably not.” Wyatt sighed. “But really, maybe you ought to start looking harder at the other side. God, Tabitha always smells so good, and she feels amazing pressed up against me, all curvy and soft. I just wanna spend every minute next to her. I can’t imagine wanting a fella over something like that.”

“It ain’t that easy. I have looked. Probably closer than you have. I’ve been with a few girls.”

Wyatt raised his eyebrows. “Been with?”

“Yeah, been with.”

“Wow, if I’d been with a girl, I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t be dating Terry Dower.”

“You ain’t never—” Hal arched an eyebrow at him.

Wyatt shook his head.

“Really?” Hal frowned. “I figured you’d been doing it since middle school. Any girl with a pulse likes you.”

“Yeah, but I only got one girl in mind.” Wyatt looked back to the house longingly. “I love her so dang much sometimes I feel like I can’t even breathe without her around.”

“I sorta caught that.” Hal sent him a hesitant look. “You know, Conner, her home life ain’t great.”

Wyatt nodded miserably. “I know.”

“Terry said Vaughn Davis attacked her last night.”

“Attacked her?” Wyatt repeated as his entire body stiffened.

“Calm down. He didn’t rape her; I asked. They just scared her,” Hal said quickly and threw one big arm out to stop Wyatt when he pushed away from the car. “Now don’t be barging in there like a bull and scaring her worse. Stop. Take a breath and listen to me for five minutes.”

Wyatt wasn’t listening. He shoved past Hal, intent on getting to Tabitha and finding out exactly what happened last night. He was cursing himself for not listening to his instincts and stopping her from going home. He was halfway across the yard when Hal downed him with a tackle that was impressive. Thank God for grass. He’d have lost a tooth for sure, and his father would kill him if he needed another one capped.

It only took him a second to recover despite being crushed under Hal’s weight. He threw his elbow back into Hal’s chest hard enough to knock the air out of him. Then he rolled out from him easily and got to his feet. Hal grabbed his ankle, but Wyatt was in full offense mode and broke out of the hold. He stomped on his hand for good measure. Hanging out with Clay all the time was bad for his sportsmanship.

Hal shouted in shock and then rolled over, grabbing at Wyatt’s ankle again with his other hand. He was quick for a linebacker, almost as quick as Wyatt, but not quite.

“This ain’t a football field,” Wyatt warned Hal in a low voice because he really didn’t want to fight him. “You keep attacking me, and I’m gonna start swinging. Trust me, Parker, you don’t want that. I got more than one black belt that says I can end you.”

“You cannot go in there and start barking at that girl. She is fragile, and you’re just gonna make things worse for her. Remember when you said you stop thinking. This is one of those moments for you. You’re gonna fuck up. Now I’m helping you. So I suggest you stop and appreciate it before someone calls the cops. How do you think that’s gonna turn out, seeing how class started twenty minutes ago?”

That was enough to give Wyatt pause. He looked around, glancing at the windows of Terry’s neighbors. Hal got to his feet with a groan, holding his injured hand.

“Hell, Conner, I think you broke it.”

If the threat of his father showing up didn’t jerk Wyatt back to reality, that sure did. He looked at Hal’s hand in concern. “Are you fucking with me?”

“Yeah, I think I’m fucking with you.” Hal flexed his fingers and then shook his hand experimentally. “It should be fine. Christ, you’re a hazard. Is this what you and Powers do at the rec center all the time?”

“He’s trying out for varsity wrestling,” Wyatt mumbled, still watching as Hal flexed his fingers.

“Feel sorry for the guys on varsity then. Holy shit. Fighting you is like trying to battle a hurricane.”

“Thanks.”

Hal looked up. “That wasn’t a compliment.”

“Then I hate to tell you, that wasn’t fighting.” Wyatt winced. “You can’t tackle me off the field. It messes with my sensors. I’m from a cop family. I’m all offense.”

“No kidding,” Hal said sarcastically and shook his hand once more before he looked up. “You got to cool off for a minute before you go in there.”

Wyatt took a deep breath and nodded, deciding Hal could have a point. “W-what’d she say to you? What do you know?”

“She told Terry the whole story. I just got the finer points of it.” Hal shrugged, giving Wyatt a long look. “But from what I gathered, her brother and Vaughn caught y’all doing something inappropriate and—”

“It wasn’t that inappropriate.” Wyatt interrupted him.

“Well, I guess it was enough to set them off. They cornered her in the bathroom, and I think Vaughn threatened to do some pretty nasty things to her.”

“Why?” Wyatt’s blood was pumping in his ears, but he fought past the haze to sort out details like Jules would in this situation. “There’s something missing here. Why would they just go after her like that?”

“Well, she ain’t bad-looking.” Hal shrugged. “Which I’m sure you noticed.”

“But you said they cornered her. Brett’s got a different motivation than Vaughn.” Wyatt pressed as he frowned at Hal. “Is there something you ain’t telling me?”

Hal shook his head. “I don’t think so, but I got it all secondhand.”

“I’m going to talk to her.” Wyatt started toward the house but was stopped when Hal grabbed the back of his shirt. He turned back around, glaring at Hal. “What now?”

“She’s had to tell the story once. Why not just let her rest? Girls ain’t as solution oriented as fellas are. Sometimes they just want someone to be there for them.”

“Are you giving me advice on girls?” Wyatt couldn’t help the laugh of disbelief that slipped out of him. “Really?”

“I do have more experience with them.” A smile quirked at the corner of Hal’s lips. “A lot more.”

Wyatt had to shrug in agreement. “I guess that’s true. But you forget, I have a twin who’s a girl, and she’s solution oriented. Her life sorta revolves around it, actually.”

“Your sister ain’t a normal girl. But that one in there is, and I think you ought to let it go for a little while. There’s nothing you can do ’bout any of it right now anyway. Terry will tell you what happened later.”

“I don’t think your boy Terry likes me all that much,” Wyatt couldn’t help but point out. “He might leave out things on purpose.”

“I’ll make sure he tells you. I know it’s important,” Hal assured him.

Wyatt stood there contemplating everything. He didn’t want to make Tabitha upset. He didn’t think there was anything worse in the world than seeing his girl crying, and he sure didn’t want to be the cause of it.

He already felt guilty about kissing her out in the open. He couldn’t believe one kiss could cause this many issues. He rubbed at the back of his neck as he took another cooling breath. He suddenly needed to be with Tabitha, to know for himself that she was fine.

“Yeah, okay, you’re right.” Wyatt turned and walked to the house, not really sure if he meant the words or not, but he was willing to say anything to get into that house.

He could deal with Vaughn and Brett later.

Terry’s bed was really soft, with an expensive mattress and nice sheets to boot. It was big too, overall much nicer than her beaten-up twin-size at home. She snuggled under the covers, which smelled like men’s cologne. It sort of reminded her of Wyatt. She noticed he’d been wearing that stuff lately, and she’d be lying to say she didn’t like it.

“Are you hungry, darlin’?” Terry asked in concern. “I can have Hal make you something when he comes in. That fella can cook like you wouldn’t believe.”

Tabitha smiled. The romantic in her enjoyed the unabashed adoration that sounded in Terry’s voice when he said Hal’s name. “No, I’m good. Thank you.”

“You sure?”

“Mmm,” she hummed in agreement. She was hungry, but she was more tired. “I’m just gonna take a quick nap.”

She pulled the sheets up higher around her and snuggled against his pillow. Terry stayed in the room with her, sitting in a chair in the corner as Tabitha closed her eyes, but she couldn’t fall asleep. She kept thinking about what happened in the bathroom the day before.

How was she ever going to be able to live in that house and feel safe? But she didn’t want to turn to Wyatt’s father either. Her mama would be so upset, and there was a bizarre side of Tabitha that needed to protect her mother. Lord knew she wasn’t capable of protecting herself.

And her mama was getting better. She had a job now.

If Tabitha could just find a way to endure her brother and his friends long enough, her mother would stop drinking, and everything would be okay. She wanted to believe it. Maybe if she had, she could have found some peace in her dreams, but she was awake instead.

She was still fighting the battle for rest when Wyatt came to the room.

“Get out, Conner.” Terry’s voice was low and defensive. “I already said you ain’t welcome.”

Tabitha blinked and rolled over, looking to the open bedroom door. Wyatt was leaning against the frame, holding onto the top of it with both hands as he stared down at her. His wide shoulders and impressive height filled up the whole doorway. Sometimes her mind had a hard time accepting this was the same boy who used to give her cookies every morning on the benches outside the school.

His blond hair was disheveled, his light eyes even more startling when they were rimmed with dark circles. He looked so stressed out and tired, it hurt Tabitha’s heart to see it.

“Do you wanna lay down with me?” she whispered.

Terry grunted. “Tab—”

“No, it’s good,” she interrupted him. “He’s sorry ’bout Hal. I know he is. Tell him, Wy.”

Sometimes Wyatt said dumb things, but his heart was always in the right place. She knew her hero. He wouldn’t do anything to hurt someone with no reason. He’d never tell the other guys on the football team about Terry and Hal, just like he never told his father about her family. She trusted Wyatt completely.

“I am sorry,” Wyatt said softly as his gaze darted from Tabitha to Terry in the chair behind her. “I won’t say anything, Dower. I promise.”

Tabitha held up the blanket to him, and Wyatt pushed away from the door. He toed off his sneakers at the edge of the bed and then crawled under the sheets with her. Tabitha took a shuddering breath when he wrapped those big strong arms around her, nearly smothering her with his weight, but it was okay.

For that moment, everything was right with Tabitha’s world.

Wyatt ran one socked foot up her calf and leaned over to press a kiss against the bandage that hid the cut on her forehead.

“Are you okay?” he asked in a low, concerned voice against her ear.

She smiled. “I am now.”

He squeezed her tighter and then buried his face in the curve of her neck. “I love you.”

She reached for his hand in response, feeling his rough palm against her smooth one when she intertwined their fingers.

“I was so scared.” His voice cracked in emotion.

She blinked to fight the tears. “I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be sorry. It was my fault.” He pressed his lips against her neck. “I just wanna keep you here forever. In my arms. Safe.”

“I want that too.”

“I’m gonna fix it for you, okay?”

If she wasn’t quite so tired, she might have asked him what he meant by that, but instead all she did was whisper “Okay,” and started drifting off to sleep instead.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she felt the tension leave Wyatt’s body with her soft agreement.

Neither of them heard Terry leave.

Chapter Sixteen

It took Wyatt three full days to find Vaughn and Brett alone.

In any other circumstance, the wait would’ve been good for them, but instead it just let the fury build to the point that Wyatt’s entire being was wound up and desperate for a fight. Now he was well rested and antsy as he leaned against the side of the old trailer Clay used to call home and watched Vaughn sell drugs to Jason Wiltkins, who’d dropped out of school last year.

“Wait till Wiltkins leaves,” Clay whispered in his ear. “We wanted them alone. That was the plan.”

Wyatt grunted. He wasn’t sure he could just keep standing there after waiting this long.

“Wyatt—”

Wyatt shoved Clay’s hand off his shoulder, realizing he’d taken a determined step forward. Having his best friend along wasn’t part of Wyatt’s plan, but Clay was so damn hardheaded Wyatt finally gave up the fight. Tabitha was Clay’s friend too. He could understand Clay wanting to take a piece out of Vaughn and Brett, but the situation wasn’t ideal.

“I wanna do it,” Wyatt whispered furiously. “You lemme do this, Clay. You can’t afford to get in trouble. No one will take you in if you wind up in jail.”

“Fine.”

Wyatt turned back, arching an eyebrow at Clay in surprise. “Really?”

Clay nodded, his dark gaze studying Wyatt intently. “I’m just here to play backup.”

Satisfied, he jumped out from behind the trailer, ignoring Clay growling out a furious “Fuck” when Wyatt slipped past his grasp.

When he burst out from behind the weeds, all three boys turned in his direction.

“What the hell are you trying to give me?” Jason Wiltkins dropped the bag of weed like it was on fire. He backed up, holding up his hands. “I swear, Conner—”

Brett and Vaughn didn’t say anything. They took off running into the field behind the trailer park. Wyatt let them go and took a second to swoop up the bag of weed at Jason’s feet, because there was nothing but wide-open space in that field, and he knew he could catch them. He didn’t spend every afternoon running drills with the football team for nothing.

Brett and Vaughn both smoked cigarettes like chimneys.

They had no chance.

Wyatt wore his best sneakers and had forgone jeans for shorts on purpose. He flew across that field, feeling the wind in his hair and the blood pumping in his ears. He caught Brett first, which worked out perfect.

He wrapped a hand around Brett’s arm and jerked him back. It was sheer adrenaline that allowed Wyatt to hold Brett on his feet when the momentum of them both stopping so suddenly would have sent him crashing into the dirt.

Knowing he still had Vaughn to catch, Wyatt made it simple. He slammed his fist into Brett’s face hard enough to feel his nose break under his knuckles that he’d taped up before he and Clay left home.

Brett went limp instantly, his dead weight nearly dragging Wyatt down.

He dropped him instead and left him there. Then he went after Vaughn, who was at the edge of the field, almost to the road, but there was absolutely no way Wyatt was going to let him slip through his fingers after he’d spent three days waiting to get him.

He jumped at him, throwing his shoulder into the tackle. Vaughn shouted in pain when he ended up buried in the weeds with all of Wyatt’s weight on him.

“I didn’t fuck her!” he screamed as Wyatt wrestled him, fighting to get him on his back. “I swear, Conner, I didn’t—”

Wyatt threw the bag of pot at Vaughn’s face as he held him down. “You know what that is, Davis.”

Vaughn fought him harder, struggling to get up.

“That’s my fucking insurance,” Wyatt whispered in a low, deadly voice as he leaned down and got in face. “I ain’t gonna say anything ’bout you dealing drugs to my dad, and you ain’t gonna say anything ’bout what I’m gonna to do to you for hurting my girl.”

Vaughn broke one arm out of Wyatt’s tight hold, swinging at him, but Wyatt swatted the blow like it was an annoying fly buzzing near his face. Vaughn’s face contorted into a look of sheer fear as he shouted with a shaking bravado, “Get off me, you faggot!”

Wyatt suddenly didn’t like that word. Not when Terry and Hal had done so much for Tabitha. That put them on the short list of people Wyatt would gladly break the law for. He punched Vaughn before he could say it again, watching with satisfaction when his nose popped like a grapefruit hitting the pavement from the top of a tall building.

Blood covered Vaughn’s face. It covered Wyatt’s fist, but he didn’t see any of it because suddenly he remembered how fragile and scared Tabitha was the morning after Vaughn attacked her. The second time he punched Vaughn, he did it for Tabitha, and he did it twice as hard.

Then he was letting three days of agony flow out through his fist, hitting Vaughn anywhere he could. He kneed him in the groin, just because. He was about to get up and start kicking him until the bastard stopped breathing, but something stopped him. A big and mean something, with a lot more velocity than Brett or Vaughn could manage.

Wyatt blinked up at Clay when he found himself flat in the grass underneath his best friend.

“He’s out!” Clay shouted, his face flushed red from running. “He’s totally fucking out. He can’t even feel this shit!”

Wyatt kicked Vaughn in the ribs rather than listen.

Clay punched him, a hard right hook that had white spots dancing in Wyatt’s vision when Clay’s fist connected with his cheek. It didn’t help that Clay had taped his knuckles too. Wyatt just glared at him as he blinked past the pain. If Clay thought that was going to stop him, his best friend didn’t know him as well as he thought he did.

Wyatt kicked Vaughn again, wishing he’d worn his cleats instead. He threw all his leg weight into the attack, kicking him with both feet as Clay struggled to pin him down.

“I said stop, Wyatt!” Clay shouted again. “You’re gonna fucking kill him! You wanna end up in jail for murder, you stupid motherfucker?”

Wyatt raised his leg, fighting to look past Clay’s bulk. He nailed Vaughn’s face when he saw he had the right angle. He did it once more because it felt too good not to.

“Run, Wiltkins! Get someone.”

Wyatt stopped kicking Vaughn and turned his head, seeing Brett had gotten to his feet. He was holding a hand to his nose that was bleeding profusely. His words were garbled, but he was up and moving. Wyatt narrowed his eyes.

He’d forgotten about Brett.

He punched Clay, catching him off guard, and then struggled to get out from under him. Clay grabbed his ankle when he scrambled to his feet. Wyatt kicked him to break free, catching him hard enough in the face to have Clay grunting in pain.

He took off after Brett again, who screamed, “Fuck!” and turned back to the trailer park.

Brett tripped before he could get far. The first punch Wyatt delivered had obviously messed with his equilibrium. When Wyatt got to him, he kicked him in the ribs before he could get back to his feet.

Wyatt’s breathing was labored as the blood still pounded in his ears. He thought about all the years Tabitha spent hiding from this asshole who was supposed to protect her instead of hurt her. He brought his foot down on his face, dead center, just stomped him into the dirt, feeling bones cracking under his shoe.

He might have stomped on him until he killed him if he didn’t get tackled a second time, and this one hit him with such force he couldn’t help but whisper a choked “Ouch” when he found himself blinking up at Clay again.

His head had hit a rock under the weight of two hundred and ten pounds of raw determination to save Wyatt from himself. He continued to blink at Clay, seeing stars again. “There are rocks in this field, asshole. My head.”

“Oh shit.” Clay sat up over him, his dark eyes narrowed in concern. “Lemme see.”

Wyatt rolled to the side under him. Showing off the back of his head.

“Motherfucker,” Clay groaned.

“Did you get me?” Wyatt moved to touch the injury.

“Don’t fucking touch it.” Clay swatted his hand away. “You got Vaughn’s blood all over you. He could be shooting up for all you know.”

“What?” Wyatt fought to make sense of everything past the crash of adrenaline from fighting and the throb of pain in his head.

“Come on, get up. We need to get lost.” Clay got to his feet and then leaned down to help Wyatt up. “Don’t touch your head.”

“Is it bad?”

“It ain’t great.”

“Shit.” Wyatt turned to glare at Clay. “You were supposed to be my backup. How come I got another concussion thanks to you?”

Clay leaned in and gave him a look. “I was your backup. They’re both still breathing, ain’t they?”

Wyatt turned to look at Vaughn prone and unmoving on the field. Then he glanced back to Brett, lying there bleeding, with his nose crushed in and his eyes closed. “Someone should call my dad now,” he mumbled.

“Are you fucking crazy? You’re in some serious shit, Wyatt,” Clay said incredulously. “We need to go. Right now.”

Clay grasped his arm and jerked him forward to prove his point. Wyatt followed him, resisting the urge to touch the back of his head. The two of them walked past Jason Wiltkins, who was standing there shell-shocked at the edge of the trailer park.

“Your pot’s back there,” Clay said to him and then let go of Wyatt to take a threatening step toward the smaller teenager. “And here’s what’s gonna go down, Wiltkins. You’re gonna give us a ten-minute head start. Then you’re gonna call for an ambulance, say you found them like that, and you don’t know nothing ‘bout what went on in this field. When the sheriff starts grilling you for answers, you’re gonna look in his face, remember what my buddy Wyatt is capable of, and know I was the one to stop him. You think he’s scary when he’s mad, you ain’t seen nothing yet. I will bury you personally if you rat him out, and that ain’t a lie.”

Jason’s eyes were wide and horrified. “I believe you.”

“I sure hope so,” Clay said menacingly. “’Cause I don’t feel like digging a shallow grave for a worthless asshole like you.”

“I ain’t gonna say anything, Powers. I swear.” Jason’s voice was a low rasp of fear. “I ain’t never seen anything like that. Are you sure they ain’t dead?”

Clay cast a concerned look back at Vaughn and then wrapped his hand around Wyatt’s arm again. Wyatt followed him until they got to their bikes, but then he stopped and jerked his arm out of Clay’s grasp.

“This ain’t right, Clay. I’m supposed to stay and wait for my dad to show up. I did it. I should face the consequences.” Wyatt folded his arms over his chest stubbornly.

“No,” Clay growled at him as he got in his face again. “You’re gonna get on that fucking bike right now, and we’re gonna ride like the devil’s chasing our asses, ’cause I am not gonna end up in jail for those two assholes, and you’re not either.”

Wyatt shook his head. “You didn’t do anything.”

“The fuck I didn’t.” Clay let out a crazed laugh. “I could’ve stopped you a lot sooner than I did, and Wiltkins saw me just fucking standing there letting you do what you did. I’d be up as an accessory for sure, and don’t tell me you don’t know what that means, ’cause I know you do. Now shove your noble bullshit and get on the bike!”

Wyatt stared at him for one long second, contemplating what it would mean for Clay to get tied up in this mess. Then he leaned down and picked up his bike, willing to sacrifice his integrity for Clay rather than himself.

Turned out his best friend did know him.

Chapter Seventeen

“Damn drugs.” Tabitha’s mother cursed from her seat in the ER waiting room. “I knew dealing that shit would stick him here eventually. He’s lucky he ain’t dead.”

“Yeah,” Tabitha agreed softly.

“Hope they set his nose straight in this surgery. Fucking hospital. First thing they ask for is the insurance card. This is what I get for having a job and losing benefits. They’ll probably screw up on purpose, knowing we can’t pay for it.”

“I don’t think they’ll do that,” Tabitha argued. “The doctors seemed nice when they came out here. How bad does a nose have to be broke to need surgery?”

“Bad.” Her mother shook her head. “It looked like an elephant stomped on his face.”

Tabitha winced at the image. “Glad I missed it.”

“You should’ve seen Vaughn. He looked worse.” Her mother snorted. “He’ll be in here for a week, and you know Mary ain’t got a lick of insurance either.”

Tabitha couldn’t help the jolt of fear at the mention of Vaughn, and she also couldn’t help the rising suspicions that were building in the back of her mind. Finally she had to put voice to them and ask, “Do they know who did it?”

“No. And Brett ain’t talking. Can’t say that’s a bad thing. He starts pointing fingers, and he’s gonna have the sheriff on his ass when he figures out why they got their asses kicked. Better a broken nose than a criminal record. He’s already got that stain for breaking into the old Harver house.”

Tabitha nodded. “That’s true.”

“Oh, shit, speaking of.” Her mother turned to Tabitha, her brown eyes wide in panic. “You play it cool, missy. Don’t be saying nothing ’bout the drugs or—” She turned back around when Sheriff Conner got too close. “Howdy, Sheriff. You figure out what sorta criminal beat on my boy?”

“Nah, not yet.” The sheriff pointed to the empty seat next to Tabitha. “Mind if I sit?”

Tabitha’s mother made a sound in the back of her throat. “We’re sorta waiting to hear ’bout the surgery and—”

“I’ll keep you company.” The sheriff sat down without invitation and looked at Tabitha seriously. “Darlin’, you wouldn’t happen to know of anyone who had a vendetta against your brother, would you?”

Tabitha shook her head silently as she studied his face, seeing all the different features that were Wyatt’s. His nose, the shape of his eyes, his lips. There was so much of Wyatt there. Even if the sheriff’s hair was dark and his eyes were brown instead of blue, it was giving her a strange sort of whiplash.

“You sure?” he asked, studying her intently, the way Wyatt usually did when he was trying to figure out a riddle. “Violent crimes like this usually happen because someone’s got a reason to be really angry. This reeks of premeditation. Can you think of anyone who’d be mad at your brother or Vaughn Davis and plot to hurt them?”

Tabitha shook her head again.

“You sure?” he pressed again. “No one at school?”

Tabitha swallowed hard, thinking of one person, but she’d never say it out loud. “No, sir.”

“Has your brother been doing some things that could make someone upset? Like something to do with drugs? Or does he owe someone money? Gambling, maybe?”

“I think we’re done talking,” her mother cut in.

“I’m trying to help you,” the sheriff barked in obvious frustration. “I ain’t got no witnesses save one kid who showed up after it happened. Unless you can give me some leads or you can get Brett to start talking ’bout what happened, your boy’s in danger of getting hurt again. How do you know they weren’t trying to kill him? And how do you know they ain’t gonna try again? A little trouble with drugs is a lot better than being six feet under.”

“My boy doesn’t do drugs,” she said quickly. “He don’t sell them neither.”

“Well, he did something to make someone angry enough to break his nose.” The sheriff threw up his hands. “And Vaughn Davis has got four broken ribs and a nose that’s in worse shape than your son’s is, but neither of them seem to remember who did all that. I find that pretty hard to believe, Mrs. McMillen.”

“We don’t know anything. He’s got a concussion, in case you didn’t know. It made his memory foggy.” Tabitha’s mother shrugged. “But if Brett gets any ideas, I’ll be sure to call you up.”

“Concussions rarely cause memory loss.”

“Rarely don’t mean never, does it?”

“No, I guess it doesn’t.” The sheriff looked to Tabitha once more. “Are you okay?”

Tabitha nodded again. “Yes, sir.”

“What happened to your head?”

Tabitha cupped a hand to her head self-consciously to cover the green-tinged bruising the bandage didn’t hide. “I tripped.”

“On what?”

“The carpet.” Tabitha lowered her gaze, because looking at a face so much like Wyatt’s made it hard to lie. “I hit my head on the coffee table.”

“Really?” he asked in disbelief.

“Yes, sir.”

“When’d that happen?”

“A few days ago.”

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

Tabitha nodded again, making sure to keep her eyes lower as she mumbled, “Yes, sir.”

“What?” Her mother leaned forward, giving Tabitha a look of shock. “I didn’t know that. Who?”

“Terry Dower. He rides on the bus with me.” Tabitha turned to her mother and said, “He’s nice. I like him.”

“Wow.” Her mother raised her eyebrows, obviously impressed. “Hang on to that one. His mama’s rich.”

“Yeah, that ain’t it. No way that boy caused this much damage,” the sheriff grumbled. “I’m looking for someone a lot bigger than Terry Dower. Okay, I guess if y’all don’t got anything else to say to me—”

“We don’t,” her mother assured him.

“Then I’m gonna go talk to Connie Davis and see what she knows.”

Tabitha looked up at the sheriff, wishing she could tell him to stop nosing into a crime that might unearth something he really didn’t want to know about.

“Hey, Clay, you’re friends with Tabitha McMillen, ain’t ya?”

Clay glanced up from his food and looked across the breakfast table. “Yeah. Why?”

Wyatt watched his father take a sip of coffee out of his sheriff’s mug. He sat next to Jules, wearing jeans and a T-shirt since it was his day off. He ran a hand through his hair and said, “Her brother got beat up pretty bad yesterday. He’s still in the hospital. Vaughn Davis too.”

“Her brother’s an asshole,” Clay said quickly, covering up Jules’s choked sound of shock. “I ain’t surprised someone wanted to beat on him a little.”

Wyatt met Jules’s eyes, seeing they were wide and stunned. Her entire body was stiff. He knew without asking she had just figured out everything. She’d been hounding him since last night, sensing instantly something was off as he fought to hide a concussion that hurt like hell and a cut on the back of his head that Clay pushed ice into for two hours to stop the bleeding.

“It was nasty. Those boys are lucky they ain’t dead,” Wyatt’s father went on. “You got any ideas who it could be?”

Clay rubbed at the back of his neck as he considered him. “Well, I ain’t got any proof, but I’m pretty sure he does drugs. That’s probably it.”

His father sighed. “Yeah, I’ve been suspecting that myself. I mean, come on, that Davis boy shows up with a car when he’s sixteen, and everyone knows his mama ain’t got a pot to piss in. I know he’s dealing. Not like he’s working somewhere for the money. They think I’m stupid.” He turned to Jules, frowning. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing,” Jules squeaked and looked back at her plate, her eyes still wide in horror.

“You ain’t eating.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Are you having problems?” their father asked in concern as he leaned down and studied Jules. “Do you need to go back to those doctors again? I know it’s uncomfortable, but you got to tell me ’bout these type of things.”

“It’s not girl problems.” Jules cheeks colored as she glared at Wyatt. “I just lost my appetite.”

“I dunno, missy,” he said skeptically. “I may take you up to Mercy with me today. I got to go back up there and check on those boys, see if I can get one of their family members to talk since they surely aren’t gonna help me out. Your friend Tabitha wasn’t all that helpful, Clay.”

Clay shrugged. “She’s shy.”

“I noticed.” Their father stood and walked to the counter. He poured himself another cup of coffee. “You know, she said she was dating one of the Dower boys. Terry, I think. Can you imagine? His mama is gonna flip her lid over that. That woman is so stuck up.”

“Yeah, she is,” Clay agreed. “Mrs. Dower hates my ass; that’s for sure.”

“Well, you don’t listen to folks like that.” Their father walked around the table with a fresh cup of coffee in his hand. He patted Clay’s shoulder affectionately. “You’re a good guy. We all know it.” Then he reached over and knocked Wyatt’s baseball cap off. “Too bad this son of mine keeps setting a bad example. Are we wearing hats at the table now?”

“We were.” Wyatt grunted and leaned down to pick up the hat to hide the wide-eyed look of pain that had to be showing on his face. The movement made his head hurt worse, and he couldn’t help but groan, “Holy shit.”

“What’s your problem?”

“Probably feeling Jules’s girl problems.” It was the best Wyatt could come up with considering the headache he had. “Sick vibe.”

Their father laughed. “Then we’re definitely taking her up to Mercy if she’s giving you menstrual cramps secondhand. That ain’t something you want the fellas on the football team to find out about.”

“I ain’t that sick,” Jules argued. “Do you have to go into work? It’s your day off. I was hoping you could take me shopping.”

“Sweetheart, I got to figure out this case and—”

“Please. You’re always working, and I miss you, and I’m stuck with Wyatt all the dang time and—” Jules let out a sob of misery.

“Okay, fine. We’ll go shopping. I suppose the county owes me a real day off.”

Jules smiled triumphantly, recovering from her bout of melancholy remarkably fast. “Well, okay, it’s a Ju Ju day.”

“Yeah, we’ll make it a Ju Ju day.” A smile sounded in his voice before he hit the back of Wyatt’s head again. “We’ll make it a Wy Wy day next week.”

“Great,” Wyatt choked, resisting the urge to reach up and cup his head protectively.

“What kinda trouble are y’all getting into today?”

“Probably just hanging round the rec center,” Wyatt mumbled, still reeling from the pounding in his skull that was so intense it churned his stomach.

“You can come shopping with us,” his father offered. “You could use a few more pairs of jeans. Clay, you too. Y’all grow out of your clothes faster than I can buy them.”

“Pass,” Wyatt said quickly. “I’d rather let Clay beat on me at the rec center.”

“I noticed you got another shiner this morning. Why do you two insist on—”

“He’s trying to make varsity wrestling,” Wyatt said before his father could finish with the lecture.

“I guess.” He shook his head and turned to leave the kitchen. “Get dressed, Jules; then we’ll leave. I just got to call the office real quick.”

Once he walked out of the room, Jules just looked at Clay and Wyatt across the table. Her eyes were narrowed suspiciously before she asked in a low whisper, “I knew there was something wrong with you. How bad’s your head?”

“Really fucking bad.” Wyatt finally cupped it protectively and leaned down to press his forehead against the table.” Oh my God, I’m gonna puke.”

“What happened to it?”

“I hit it on a rock.”

“Was Vaughn holding that rock when it landed against that hard head of yours?”

“No, Clay was tackling me when it connected with my hard head.”

“To stop you from killing Vaughn Davis,” Jules surmised instantly. “You did it, didn’t you?”

Clay kicked Wyatt under the table, as if it made a difference at this point in the game. Jules had been hounding him endlessly since last night. There just was no way to keep this level of injury or stress from her.

Wyatt swallowed hard, his face still against the table as he admitted, “Yeah, I did it.”

“Wyatt,” Clay growled in disbelief and then kicked him under the table once more for good measure.

“You might as well forget it. It’s a twin thing. You wouldn’t understand. But she would’ve found out,” Wyatt whispered in defeat.

“Unbelievable,” Jules said in a voice that quivered on the verge of panic. “I officially don’t like this girl, Wy Wy. She makes you stupid.”

“That ain’t her fault,” Wyatt whispered because he couldn’t deny the obvious.

“Does anyone know?”

“No,” Clay said uncertainly next to him.

“No one?” Jules questioned harshly. “Don’t lie to me, Clay.”

“No,” Clay lied again, because they both knew Jason Wiltkins saw the whole thing. “It was just the two of us.”

“Don’t tell Tabitha,” Jules said as she stood up. “Don’t tell anyone. Y’all just keep your traps shut ’bout everything, and eventually Daddy will give up. Do you think Vaughn or Brett are going to say anything?”

“I doubt it,” Clay said with a snort. “He annihilated them. I’m sure they’re scared to death.”

“Then I’ll work on distracting Daddy today. We’ll make sure it all blows over.” Jules walked around the table and placed her hand on Wyatt’s head. He would’ve shoved it away if he didn’t know the action would hurt him worse. She just stood there for a long moment before she announced, “You’ll be okay.”

“Glad she thinks so,” Wyatt groaned when his sister turned to leave.

“I can’t believe you told her,” Clay said in disbelief.

“I can’t believe you thought I was going to be able to keep it from her,” Wyatt countered. “Have you met my sister?”

“I guess you have a point,” Clay said sullenly. “That sick vibe thing y’all do freaks me out.”

“Try it from my end,” Wyatt grumbled. “I wish I could see Tab today.”

“I think that’s one of your more idiotic ideas, and after yesterday, that’s saying something.”

“Let’s go to the rec center,” Wyatt said rather argue. “Maybe she’ll show up.”

“She does make you stupid, you know?”

Wyatt shrugged. “I don’t care.”

The strangest thing about the entire incident was Tabitha suspected Wyatt did fix the problem just like he’d promised.

Brett had been avoiding her like the plague since he’d gotten released from the hospital. At first she thought it was just the pain and the big bottle of pills he’d come home with, but those ran out fast, and their mother didn’t have money to take in him for more no matter how much he whined about it.

So he turned to drinking instead, which her mother was more than happy to oblige him with. She was a big believer in self-medicating aches and pains. Tabitha was starting to suspect her mother enjoyed the company, and it left Tabitha even more on the outside of her family because she wasn’t part of the club.

But she was sort of okay with it even if her mother and Brett were bonding over Jack Daniel’s. It gave her an excuse to be out of the house.

Vaughn showed up a few times once he was able to get around again, but he wouldn’t even look her in the eye, let alone say something inappropriate. That spoke volumes about what transpired, even if Tabitha never found out exactly what happened to her brother and Vaughn that afternoon.

“Do you know what a vigilante is?”

“Like Batman?”

Wyatt’s eyes were closed. His head was resting on her knee. His hands were tapping rhythmically against his bare chest as he lay sprawled on the mat in the middle of the rec center’s boxing ring.

“Mmm,” Tabitha agreed as she stroked his sweaty hair away from his face. “You wanna know what I think?”

Wyatt smiled. “I love knowing what you think.”

“I think you’re one,” she mused thoughtfully.

Wyatt blinked up at her. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, I think you beat up the bad guys in your spare time.”

“Then who’s my sidekick?”

“You know who he is.”

Wyatt flattened his hand against his chest and laughed. “If you call Clay Robin, he will lose his shit.”

Tabitha giggled with him. “Tell me y’all did it.”

“No, I ain’t telling you that.” Wyatt’s grin faded. He looked up and studied her seriously for one long moment. “But I will ask ya if it did any good.”

“It seems like it. They’ve both been treating me like I’ve got some sort of infectious disease for the past four months,” Tabitha said softly as her fingers continued to run through his hair. “But Wyatt, you got to promise me you’ll never do something like that again. What if your daddy had found out? That’s what scared me the worse about that whole thing. The thought of you getting caught. I ain’t worth that.”

“I didn’t do anything, Tabby.” Wyatt’s eyes drifted close again. “You’ve just got a really fantastic imagination. It’s one of the things I like ’bout you.”

Tabitha finally dropped it. He never admitted to it. No matter how many times she asked him. Not once. It drove her crazy, but a part of her knew Wyatt was probably right not telling her. It was better she didn’t know the details. She just let them flourish and bloom in her imagination. They grew more fantastic with every passing day. She had even stopped feeling guilty for writing about her brother dying in the battle rather than ending up with a crooked nose and a taste for pain pills.

For some reason, in all the stories she’d written over the past few months, Vaughn never died in them. If he died, then the story would be over.

Heroes needed really terrible villains to battle, and in her mind, Vaughn was about as terrible as they came. So much so, she tried not to think on him too much. When she did she would remember villains like that always came back bigger and stronger in the second half of the movie. Maybe that was why she was so willing to sacrifice her brother in her stories. He wasn’t a villain; he was just an evil minion to something much more sinister.

“What kinda superpowers would you have if you were a vigilante?” Tabitha asked to distract herself from thoughts of Vaughn. “If you could do anything, what would it be?”

“I’d make pretty redheaded girls fall hopelessly in love with me.”

Tabitha giggled again. “You’re silly.”

“No, really, that’d be my superpower.” Wyatt opened his eyes and gave her a wide smile. “I’d wield it shamelessly.”

Tabitha arched an eyebrow at him. “All redheaded girls?”

“Nope.” He rolled on his side and slipped his hand underneath the cuff of her jeans. He caressed her calf and pressed a kiss to her knee. “Just this one.”

“Well,” Tabitha whispered as she stroked his hair and felt her stomach do that little flip it did whenever Wyatt was being touchy-feely and playful like this. “Maybe you really are a superhero, then?”

Wyatt lifted his head, staring at her in surprise. “What does that mean?”

Tabitha shrugged, feeling her cheeks heat as she admitted, “If that’s really your superpower, then I think it’s working.”

Wyatt’s gaze got hot as he looked up at her. Then he got on his hands and knees and leaned over her. Tabitha met him halfway, her eyes closing expectantly as he wrapped one hand around her neck and tugged her forward.

She moaned into his mouth when his lips met hers. His kiss was hard and confident, very different from the first one, because they’d been practicing—a lot.

They didn’t break apart until Tabitha was flat on her back on the mat, and Wyatt was lying over her. He pulled up, resting all his weight on his forearms as he looked down at her with his chest heaving.

“Say it.”

“Say what?” She panted as she fought to think after that.

“Say you love me.” Wyatt pushed her hair away from her face, studying her intently. “I wanna hear it.”

“I love you,” she whispered softly and then reached up to wrap her arms around his neck and tugged him back down.

He kissed her again, softer, gentler than the first time, but it was every bit as nice. Wyatt made everything golden. Life was beautiful around him, and she loved him for it. So much so, she wanted to stay right here forever and never open up another notebook. She wanted the story to end with this one perfect moment.

And they lived happily ever after.

If only she believed it was that easy.