“I’m holding on. Dr. Ross is a hardass, but I should get an A.” As much as I hate academics, I’m still good at it.
She frowns at the language but says nothing, tapping out a cigarette. “And lacrosse?”
“Still waiting for the all-clear.” I lever myself to my feet, rocking back on my heels. “Tell Dad if he wants to donate to the athletic association, now would be a good time.”
She shakes her head. “You don’t need your father’s money to get back on the team. Just take care of yourself.”
“I will,” I say, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “I need to run, though.”
Her smile wavers, but doesn’t disappear. “Okay, sweetheart, but you bring that girl around when you’re ready.”
“What girl?” I ask, blankly.
She shakes her head, more observant than I give her credit for, and opens her novel.
I head down the hall and duck into my room to grab a pair of boots out of my closet. As I step back out and shut the door I hear, “Hey there, little brother.”
The hair on my neck stands on end at just the voice alone. The sight of him standing in my doorway makes my stomach want to turn inside out. “Heston. What are you doing here?”
“My mini-mester isn’t over for a few more weeks. Just chilling here until the frat house opens back up.” He gives me a weird grin and the resulting paranoia makes me wonder if he heard me talking about Sugar to mom. Luckily, he just says, “Anyway, I found something to entertain me while I’m in town.”
“Oh yeah?” I mutter, grabbing my keys off the dresser. “What’s that?”
“That sweet little thing you were flirting with at the car show.” My stomach drops, mouth turning bone dry. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. “Sydney Rakestraw.”
I frown, even though it feels like my heart just restarted. “Sydney? Dude, I told you. Jailbait. She’s a junior.”
He shrugs, uncaring. “Seventeen’s legal. And hey, she doesn’t fuck like she’s a junior.”
“Jesus,” I mutter, tossing the clothes from last night in the laundry. “Sydney is a mess. I don’t know if that’s really who you want to get involved with. She’s always causing a shit-ton of drama. She tried to stir shit up with Vandy and Reyn last fall.”
He narrows his eyes. “What, you jealous I got to her first?”
I snort, biting back the response that I actually had been there first. I’m not proud of that drunken hookup, though. “Fuck who you want. I’m not jealous.”
Because he’s obsessed with the sense of competition that only exists in his twisted head, the expression on his face says he doesn’t believe that at all.
“You should be,” he says. “Check this out.” He holds up his phone, and although it’s pretty clear from the jump that I’m watching porn, it takes me a second to get past the slapping flesh to figure out what’s going on. It’s a girl on her stomach, face covered by her hair, neck turned sideways. A hand cinches around her neck as he stands over her, pounding into her aggressively. A queasy feeling builds in my stomach. I can’t see his face any more than I can see hers, but there is one identifiable mark. A devil tattoo, on his bicep. My brother’s tattoo. He grins down at me. “Damn, this girl lets me do whatever I want to her. You missed out on this one.”
“Are you sure she’s into that?” I ask, unable to look away for a reason I can’t quite put my finger on. “It looks like she can’t breathe.”
“She’s into whatever I’m into. That’s what makes it so good.” He turns off the video and slides his phone back in his pocket. His eyes narrow. “Are you judging me or something?”
Yes. Of course, I’m judging you, you complete fucking psycho.
But I don’t say anything. What can I? If I defend Syd, he’ll think I’m jealous and make it twice as bad for her. Acting aloof is probably the best thing I can do. He’ll get bored soon enough and head back to school, where he can terrorize college girls. Shit. That doesn’t make me feel any better.
I suck in a breath. “I think you probably should stop showing people a video of you choke-fucking a high school girl if you don’t want to get slapped with a charge. Does she know you have that?”
He laughs. “I told you, she’s a freak. She asked me to record it.”
Honestly, it fits. Sydney films, and streams, ninety percent of her day. From brushing her teeth to her late-night ramblings and dance marathons, Sydney loves to document every little fucking thing. If anyone would want visual proof she’d had sex with my brother, it would be her.
“Whatever. As long as you’re covering yourself,” I say, heading to the door.
“One more thing.”
I pause, feeling the annoyance and irritation build in my spine. “What?”
“There’s a fight coming up, a big one up in Peachford. People are coming from all over to be in it.”
I sigh and press a hand against the door jamb. “I can’t. You know that.”
“Can’t or won’t, doesn’t cut it, baby bro. The winner’s pot is going to be epic. You’ve been out of the game long enough that people are talking.” From the pinched look on his face, it’s obvious what he thinks of this. There’s a reason he never wanted me crossing paths with the Devils back in his day. The thought of me being more popular—more wanted—always made him the meanest. “They asked for you specifically.”
“I don’t need any money.” I swallow, adding, “You’re not my manager, Heston. Stop acting like it. I’m not fighting for you or anyone else. I’m done with that shit.”
I step into the hallway, adrenaline and fear pumping in my veins. ‘No’ isn’t something my brother is used to hearing, but it’s time. If Sugar can let me touch her, every single day—if my mom can wake up some mornings with that sunny smile of hers—then I can shut Heston down.
I get to the stairs and as I take the first step, his voice rings out.
“I see you’ve got some new friends over there at Preston.”
I turn slowly, keeping my face blank. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Only now, I’m starting to realize that he’s been fucking Sydney, the biggest loudmouth I know. She absolutely would feed him intel from inside the school.
Intel like his brother having a new girlfriend.
I’m expecting it so much that when he says, “I hear you’re getting pretty tight with Vandy,” it takes a suspended moment for it to really sink in.
I laugh.
And then I keep laughing.
“Fucking hell, Heston. If you want to go after Vandy, then it’s your funeral. Emory and Reyn would absolutely smoke your ass.” Of all the people I worry about, Vandy is near the end of that list. Sure, she’s a sweet little thing with her own vulnerabilities. But she’s also completely locked down.
Heston’s face goes dark at this, eyes flashing angrily. “You don’t want to fuck with me, Sebastian. You’re going to be in that fight.”
I volley back, “No, I’m not,” and I know from the storm in his eyes that it’s a mistake—something that’s going to bite me in the ass. There’s no escaping Heston’s abuse. Not for me. Not for Sydney. But there’s one person I’m determined to protect and I’ll do everything I can to make sure that he never finds out Sugar exists.