“You’re Hadley mother effing Harlyton. You’ve got this.” I’m in the process of giving myself a peptalk as I stand in the bathroom, staring into a mirror, attempting to get my shit together before I go to school.

Just outside the bathroom, my sisters are frantically running around, getting ready. Everyone is tired, including me.

After I left Blaise’s last night, I barely went to sleep, and with all the emotional stress I’ve been under, I’m beyond exhausted. While I’d love to ditch school today, I can’t bring myself to do it. Not when I just received custody of my sisters, thanks to some papers my mom signed, which I’m still super confused about, since she passed away years ago. Still, now that I have custody of my sisters, I can’t be irresponsible. If I do, Social Services will come knocking on my door.

But with everything that’s happened and is continuing to happen, I wish I could skip a day of school and take a nap. It’d help me prepare for tonight when I have to drive down to the docks to help August Porterson do who knows what.

My gaze drops to my bandaged wrist. Beneath the bandage, my flesh is branded with the Porterson’s crest, a reminder of the debt I owe August—my father’s damn debt. And it’s not the only debt I owe on behalf of my asshole of a father. I also have to find six bags filled with drugs and money. Bags he stole from Axel Maeiriellie—August Porterson’s rival. And I have to find them within a month. Well, I have to find five of them since I know where one bag is, which reminds me…

Axel told me I was supposed to tell him the location of that one, yet he left without getting it.

I wonder what that’s about.

Not that I’m going to stress about it right now. Right now, I need to focus on finding the other five bags. But I’m feeling pretty damn uneasy I’m going to be able to pull this off.

Anger simmers under my skin as I think about how deep of a mess I’m in because of my dad. Part of me wonders if it might be easier to track him down and rat out his location so he’ll have to deal with this. I’m not a fan of being a narc, but this might be an exception. The only problem is I have no clue where my dad is or where to start looking for him, except for maybe in a bar, but I doubt that’s where he’s going to be. And the last time I saw him was a couple of days ago, when he hit me.

My gaze travels to my reflection, travels across the fading bruise on my hairline and cheek, remnants of the fight my dad and I got into. I have dark circles underneath my eyes and my wrist burns like a mother effer. I tried to put a bit of makeup on to cover up my haggard appearance, but it didn’t work very well. My long, brown hair doesn’t look too bad, though, swept to the side in a tangled mess of waves. Since I haven’t had time to do laundry, I threw on the only outfit that was clean; a black t-shirt and a pair of matching torn jeans. And yeah, I realize I’m sporting the Portersons dark clothing style, but it was either wear this or dig something out of the hamper, that will probably smell like Londyn’s sweaty soccer clothes.

Grimacing, I tear my gaze away from the mirror and head back to my room to grab a jacket. The only one I can find that’s clean is a fake leather one which also happens to be black. Since I’m really on a role I decide to slip on my black lace-up boots, figuring I might as well go all in with this whole matching the Porterson brothers look, something I have a feeling one of them is going to comment on.

Londyn pops her head into our bedroom as I’m grabbing my bag, startling me a bit.

“Hey, are you about ready to go…” she trails off as she notes my outfit. “Are you going Goth or something?”

I sling the handle of the bag over my shoulder. “Nah, I just didn’t have anything clean to wear.” I collect my car keys off the dresser. “I really need to do some laundry soon.”

“I can do it for you,” she offers, collecting her messenger bag. Her hair is done up in a ponytail and she’s sporting an athletic shirt, along with jeans and converse sneakers. “In fact, I think maybe we should all start helping out more.”

“I’ve got everything handled,” I say, stuffing my keys into my pocket.

She frowns. “Had, please don’t take this the wrong way, but you look awful.”

“Gee, thanks, sis,” I say dryly. “It’s a good thing I’m not really into my looks or that might’ve really hurt my feelings.”

“I didn’t mean it like that… I just…” She sighs heavily. “You have bruises on your face and a bandage on your wrist… And did you even sleep at all last night?”

“Actually, last night I did.” When I was at Blaise’s house. I just didn’t go back to sleep after I came home.

“You mean when you were at the Porterson house?” Her tone is a mixture of speculation and curiosity. “Because you never did fully explain why you were over there.”

I shrug. “Blaise was just helping me out with some stuff and I accidentally fell asleep.”

“Helping you out with what?”

“Just stuff.”

A hurt look passes across her face. “I know you’re keeping stuff from me, but what I don’t get is why? You used to tell me stuff.”

“I do still tell you stuff,” I insist, but I’m not sure if my words are true.

Lately, I’ve turned into quite the liar. Or at least I omit the truth fairly often. But I do this to protect my sisters. This mess with my father… They don’t need to get mixed up in it. Although, I’m probably going to have to tell them a bit of the truth since, a). Amelia and Austin go to our school and I wouldn’t put it past them to say something to one of my sisters about what’s going on. And b). I need to make sure that my sisters stay away from August and Axel. But I don’t want them knowing how deep I’ve gotten into this mobster world. Well, if they are mobsters. That part has never been made clear, and Blaise seemed to find it amusing when I mentioned the word mobster.

“You know what? How about we all have dinner tonight and I’ll update you guys on a couple of things that’s been going on.” I motion for Londyn to follow me as I walk out of the room. “We can go out. Somewhere cheap, though.” I step into the hallway, glancing at the locked door to my father’s bedroom.

Today, when I get home from school, I’m going to pick that lock and find out what he’s hiding in his room. I also need to find a better paying job, amongst a thousand other things.

Goddammit, how am I going to handle all of this?

You’re just going to have to, Hadley. Suck it the hell up.

“Okay.” The hurt in Londyn’s eyes alleviates a bit. “Where do you want to go?”

“Let me ask around and see what’s good,” I say as we start down the stairs. “Maybe I can ask Scarlett.”

Londyn’s brows dip in confusion. “Scarlett, as in the Porterson brother’s sister?”

“Yeah, I went to lunch with her yesterday. She’s pretty cool, kind of like me.” I flash her a grin and she rolls her eyes, but smiles. “I think you’ll get along with her. I mean, she’s a lot like me so…” I shrug.

“Okay, well, how about you invite her to eat lunch with us sometime so we can get to know her.”

“I’ll see if she’s down for it.” As I reach the bottom of the stairway, my phone vibrates from inside my pocket.

I dig it out as Londyn squeezes by me and heads into the kitchen. Once I see who the message is from, I’m glad Londyn isn’t close enough to see it.

August: Just a reminder about tonight. Don’t be late and don’t forget the package. I’ll message you when it’s time to open it. And remember, you have a lot riding on this.

“Fuck,” I mutter underneath my breath.

“Uh oh, she’s already swearing,” Bailey remarks from behind me. When I turn around, she grins at me, but then frowns. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing.” I shake off my irritation and stuff my phone into my pocket. “Are you ready to go to school?”

“Nah, I’m all dressed up like this to take a nap.” She smirks as she gestures at her outfit, a pair of torn jeans, clunky boots, and a purple shirt. Her hair is done and her eyes are lined with eyeliner.

I can’t help but smile. “All right, smartass, go get some breakfast and then we’ll leave.”

She salutes me. “Yes, boss.”

She seems in a good mood today, but she also seemed okay when she was dropped off by the social worker… whoever the hell the woman was that dropped off my sisters at the house this morning. Londyn seemed okay too. It’s Payton I’m worried about. She seemed off, distant, very un-Payton like.

“Where’s Payton?” I ask as Bailey walks by me.

“She’s still getting ready.” A frown tugs at her lips. “She’s still in a shitty mood too… I’ve been trying to get her to tell me why, but she gets more pissed off the more I ask.”

“She’s probably just upset about getting hauled off by social services. I’m sure in a couple of days, when everything gets back to normal, she’ll be back to her smiling self.” Normal? As if there was ever such a thing in our lives.

Bailey must think the same thing too because she mutters, “What’s normal?”

I sigh as she trudges off to the kitchen, her mood plummeting. With another sigh, I turn to go back upstairs and find Payton. But she’s at the top of the stairway as I turn around, and she starts stomping down the stairs toward me. And when I say stomping, I mean stomping, like an angry troll.

“What’s with the frown, Charlie Brown,” I joke, hoping she’ll at least crack a smile.

Instead, she gives me the dirtiest look ever. “Cut the fake smiles shit out. I’m not in the mood for it this morning.”

Okay. Clearly something is bothering her. Londyn and Bailey suggested that perhaps something happened to her at the group home, but getting Payton to open up is going to be complicated.

I raise my hands in front of me. “I’ll back off for now. But if you ever want to talk, just know that I’m here.”

“Why? Because you’re our new mom,” she sneers.

My lips pull downward. “I’m not your new mom… I could never replace mom… I’m just trying to help.”

She rolls her eyes again then nudges me out of the way. “You should try helping yourself first.”

I internally sigh. Something bad must have happened at that group home. Well, either that or maybe someone told her what’s going on with me. After all, when Austin hauled me away from school to go meet his dad, he said he knew a few guys in the group home that would punish my sisters if I wasn’t cooperative.

“Pay… Did something happen while you were at the group home?” I ask, following after her.

“No,” she snaps. “Just leave me the hell alone.” She snatches a granola bar out of Bailey’s hand and storms out of the house, slamming the door.

I glance at Bailey and Londyn, whose shocked expressions mirror mine.

“She’s in a really bad mood,” Londyn says, glancing worriedly at me.

I nod. “I think we should all keep an eye on her and see if we can figure out why. But don’t be too pushy. I don’t want to upset her more.”

“I completely agree. The last time she got like this and we were too pushy, she ended up…” Bailey doesn’t finish, but I know what she’s going to say.

The last time that happened, I found myself in a somewhat similar situation as what Blaise was in the other day with Alex. Payton wasn’t doing hardcore drugs or anything like that, but she spent days partying hard and hanging out with sketchy people until finally I tracked her down and dragged her back home. She never admitted the reason behind her rebelliousness, even after I spent weeks trying to get the truth out of her. My mom probably would’ve succeeded, which makes me feel like a failure.

“You’re not a failure,” Londyn tells me as she grabs a couple of Pop-Tarts from the cupboard.

Shit. Did I say that aloud?

“I know,” I say and she frowns. Before she can press further, though, I motion for them to follow me as I head for the back door. “Come on, let’s get to school before we all end up being late.”

I open the door and step out of the house into the sunshine. My gaze instantly wanders over to the Porterson’s house. No one is outside and the GTO and the SUV are missing from the driveway, which more than likely means they’ve left for school already.

After the whole crying-on-Blaise’s-shoulder thing that happened last night and then the kiss—two kisses actually—I’m kind of relieved they’ve already left. But it does remind me that I still owe Blaise quite a few favors for the deal we made over the drag race.

“I really need to get those favors paid off,” I mutter as I hike down the driveway.

“The favors you owe Blaise?” Londyn asks, walking beside me.

I shield my eyes from the sunlight with my hand. “Yeah. I just want to get it done with.”

“I can’t believe that after everything, he’s still making you do that.”

“Actually, yesterday he gave me a free pass, even though I didn’t want it. And he doesn’t seem that interested in me following through, but… I hate favors and not following through with our deal means I’ll owe him.” Not that I believe Blaise will make me feel like I owe him.

No, after what happened between us, I’ve decided he’s not as big of a douchebag as I originally thought. Although, knowing he saw me break down is making me super uncomfortable. Plus, I kissed him and then let him kiss me. Seriously, what the hell was I thinking? Did I lose my damn mind or something?

Not that the kisses were bad…

They were nice…

Really, really, nice—

“What’s going on with you two?” Londyn asks, stopping beside the passenger side of my car.

I blink from my lustful thoughts of Blaise. “Nothing. Why?”

It’s not entirely a lie, since I’m not quite sure what’s going on between Blaise and I. Confused. That’s how I feel when it comes to Blaise and me. And I don’t want to be confused over a guy. And I don’t want a guy to be taking up so much of my mental space.

“Fine. Lie to me again,” she mutters, shaking her head.

Guilt crushes down on me. When social services took my sisters away from me, I thought I might not get to see them for a while. That I’d spend the next couple of years waiting until they turned eighteen before we could be a family again. But I was lucky enough to get them back, and I should be more grateful about it.

“We kissed,” I sputter. Yes, actually sputter like a dumbass. I clear my throat. “Blaise and I, last night, we kinda kissed.”

Londyn glances at me, confusion flooding her eyes. “Kind of kissed? What does that mean? How can you kind of kiss someone?”

I shrug. “It was just a small peck. We didn’t use our tongues or anything.”

“That’s still a kiss, Had.”

“Okay, so…” I shrug again. “Then I guess we kissed. But let me stress, it was a small peck. Like barely a brush of our lips.”

She observes me closely. “Is that a good thing or bad thing? Because I seriously can’t tell if you guys hate each other or just get off on it.”

“We don’t get off on it. We just… I don’t know. He helped me out a lot and sort of understands me. Plus, we have a lot in common. But he does get on my nerves sometimes.”

A smile pulls at her lips. “Holy crap, you like him.”

I cringe. “Like might be a strong word… More like I don’t hate him as much as I thought I did.”

A grin takes over her face. “No, you so like him.”

I narrow my eyes at her. “Stop saying that. It’s not true.”

“Okay.” But she keeps on smiling.

I throw my hands up in the air. “Whatever. Just get in the car. We’re going to be late.”

Still grinning, she turns and gets into the car.

Her words echo in my mind.

Like Blaise? Ha, yeah right.

Deep down, though, I might be lying to myself.

But it doesn’t matter. Whether I like Blaise or not isn’t important right now. What is is dealing with the August and Axel situation, something I’m reminded of as I turn onto the street and noticed a dark car with tinted windows tailing me.