I throw my duffel bag into the back seat of my baby. It’s a Dodge Challenger SRT Hellcat, my first car since I got my driver’s license a year ago. Sighing, I hop into the driver seat. Sweat still drips down the side of my face from the exertion of today’s drills, even though powdery snow falls around me. It’s late November in New York, so the snowflakes melt on impact with the ground. Still, it’s cold enough. Three long hours of football practice takes it all out of me. And I’ve got about that much homework piled up at home. It all has to get done, basically because half the shit I hand into my teachers ends up being late. Academics isn’t my thing. If I had my way, I’d use my athletic talent to coast through easy high school courses at Boulevard Academy, the midtown Manhattan private school I attend.

But I don’t have that luxury.

I’m the older of two sons in the Knight family. The heir to power, wealth and Big Apple influence, if I play my cards right. My father, Joseph Knight, won’t let me forget it. The thing is, I never asked for this birthright. My younger brother, Jackson, is more interested in the ins and outs of Dad’s empire. I’m just grateful that my father’s not as inflexible as he makes himself out to be. He’s now grooming us both to join him in business, which takes some of the pressure off me. Next fall when I graduate, I’m heading to some ivy league business school, and just like last year, my next four summers are set aside for interning at his hedge fund firm. I guess it’s not the worst thing in the world to have my life planned out for me. All I have to do is walk into the path.

But no one planned for my mother to be diagnosed with breast cancer two years ago. Even now, while she’s in remission, looking healthier and stronger than ever, my brother Jackson and I have been bracing ourselves for the worst day of our teenage lives. Every evening after school, we walk into our family home wondering when the other shoe will drop. She’s in remission now, but can her status change? If so, when? Can Jackson and I really handle losing her so soon?

Our tough-as-nails father puts up a strong front, but we know that’s all it is. A front. An act for Jackson’s and my benefit. Every time he looks longingly at Mom, his eyes betray him. He’s gripped with the same questions we have. The same uncertainty about our future as a family plagues his mind. Whenever Jackson or I catch him in one of those vulnerable moments, he clears his throat, toughens up, and tells us to be grateful for every day we have with her. That whether she’s having a great day or not, it’s a day more than many families get with their loved ones.

As I start my car and drive out of the football field parking lot, I get the living reminder of that fact.

Cherry Buchannan.

She’s the daughter and only child of my father’s closest friend, Gerald Buchannan.

A kid, really. Probably five or six years younger than me, But she’ll forever stand out for me because her presence is a perpetual lesson. Cherry never got to know her mother. Fuck, I knew her mother more than she did. What little memory I have of being four and five years old is dotted with Mrs. Buchannan and Mom. They both fussed over Jackson and me, and the Buchannan’s were frequently at our dinner table, or at summer beach vacations in the Hamptons. Until fate, God, the universe, or bad luck gave the Buchannan’s a giant ‘fuck you’ and took Cherry’s mother away during childbirth.

Cherry is sitting on the top step, shivering near the glass-paneled double doors at the front entrance. The hood of her winter jacket is pulled over her head, shielding most of her auburn hair from the falling snow. She looks so small and fragile in front of this ominously historic structure. Tan and cream red brick mixed in with ancient archways and tall steeples all shadow her tiny frame, and I can’t help but feel for her. The urge to protect her temporarily overcomes me, and I have to shake my head to stop myself from going overboard with all this emotional shit.

I stop the car behind the black SUV parked at the curb, presumably waiting for her. Putting my car in neutral with the handbrake up, I step one foot onto the pavement and look at her over the roof of my car.

“Hey.”

“Hi, Jace.”

“It’s getting dark.” She nods. “What are you doing?”

She glances over in my direction just for a second, flashing those big, bright, electric blue-green eyes at me, then returns her gaze down to her hands.

“Waiting for my father,” she mutters.

“It’s fucking cold out.” I nod toward the black SUV in front of my car. “Isn’t this your driver?”

“Yes, but Dad said he’d be here.”

“How long have you been waiting?”

“About an hour.” She looks down at her watch. “Maybe closer to two.”

“You’ll freeze your scrawny ass off out here, Cherry. Go home with your driver.”

She shakes her head. “No. I’m not going there until Dad comes for me.”

“Why the hell not?” I demand, already getting impatient.

“Kiki’s home.”

Well, that explains a lot. Kiki is the hot, young bombshell that Gerald picked up from God knows where—probably a Vegas strip club—and married her within what seemed like minutes. She’s the third woman Gerald married. After Cherry’s mother had passed away, he got with Peggy Reid, a wealthy socialite who runs in our family’s circle, but that didn’t last. From the whispers that I’ve been hearing around my house, this Kiki marriage won’t either.

“So what if she’s home?” I ask.

“You wouldn’t ask me that if you had to live with her.”

“Kiki can’t be all that bad.”

“Compared to what?”

“Being out here in the cold ass snow.”

“No, she’s worse. Definitely worse.”

“She doesn’t like, hit you or anything, does she?”

“No.”

“Is Kiki mean to you at all?”

She shakes her head. “No.”

“So what’s the problem?”

Cherry shrugs.

I really don’t need this right now. I have a shit ton of homework and assignments, my muscles are aching, and this crap weather ain’t helping.

“Your house is huge. You don’t have to see her at all if you don’t want to.”

“I’m good, okay? You’re not responsible for me. Besides, I’m sure my dad will be here any minute now.”

What I’d like to tell her is if her father had any intention of being here, he wouldn’t have sent a driver to pick her up. But she doesn’t look like she can handle any more bad news right now, no matter how glaringly obvious it is.

“Get in,” I tell her.

“What?”

I point at my passenger side. “Get in the car. You can wait at our place until your dad gets home.”

Her eyes widen at the invitation. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Mom wouldn’t mind seeing you, either.”

I leave my door open and walk up to the driver side of the SUV to let her driver know he can head home to his family or whatever, instead of sitting around. With a nod, he starts the engine and drives off, which is like Cherry’s signal to move. She skips down the steps and over to my passenger side, smiling as she gets inside my baby at the same time as I do.

“Thanks for this.”

“Yeah.”

Cherry leans back in the seat, placing her backpack on the floor between her legs. “How’s Mrs. Knight doing?”

I throw the car into first gear, I roll off. “A lot better, since her last set of treatments.”

“Nice. Are you sure she won’t mind me coming by unannounced?”

“I already said she wouldn’t.” I don’t mean to be abrupt, but the kid should know she’s like family to us.

“Okay.”

Halfway to my house, Cherry leans forward slightly and pulls back the hoodie of her jacket to her shoulders. I have to do a double take. She’s got ridiculously light purple hair. I’m talking about purple as light as lilac, which I didn’t think was possible for human hair. Unless some old lady with gray hair dyes it with lilac shit.

“Who the fuck did that to you?” I ask, assuming that a bunch of mean girls at our school held her down and fucked up her hair like that.

She slides her fingers up to the base of her neck, and pulls out the rest of her waist-length purple as fuck hair from inside her jacket. “My best friend did it over lunch. Vanessa.”

“Dylan’s kid sister did this to you? And you call her a best friend?”

“Yes.”

“You mean that you willingly let someone do that to your hair?”

“I like it,” she says barely above a whisper.

“That makes one of us,” I tell her, stopping at our main gate. I slip my hand under the sun visor to click the remote. “No wonder you don’t want to go home. Kiki will have a fit. Never mind Kiki, Gerald will ground your ass.”

“He won’t even notice.”

“Your old man would have to be fucking blind not to see that…that…all that purple.”

The automatic gates part, and I drive the half-mile or so to the circular driveway at my front door. As she follows me inside, Jackson shows up out of nowhere.

“Hi, Jackson.”

“Hey, Cherry.” Confusion, then surprise, followed by wry entertainment flash across his face in quick succession. “Or is it Grape today?” Our butler is the only reason he spares her the rest of his verbal reaction.

“Mom’s probably in the kitchen,” I announce, because I know Jackson’s just getting warmed up. Only the presence of an adult will help him pump the brakes on making fun of her. “Come on in.”

She shyly slips past a grinning Jackson, hot on my heels as I take her down the hall and around several corridors on the way to the kitchen to find Mom. I’m sure my mother will get through to Cherry, and help the kid with whatever is happening with Kiki.

Except, I’m not prepared when Cherry steps in front of me, tugs at my leather jacket, and kisses me square on the mouth.

I grab her shoulders and push her away from me with a sharp jerk.

“What the fuck, Cherry?” I ask, keeping her at arm’s length.

She bites down on her bottom lip, looking up at me with her eyes lit up like it’s Christmas. “I’ve always wanted to do that.”

“Jesus, you’re just a kid. What are you? Ten? Eleven?”

“I’m twelve and a half,” she announces with a sly grin. “That’s old enough.”

“Old enough to get my ass in jail if I were six months older. Do you even realize I’m almost eighteen, kid? That makes you jailbait. Matter of fact, you’re not even old enough to be jailbait. It makes this all sorts of fucked up. And wipe that grin off your face. It ain’t fucking funny.”

She cocks her head to one side and flashes me a glance that’s way too seductive for her young age.

“You liked it, didn’t you?”

I release her shoulders and push past her. “Not another word, or I’ll have your driver come over here to take you home in no time.”

“Admit it, Jace.”

My entire body whips around to look her in the eye. “What the ever-loving fuck is wrong with you?”

“Language, Jace!” shouts my mother from inside the nearby family room. “You’re not too old to wash your mouth out with soap.”

“Sorry, Mom,” I shout.

Still glaring at this little she-devil in a twelve-and-a-half-year-old body, I mouth words to the effect that ‘if Cherry ever tells a soul that she got away with stealing that kiss from me, I’ll kill her lilac-headed ass.’ Her eyebrows raise as though I’ve given her the best idea ever. Jesus. I need to get the hell away from this kid. Gripping her by one shoulder, I shove her into the family room.

“You have a visitor.”

Mom looks over at us. Her face brightens.

“Hi, Mrs. Knight,” Cherry beams, slathering on the innocence that I thought was the real deal when I picked her up outside our school. See, this is why private schools need to keep the kiddie division far from high schoolers. I never saw that coming.

“Cherry? No way. Oh my goodness, look at you!” Mom rushes over from her favorite armchair and takes Cherry into her arms, then pulls back to look at her more closely. “Oh my gosh, you’ve gotten so tall since the last time I saw you. And all this gorgeous hair! Did your daddy really let you color your hair, honey?”

“He hasn’t seen it yet, but he won’t care.”

“Of course he will, sweetheart.”

Mom pulls her into her arms again, and I take the opportunity to Back. The. Fuck. Away. Slowly.

“I’ve got homework to finish,” I say loud enough for them to hear as I move off. “Lots of it. Probably a good idea to have one of the drivers take her home.”

No way am I sticking around. Hurrying up to my room, I turn the lock with a loud click and do my best to erase the last ten minutes from inside my skull.

Maybe that trophy wife vixen Kiki rubbed off on Cherry after all.