Filthy English

“You can’t eat and this might help.”

Her face softened. “Oh? Is that a milkshake?”

“Yeah. Ours are different from the US—less sugary and thinner. Maybe not what you’re used to, but it’s got some protein to fill you up if you’re hungry.”

Her mouth parted. “That’s so sweet. Thank you for thinking of me.” She opened it and sipped, her face flushing as she gazed at me.

I nodded and sat back down. Spider watched me, a questioning expression on his face as his eyes ran from me to Remi.

I ignored him.

“I can’t get over Evil Chad,” Lulu said later as she played with the chips she’d ordered. She’d been glum since hearing Remi and me describe what had happened.

Remi sighed. “Lulu, it’s not your fault. See? I already sound much better.” Her voice had improved, but I was afraid tomorrow she’d feel even worse. Declan was training for the UFC, and the few days following his fights were always the worst with soreness and bruising.

“I’m totally sick that I managed to find the only two douchebags in London and introduce you to them. I should have known it was too good to be true,” Lulu muttered. “Those accents. The hot Mohawk . . .”

“You’ve told us a million times already,” Spider said. “You’re sorry. You’re a sucky friend. You deserve to be kicked in the vagina—”

He grinned at her glare. “What? I can’t say that word? You need thicker skin, love.”

“Oh, this is coming from Spider, the famous guitarist who hides his identity. I don’t even like Vital Rejects,” she snipped. “Suck on that.”

I chuckled. Spider’s identity was out once he’d taken his mask off. The girls had been surprised at first and, honestly, not overly impressed.

I’d laughed a lot at that on the way over.

Apparently the girls weren’t into alternative indie bands.

Remi’s eyes slid to me. “Are you living at the house this fall?”

I shook my head. “Currently homeless.”

“Me too. Hartford got the apartment, and Lulu is in the dorms with her roommate. I’m sure at this point there’s nothing left but rat-holes around campus.”

I agreed. “Yeah. I’ll be jumping right into apartment searching when I get home.”

“Maybe if you find something—or if I find something—we can share the place?”

I froze mid-bite on my pita as three pairs of eyes looked at me expectantly. I swallowed and took a sip of water. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

Remi snorted. “You’re totally right. God. Crazy, spur-of-the-moment idea. Ignore me because obviously I’m still in shock.”

I grinned, picturing us living together. “We’d fight like cats and dogs, wouldn’t we? You an Omega little sister and me a Tau?”

She lifted her shoulders. “Hmmm, maybe, maybe not. I don’t really care about that rivalry.”

“Hartford does,” Lulu said. A little giggle came out of her. “He’d stroke out.”

“I was mostly kidding anyway,” Remi said to me. “I’m not responsible for anything I do or say tonight apparently.”

I let the topic die.

After we’d finished and cleared our mess away, Lulu and Spider drifted off outside to smoke, leaving me and Remi alone. She played with her wrist, a wistful expression on her face.

“Remi, what happened to your father?” I asked softly.

Her face paled.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me,” I said.

She took a deep breath. “No, no it’s fine. It’s just I didn’t expect you to ask. We never got too deep with each other that weekend we were together.”

True.

“I know how it feels to lose someone,” I murmured. “I’ve been there.”

Her eyes studied my face, and then as if she’d come to a decision, she nodded. “It—it was a car wreck on my sixteenth birthday. His SUV hit a patch of ice, crossed the median, and slammed into a tractor-trailer . . . Instant death is what the coroner told us. He—he was on his way to pick me up from my piano lesson. We were supposed to go out to dinner that night and eat at this hibachi place that was my favorite.”

Her hands clenched on the table. “Anyway, I waited around for him for a while then caught a ride home with a friend. Police officers were at my house. He’d given me the bracelet that morning. He’d been so excited because it had belonged to his mom.” She bit her lip. “Life never was the same after that.”

A sharp emotion pricked at me, digging at my chest, shifting around and flailing about like a restless animal. She’d been through hell. Like me.

I reached across the table and unfurled her fist, finger by finger, until her palm was exposed. I pressed mine on top of hers and let our hands touch.

“I’ve never talked about this to anyone except Declan, but my mum passed away when I was ten—stage four lung cancer. She was dead in two months. I barely knew my father, but Declan and I had to leave behind everyone we knew and move to Raleigh to live with him. Life never was the same after that,” I added softly.

Understanding lit her face. “How—how did you deal with it?”

“I was a kid, so I cried. A lot. Sometimes a smell would trigger it, someone’s laugh that sounded like hers, a favorite food. I walked around with a piece of concrete in my gut for a year. I daydreamed I was the victim of a horrible joke, and she’d suddenly come back to life and run into my arms outside the school. TV crews would film it and then we’d catch a plane back to London and everything would go back to normal—only this time, I’d be a better kid. I’d pick up my dirty clothes. I’d tell her I loved her more.”