It started to rain again. . And it totally fit my mood.

Tray and I didn’t talk as we drove back. It was a good silence, a comfortable silence. And I didn’t stop to let myself get scared. I couldn’t, not right then. Not after saying goodbye to Brian.

When we pulled into his driveway, it was eerily empty. As we walked into the main house, and into the kitchen, our footsteps on the tile was deafening.

Tray went first to the fridge and pulled out some food. Pizza—what else? As he heated it up, he jumped on the counter and looked at me.

“What?” My voice was hoarse and painful.

He just watched me, without saying a word.

The microwave alarm rang and he jumped back off, putting his pizza on a plate. Grabbing my hand he pulled me out onto the back patio, where I’d found his friends this afternoon when I first arrived.

It was beautiful. Sitting there with the rain coming down on the glass that encased every wall except the open wall that connected to the house. Tray sat and ate while I pulled a chair up beside him and curled my knees against my chest. I sighed, resting my cheek on my knee as I looked sideways to Tray.

“When was the last time you saw your brother?”

Tray frowned slightly, I saw he was a little surprised by my question. “When I told him I wasn’t helping him against Dad,” he said smoothly.”

“What was that like?”

“It was rough,” he replied.

“Did you get to say goodbye to him?”

Tray let out a brusque laugh. “Fuck no. Chance beat the shit out of me and then took off after telling me he didn’t want anything to do with me. Dad screwed our family up and I was supposed to pick sides. Dad never got along with Chance anyway, even when I was little. I don’t remember a lot about their relationship. But I do remember them fighting, all the time.”

“What about your mom?”

“Mom was…she was always quiet. Not really all there, you know. I think she was just scared.”

“Of your dad?”

“Ah, hell no. Dad wouldn’t do a thing to harm her, at least not in the beginning. Towards the end, when Galverson got him hooked on drugs, yeah, she might’ve been scared then. I don’t know. I just think she didn’t know what to do with Chance and Dad. They both liked to have us pick sides.”

“How old is he?”

“He’s my half-brother, from Dad’s first marriage. He’s fifteen years older than me. So he’d be thirty-two now. He joined the DEA when he was twenty-six.” Tray chuckled. “Yeah, Chance always wanted to top whatever Dad did. Drugs were so rampant around here and that was Dad’s focus as chief of police; he was successful in cleaning up Rawley and received a lot commendations for it. I think that’s why Chance chose the DEA over the FBI or any other agency—so he could outshine Dad.”

“What about your dad?” I asked softly. Hearing the bitterness in his voice, I couldn’t tell who or what his anger was at specifically—his dad, his mom, his brother, or just the whole situation.

Tray shrugged and sat quietly, staring out at the rain.

“I’m sorry,” Tray said hoarsely.

I looked at him in surprise.

He was watching me and gave me a soft grin. “For…I can relate. I’m sorry.”

I stood and sat in his lap, straddling him. Tray just watched me, still leaning back in his chair, but his hands came to rest on my thighs.

I slid my hands down his chest and moved to intertwine my fingers with his. I kept them there, feeling the contours of his hands, his fingers, as I watched him, watching me. Without making a conscious decision, I had inched closer to him, bringing him fully against me. Then I slightly rocked my hips.

Tray’s eyes had turned amber.

I knew mine were dark with lust, too.

We stayed that way, not moving, but both of us were affected nonetheless. I could hear the rain pounding on the glass in front of us along with our heavy breathing in the room.

“Fuck,” he moaned as he slid one of his hands underneath my shirt, gliding it against my skin.

I let my head fall back and closed my eyes, lost in the feeling of his hands on me.

Tray moved to untie my tank top and it slowly fell aside. He sat forward and pressed his mouth to mine—kissing and caressing me lovingly.

I sighed in content.

I tipped his head back and met his lips tenderly.

Tray picked me up, my legs wrapping around his waist, his hands underneath them, he stood and walked into the house. He took us to a room I never knew existed; however, I’d only been inside his parents’ room.

This room was gorgeous. That was my only coherent thought before he laid me on the bed and bent to meet my lips once more.

That night we didn’t have sex. It was something else, something more.

*

The combination of the doorbell shrilling and pounding on the door woke us up in the morning.

“The fuck—” Tray cursed, rolling out from beside me. He stood and lifted the curtain. Whatever he saw, he froze. He went absolutely still.

And then I saw what Tray always let simmer just underneath. I gasped, sitting up, when his eyes fall on me. There was a cold ruthlessness in his expression. His whole being looked capable of anything at that moment. He looked powerful.

I quickly sat up. “Who is it?”

“Stay here,” he ordered crisply.

I scrambled to the window and looked.

Holy fuck.

There were four cars outside. Each had a guard at the driver and passenger doors, with guns held in open view. At the door stood a middle-aged man, with two guards behind him. Jace was behind the guards looking scary and shut off from all emotion. I’d seen that Jace before too, but he didn’t look as powerful as Tray.

I shivered again when I turned and saw him walk to a safe in the closet. He opened it and pulled out a 9mm and a .30 caliber.

“What are you doing?” I asked, now embracing my panic. I couldn’t hold it back any longer.

“Get dressed,” Tray ordered. “If you hear any gunshots, you run, Taryn. I mean it. They might to want to search the house, see if you’re here. There’s a hidden tunnel that connects most of the house.”

“Why do you have a hidden tunnel?” I asked. I wanted to act like a panicky little girl at the moment, but there’s no way in hell I’d do it. I wasn’t weak and I wasn’t spineless.

“Because my dad was running drugs with Galverson,” Tray snapped, swearing when he saw his cellphone was dead. Crossing to the phone, he lifted it and heard a dial-tone. “That’s good. We have a dial-tone.”

He moved the bed back and underneath it, he peeled back a square piece of carpet that was attached to a panel in the flooring. No one would ever know it was there if they were to walk by it.

“This is where you go, okay. If you hear them searching for you, just climb underneath the bed, and put the panel back in place. They’ll never know. Just follow the tunnel until it ends. It’ll go down. It curves through the house and then goes underneath the pool and pool-house. It continues until it connects to the street a ways down.

“Have you ever had to use it?” I asked, my eyes entranced.

“Yeah,” he hesitated, “once.” He pushed the bed back in place.

“Tray, come with me. I don’t want you to go down there.”

“I have to. They might just be here to ‘talk.’ If I go missing, everything I have on him surfaces. It’s the rules of the game and he knows it. I have so much on him, he’d have to go into hiding for the rest of his life. Plus, drug lords tend to find drug lords. He’d be hunted down and killed.”

“Tray,” I insisted, grabbing his hand.

I recoiled, feeling the gun instead.

“When Lanser asks if you’re here, I’m going to tell him that I dropped you off late last night because you were upset. The plan was that I’d come and pick you up this morning to get your car. Call the houseline in a little bit. If this is what I think it is, you might not have to run.”

Oh God.

“Tray,” I whispered.

He took one second to kiss me before he left, tucking the 9mm in the back of his pants. It was a little while later when the pounding and doorbell finally stopped.

Tray had opened the door.

I snuck to the door, it was still opened a crack so I could hear everything.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Tray clipped out, sounding like he could murder someone.

It must’ve been Galverson, because I heard a relaxed chuckle in response.

“Sal,” Jace started.

“Relax, Tray. We’re not here to kill you,” Galverson soothed, sounding at ease, in control.

“Right, because we do tea and shit like that,” Tray said sarcastically.

“Is Taryn here?” Jace asked. “Her car’s outside.”

I snuck away and scrolled to Tray’s name and selected his home line. A second later the phone rang in the house.

“Yeah?” Tray answered, sounding irritated.

“Hey. I’m awake. Can you come pick me up?”

Tray hesitated a second, then answered, “I’ll be there in a little bit. If I don’t call you back in ten minutes, call the cops.” And then he hung up.

I put my phone on silent and crept back to the door.

Galverson was laughing again. It was a creepy laugh, like a perverted psychopath laugh.

“I see why you’re Mitchell’s favorite.”

“Shut the fuck up about him,” Tray growled.

“You need to learn to relax. Really,” Galverson murmured, shaking his head. “So your little girlfriend’s not here, hmmm? That phone call was nicely timed.”

“It’s ten in the morning. Taryn doesn’t sleep in longer than that,” Tray merely said.

“He’s right. She doesn’t,” Jace spoke, “and she’s not known for being patient.”

“Yes,” Galverson said heartily, “I hear a lot about this little girlfriend.”

“Sal,” Jace murmured. I heard the warning in his voice.

What the hell?

“I’m getting tired of this bullshit we’re playing, Lanser,” Galverson rushed out. You could hear the suppressed anger. “Your little girlfriend was removed for a reason, but she keeps resurfacing. I’m growing tired of it.”

“We already went over this. You don’t touch Taryn. Ever,” Jace bit out, sounding hostile.

“Fine. Fine. But this is why we’re here, Tray.” He’d put on his cheerful façade again. “I have an understanding that you’ve become ‘close’ to this little girl that Jace seems hell-bent on keeping alive.”

“You know our previous deal, Galverson. That includes Taryn now,” Tray said firmly.

“Now, now. You don’t have to raise that gun to me. Just keep it down where it’s supposed to be.”

“Look,” Jace spoke up, taking charge, “keep Taryn away from Pedlam. That’s all we want.”

Tray let out a short laugh. “Are you serious?”

“I know. Taryn doesn’t listen, so…just find a way around her. I got her to Rawley in the first place. Keep her here and we won’t have any problems.”

And how the fuck did he get me here?

“Look, Taryn told me last night that she’s not going to ask any more questions; she’s going to leave everything alone,” Tray murmured, his voice a little bit more distant.

“Yeah, that’s what Brian said, but she broke into the Seven8. So we need to know that whatever she took, she’s not going to do anything with it,” Jace replied, tense.

Tray remarked, “She stole some tickets to a concert you’re having there. That’s it. She stole ‘em for someone else.”

There was a moment of silence. “Are you kidding me?” Jace asked in disbelief.

“Jace,” Galverson spoke up, “could this possibly be true?”

“Fuck. Yeah, she does shit like that,” Jace cursed.

“It doesn’t matter, she’s a loose cannon and she has the capability to get inside places I don’t want her,” Galverson explained in a patronizing tone. “I don’t like that. I’ve already had my balls handed to me by a kid once. I’d prefer that it not happen again.” I could hear the barely controlled patience in his voice.

I waited with bated breath for Galverson’s next move.

“Keep Taryn away from Pedlam. It’s for her own good,” Jace ordered.

“I’ll keep her out,” Tray shot back. He was furious.

“And as long as you do that, we shouldn’t have a problem. Should we?” Jace shot back, equally enraged.

The two hated each other. I didn’t see that the last time they were in each other’s company. They barely acted like they knew each other.

“Fine. We have an understanding,” Galverson said soothingly. “Now, Jace, I’d like a moment in private with Tray. It’s a family matter.”

“Fine,” Jace yielded, shutting the door behind him.

“Now, now that it’s the two of us, I have a proposition for you, son.”

I was surprised Tray hadn’t shot him. That was the second time he called him ‘son.’

“If it’s killing Lanser, I’m in,” Tray said easily, but you could hear the violence in his voice.

Galverson chuckled. “Oh, there’s a little bit of your father in you. Both of you make me laugh. But, no. It’s not about killing a very promising partner of mine. It’s about you, Tray.”

Tray was quiet. Then he said, “I’m listening.”

“You have a multitude of contacts. I was impressed with you when you were younger, but you were too irrational. I feared pushing you, you were too unpredictable then. Now, now you strike me as calmer. More controlled. Smarter about your place in life.”

“What do you want?” Tray snapped impatiently.

“You have contacts, Tray. You have a wealth of contacts at your disposal. I know that you’ve been using them. You know the drug dealers and you know the cops. I’d like to be a part of that wealth of information.”

“You want to know what cops’ll turn for you,” Tray mused.

Dirty cops.

“Yeah,” Galverson sounded surprised, “you think I want to get to know clean cops, maybe kill ‘em?”

“And you can go to hell,” Tray sent his way, sounding assured.

“I’ve been talking to your father about you. He tells me that you’re much smarter than his eldest son. You’re classified as a genius. He also thinks you have a thing with authority. You don’t like it. In fact, Mitchell tells me that you hate authority, you always have.”

Tray was quiet, listening.

“I’d like for you to come work for me. You’d be a first sergeant. You’d work over Jace.”

“I’d be his boss?” Tray asked.

“Yes.”

“Until he learned everything I know, and then he’d kill me.”

“I’m not as stupid as you think I am, Tray, since I let you live so long ago. No, I only let you live because you were Mitchell’s kid. I could stop anything you sent out. I have agents and police in every level of the government. I let you live because you were just a kid. And because you don’t buy into this right/wrong bullshit. I saw that you only wanted to be left alone. I saw that and I knew that you’d hold up your end of the deal. I won’t kill your father and you won’t leak anything on me.”

That was news to me.

“You can kill my father all you want. In fact, if I ever see him again, I’ll follow out on my threat,” Tray said silkily, his voice sending a shiver down my spine.”

But it wasn’t from fear this time.

“You have another weakness, Galverson,” Tray murmured. A second later he continued, “You love your daughter. That’s a problem for you.”

It was silent again.

“You wouldn’t touch her,” Galverson replied sounding close to the edge of losing his temper. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“You underestimated me last time too,” Tray said smoothly.

“You, little piece of—no. I know what you’re doing. It’s that authority thing again, isn’t it? Your father was dead-on. You’re ‘reacting.’ He said you do that a lot.” He actually laughed. “You’re a keeper, that’s for sure. But seriously, think about my proposition. I could make you a very wealthy man.”

“You already did,” Tray said, sounding bored. I knew he was anything but.

“That’s true, isn’t it. Alright, think about my proposal and get back to me. No time limit.” I heard the door open. “And Tray, if you ever think of touching my daughter, I will not hesitate to send my men after your brother.”

“I haven’t spoken to my family for four years. I could care less what you do to them.” Then Tray slammed the door and locked it.

I crawled into bed. And huddled there, my hands trembling. I looked up and met Tray’s eyes when he entered the room.

He shut the door and leaned against it. Then slid down, his hands in his hair.

“Fuck,” he bit out.

Fuck.

“Tray—” I started, my voice shaking.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he cut me off roughly. He stayed in place, on the floor, cradling his head.

“Tray—” I started again. I slipped off the bed and knelt before him. I pulled his hands away and dropped them in shock. His eyes were dilated, a shocking color stood in their normal hazel color.

“What are you…are you on something?”

“No,” he pushed me away, “just stay away. I told you I don’t want to talk about it.” He got up and left, darting out of the house. I heard the patio door slam shut behind him. I moved to a bedroom with windows that overlooked the pool area. Looking through them, I saw the door to the storage building slam shut.

I stayed by the window, just breathing in and out, trying to calm my nerves. But Tray didn’t come out.

I waited and no Tray.

After ten minutes, I let out a breath and moved away from the window.

I went downstairs and went to the pool house. When I got onto the patio, I stopped in shock. I could hear pounding sounds coming from the storage shed he ran into.

I wanted to go see, but instead I moved into the pool house. I showered and changed into some new clothes. I pulled my cell charger out of my bag and plugged it in. Then I remembered Tray’s phone. I went back into the house, still hearing the sounds, and found his cell in the bedroom. After I plugged it into its charger in the pool house, I stood uncertainly in the doorway.

He was still in the storage shed.

I finally gave into temptation and moved to the door. There weren’t any windows, so I had to open the door to see inside.

Inside was a punching bag, and Tray had stripped down to his waist. He was beating the shit out of that bag. Every now and then, he’d rear back for a hard uppercut. I caught a glimpse of his knuckles. They were bleeding.

I crossed to him, and readied myself for what I was about to do. When I reached out and grabbed his arms from behind, I held on.

“Stop,” I spoke, gritting my teeth.

“Get off me,” Tray snapped, trying to shrug me off.

I held on.

“Stop it,” I bit out again, starting to get pissed.

“Taryn,” he warned, “I gave you space when you needed it.”

“Yeah, well, that was when we were just screwing each other. We did not screw last night and we haven’t been doing that for a while.”

“Shut up,” he replied harshly.

“Stop it. You’re starting to scare me.” He wasn’t, but I wanted him to stop, so I lied.

“Taryn,” Tray cursed at me.

“This is not cathartic. This just makes it worse.”

“Says who?” Now he’d turned to infantile arguments.

I shot back, “Says our psych teacher.”

I was right and we both knew it.

“Get off me.” He finally managed to shove me away, but he didn’t go back to trying to murder the bag. He glared at me and stated, “I’m not talking about it. Not yet.”

“Fine. But stop that stupid shit. It doesn’t help.” I gestured to the bag. “And we are talking when you calm down.”

“I don’t want to hear about you saying ‘goodbye’ to your ex,” he threw back.

I wasn’t really keen on talking about Brian with him either.

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

Tray swore, sighed, and then grumbled, “Since when do we talk?”

“Since I’m admitting that we’re in an actual relationship. And we are,” I said firmly, seeing him roll his eyes. But he didn’t argue.

“I’m going to take a shower,” Tray remarked, rolling his shoulders.

*

I went to the kitchen to make some coffee. Hunting around the shelves, in the vicinity of where you would put the coffee pot, I cursed as my eyes fell on the sale-tag that was still on the coffee pot. Who buys a coffee machine and doesn’t use it?

When the doorbell rang, I jumped.

When it peeled again, I looked behind me, helpless. Like Tray was going to materialize suddenly. But he didn’t. He was still showering, or changing. Not there, which is where I needed him.

After the third time, a hand pounded on the door. I moved to the foyer and paused, still terrified. Who could blame me?

“Come on, come on, come on. I know you’re in there.” That definitely did not sound like Jace or Galverson.

I blew out a breath of relief and opened the door.

Mandy breezed past me.

Following her into the kitchen, I heard her say, without preamble, “Everyone’s skipping today. I couldn’t believe it. I thought I’d be a good daughter, you know, like you were the other day, and boy do I regret that now. I actually went to school this morning and had, like, four people in class. Seriously. One of them was your friend Molly what’s-her-face. She asked where you were, by the way, and I told her you were probably here. You and Tray left early last night. I saw that Gentley guy and your ex. I figured that was why you guys escaped.”

Mandy opened the fridge and pulled out some bagels and cream cheese.

“Where’s Tray?”

“Showering.”

Wait.

“Does that mean everyone’s coming over?” I asked, slightly alarmed.

“Well, yeah.” Mandy shrugged, spreading cream cheese on her bagel. “It’s what we do, especially when we skip. Duh.”

“It’s…oh…this isn’t a good time.”

“What do you mean?” Mandy grabbed the juice next, pouring herself a cup. “You want a cup?”

“No. I want…” I was at a loss for words. I got the feeling Mandy was just the warm-up. In about an hour, this place would be full of people.

When wasn’t there?

“Oh,” Mandy exclaimed, “Casners is looking for you. She’s got a beef with you or something. I would too after what you did last night. Thanks, Tristan was a treat the rest of the night. In between her make-out sessions with Garrett, that is.”

I had her tickets. No way was she going to pick a fight with me.

“What are you talking about?” I was tired. I’d been scared shitless this morning, for my life and Tray’s, so sue me if I wasn’t following along with this conversation.

“You know, her and Tristan. They’re, like, mortal enemies, by the way. Good job.”

“Oh.” That’s right.

“Tristan still has no clue, though. No one’s had the heart to tell her why Casners went after her last night.”

I was having a hard time caring.

“Oh.” Should I ask and pretend to care? “What happened?”

“You mean, who did Brent Garrett go home with last night?” Mandy was too energetic this morning. “He went home with Tristan. I just said they were making out the rest of the night. Aidrian Casners hates her. Although I think Tristan was really doing it to get at Amber. Those two cannot stand each other. I’ve never really figured out why.”

“Because Amber thinks Tristan is psychotic and thinks she’s the only person you can be best friends with. Oh, and because she thinks her and Tray have a star-crossed lover thing going on,” I rambled, stating word for word—or close enough to Amber’s statement.

Mandy gaped in shock. “What?”

“It’s what I heard.” I had officially became part of the gossip mill. Not a subject in the gossip mill, but an actual participant in the mill.

I needed to escape.

“I’ll be back. Just…make some coffee,” I instructed my sister, hightailing it out of there to the pool house.

Tray was pulling a shirt on when I rushed in and laid on the bed.

“We’re a pair, aren’t we?” Tray mused, sitting beside me on the bed and bending to grab some shoes.

“Mmmm,” I mumbled into his pillow.

Tray didn’t reply.

I rolled onto my back and asked, “Why does your place have to be the hang-out when everyone skips? People just show up here. Randomly. Like last night, they had a party when we were in here.”

Tray shrugged. “I’ve lived alone this whole time. I like it when people show up.” He flexed his knuckles, hissing in pain.

I sat back on my knees, crawling to sit beside him. I reached for his hands and gently inspected his knuckles. They were still open, raw, and bleeding.

Probably a good metaphor for Tray and me.

He grew still, in pain, as I looked closely at the sores.

“You need to disinfect these,” I murmured.

“I have a first-aid kit in the house,” he murmured, leaning closer to me.

I looked up and met his gaze. He was looking at me, intensely.

“So we’re in a relationship, huh?”

“Yeah,” I whispered, studying him, looking for any reaction.

He was doing the same to me.

“Good,” he whispered, leaning to kiss me. I grinned against his mouth and kissed him back.

“That means we talk. I’m not in a relationship where we don’t talk,” I clarified as I pulled away. I meant it, too. Brian and I hadn’t always talked out our issues, and I hated it.

“I can do that.” He kissed me again.

“We’re talking about this morning.”

“Do we have to talk about last night?”

“Me and Brian?”

“Yeah.” He sounded like he was in pain. He probably was.

“No. Brian and I said goodbye last night. That was it, the end.”

“I figured. You kissed him and everything.”

“You knew what I was going to do—”

“Yeah, I did.” He kissed me again. “It’s why I stayed in the car.”

“But we’re talking about—”

“I know.” Tray sighed, pushing me down and laying on top of me. He kissed me. “I know. I know. I know. We’ll talk, just not now.”

I tipped my head back, enjoying the feel of his lips on my neck. I slid a hand up his back, one of my legs moved to circle his and I slid my foot up and down.

A knock at the door stopped anything else.

Mandy called, “I know what you guys are probably doing, and…stop it. People are showing up and the two of you are becoming rabbits. I don’t want my sister to be known as a sex bunny.”

“That would make me a playmate,” I murmured against Tray’s lips.

He grinned. “You definitely look the part.” He kissed me again and then sat up. “Can we bandage these? Before more people come over.”

“Yeah.” I let him help me up. “Lead on, Sir Ass Face.” I stood on the bed and jumped on his back, laughing.

Tray stopped. “I thought he was calling Gentley that.” His hands coming around my knees, anchoring me in place.

“He was.” I grinned, laughing. “I just think it’s a funny name. It’s like a face on your ass. A nose on your ass. And imagine what you would see with your eyes on your ass.”

“You could kiss my face,” Tray retorted.

That brought a smile to my face. “I do.”

He knelt and let me off just as we got to the main house.

Entering the kitchen, we saw that it had been raided. And the number of people had multiplied. Mandy was now being kept company by Grant, Amber, and Tristan, the usual crowd minus Devon, Bryce, and Carter.

“Morning,” Tray greeted everyone, pulling out the first-aid kit from one of the shelves.

“Dude,” Grant breathed out, “what the hell did you do?”

“I beat up a wall,” Tray replied, shooting him a cocky grin.

“Seriously—” Tristan started, scooting closer.

“Seriously.” Tray stopped her in her place. “It’s none of your fucking business.” Well, that’s settled.

Grant chuckled. “I remember when I used to beat up walls.”

“Now you just walk into them.” Amber grinned at her brother.

“That’s hilarious,” Tristan said dryly, rolling her eyes.

Ooh. The embodiment of class from the night before was just replaced by a haughty bitch? I thought I was the only bitch in this crowd.

This was turning into a whole new crowd.

Did this mean…wait…was I the nice one? Oh, fuck no.

“You’re hilarious,” I shot at her, grabbing the disinfectant and Tray’s hand. “Your little show last night.”

Tristan glanced at Amber from underneath her eyelids. But Amber saw it. So did I. I grinned. “Isn’t that why you hooked up with Garrett? To piss Amber off?” I made my final decision about Tristan: I didn’t like her.

“What?” Amber hissed. “You slept with Brent Garrett?”

I half-listened as I bent over Tray’s hand and swabbed at the sores. His hand flinched a few times, but he didn’t make a sound. I glanced up at him once and saw he had his poker face on.

I quickly finished, bandaging him up swiftly.

When I finished, I rubbed my thumb over them one last time. I looked up and Tray was watching me. A faint grin pulling at the corners of his lips. His plump, luscious lips…

“Taryn,” Tristan said.

“Yes,” I replied, a little breathless.

“Can I talk to you?”

“No.” It was another automatic response. I was still trying to catch my breath. “Why?” I frowned, catching on.

“I want to talk to you about something. In private,” she stressed, leading the way into the hallway.

I followed her reluctantly and found myself in a room I hadn’t been in before.

Tristan whirled around and shut the door. She crossed her arms and stared at me, looking pissed off.

“What?” I surrendered, slinking onto the seat of one of the couches. It was kind of a…living room. I think this is the third one I’ve been in.

“What do you have against me?” Tristan asked, demanding.

“What are you talking about?” It was a petty game, but I was willing to play it, with her, at least. It just got her angrier.

“Last night. You sicced Aidrian Casners on me, I know. Erin told me all about Amber, Aidrian, and Brent. And this morning, with Amber just now. Why don’t you like me?”

“Because you were a bitch to Mandy yesterday at the house. You were purposely manipulating her. It pissed me off.”

She fell silent.

“And because you’re just…off. There’s something about you. I don’t know what it is, but you’re just…off.”

“You don’t like me because something’s ‘off’ with me?” Tristan asked incredulously.

“Yeah.” It made perfect sense to me.

“I…that’s not fair. It’s just not…logical,” she cried out.

“You have your logic and I have mine. I’m sticking to mine,” I retorted.

Tristan looked flabbergasted. I liked that word—flabbergasted—it’s a good word.

I grinned, rocking on my heels. “Anything else?”

“I was hoping we could be friends. Mandy’s one of my best friends and I’m transferring to Rawley High next week. I’m going to be around a lot more.”

I laughed. “Trust me. I’d be in a shit load of trouble if I had to like all of Mandy’s friends.”

“I don’t think you’re taking this seriously,” she began stiffly.

I laughed again and rolled my eyes. “What do you want me to take serious? I don’t trust you. Generally, people who I don’t feel I can trust, end up people I don’t like. I’m not going to change my mind. I can handle you being Mandy’s friend. Don’t worry, I don’t like Amber, Jasmine or Devon.”

“But, I—” she argued, at a loss for words.

“If you really want to be friends with me, just be nice to Mandy. It’ll happen then. Prove me wrong, if it’s that important to you.”

I left, leaving the confused blue-blood behind me.

In the hallway, I saw Tray poking at some of the plants in the foyer.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

He grabbed my hand and pulled me closer. “I put one of the guns in here. I need to find it and put it back in the safe. Can you distract everyone?”

“Me? I don’t talk to those people.”

“Just…take ‘em downstairs or something. Or you can find the gun and put it back.”

I grinned. “Actually, I could, you know. It’s one of these mad skills I have.” I laughed, savoring the moment with him.

“Shut up,” he said harshly, but I heard the laughter in his voice.

“Fine,” I murmured, seeing Tristan move into the kitchen, but not before sending a frown our way. “I’ll figure out something.”

“It won’t take long.”

“Better not,” I murmured, “or I’m likely to kill someone as part of the distraction.

“No killing my friends,” he shot back as I left for the kitchen.

I flicked him off behind my back.