Page 62 of Daring You

For reasons unknown, Locke puts me in his scope as he says it.

“Whatever. ‘Bye, you fuckers,” Ash says, then turns and hits the men’s locker room without another word.

East salutes and goes the same way as Ash does, and I start to follow, but Locke cuts me off.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asks.

“Totally.” I shrug off any remaining unease. About Astor, my old self, my parents…the arraignment this morning.

“Uh huh.” Locke’s mouth flatlines. “You and my sister should talk.”

The swallowed unease stiffens my spine. “Why do you say that?”

“Because you’re both depressed teens sitting in your black-painted bedroom, writing angsty poems in your diaries.”

I go to the side wall and throw a green tea infused cold towel around my neck. The perks of a top-of-the-line, TriBeCa gym. “Nice analogy.”

“Seriously. Something’s going on with the both of you.”

I cover any clues I might inadvertently give off by toweling my face. “Whatever’s happening with her has nothing to do with me.”

Locke’s unusually silent, and I peek through the white cotton, but his expression is carefully, annoyingly, blank. Right at the moment I think I should maybe say something, he adds, “I think she and Mike are on shaky ground.”

Hell, thank the gods for this towel. I respond carefully, “Yeah, I might’ve noticed she was a bit off about that, too.”

“Not that I give a damn.” Locke pushes open the change room door, and I follow him into the steam. “He’s about as personable as a hot fart.”

“What’s she doing with him, anyway?” I can’t help but ask.

“He’s smart, competitive, from a good family, I dunno,” Locke says. “All the things she looks for on paper.”

I’m living under a secret identity due to almost being murdered, slept with Astor because of what she thinks was a ruse, and come from a middle-class, Connecticut adoptive family.

I think wryly, yep, I’m real gold laid out next to Mike’s bronze.

“She always thinks she has to do what’s right,” Locke says. “I’ve given up trying to convince her being a rebel is a lot more satisfying.”

Except for that one time she fucked me without telling you…

“But she doesn’t love him,” I say.

Locke cuts me a glance as he opens his locker. For a moment, Astor’s eyes look back, a pure blue so full of understanding I almost back away from it.

What exactly does he know?

“Astor doesn’t love many people,” Locke says. “Especially from the opposite sex.”

“Should we do something about it?” I spin the combination numbers on my own locker. “Beat Mike up? Threaten to kill him? I’m all for it.”

“Nah, he’s not worthy.” Locke peels off his workout shirt and throws on a fresh one. “Besides, he’ll do the torching for us. Astor and him are competing for the same spot in a law case or some shit.”

I slam my locker door too hard after changing, but keep my voice carefully controlled. “She told you much about that?”

“A little. Got a text from her a few minutes ago, though, that she was on her way to the hearing. Something to do with those two killers’ bail.”

“Yeah. It’s all over the news.” I throw my sports duffel over my shoulder.

“She was cornered out front of her apartment.”

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