Page 29 of Drown in You

The other Devils hoot, and I shake my head. “Good thing you assholes don’t have sisters.”

“I have a hot cousin.” Damien smirks. “I might give her a ride too.”

Knox shakes his head. “Too far.”

“You assholes training or gossiping?” Wes barks. He’s not usually late for practices and workouts, but when he is, you can guarantee it’s because he was fucking Violet Harris.

I screwed things up with Violet too. I believed an asshole like Trey Lamont over her. I’m partially to blame for him and a few of the other Devils kidnapping and attacking her. If I hadn’t believed Trey, if I hadn’t resented her for Chloe’s death, I would’ve seen that Violet was a victim, not a villain.

Since last semester, I’ve been trying to make amends for the way I treated her. The way we all treated her. Wes led the charge until Trey took over, but I played a role. I could’ve stood up for her, I could’ve refused to participate, but I didn’t. I wanted my sick, twisted revenge on Violet too.

But instead of getting back at me, she’s forgiven me. I get what Chloe saw in her. Why they were best friends. Now that she’s lost Chloe, I’m trying to be the friend Violet deserves.

“We were just discussing how Valentine won’t fuck his stepsister.” Knox winks at me.

God, I fucking hate them. They’re lucky they’re like my brothers. I’d love to tell them exactly how hard I already fucked my stepsister, but Sienna will never forgive me if she finds out I spilled our little secret.

Wes steals the puck from Finn, aiming it at the net. It sails right in. “If Violet was my stepsister, that wouldn’t stop me.”

I’ve got a full schedule and other shit to do, yet here I am, stalking my stepsister around campus.

From the balcony above her head, I watch her at a table in the University Center. Her laptop is charging while she types away, fingers occasionally drifting from the keyboard to rip off a chunk of a breadstick and dip it in tomato sauce. Every time she sucks the red liquid from her finger, my cock twitches.

For some reason, everyone is keeping the cause of her arrival a secret. But like Ma said, we’re family now. So no more keeping secrets from me. Who gave her those bruises? Who is she running from? Why didn’t she tell Ten? What else has she kept from me?

Whether they like it or not, I’m finding out.

Below the balcony, Sienna remains blissfully unaware of her stepbrother tracking her every move.

Behind me, Finn hunches over his laptop at our round table, actually doing the classwork we need to get done before practice this afternoon. The bullshit work for my Intro to Nutrition class can wait—this is more important.

“How do you track somebody’s phone?”

Finn doesn’t respond to my question. He keeps typing on his laptop, and I’m about to ask if he heard me until he points at his screen. He’s pulled up a step-by-step guide on how I can track Sienna’s phone. Only issue is I need to get my hands on it.

“Thanks.” I clap him on the shoulder. “You know, you’re my favorite person with selective mutism.”

That manages to get a rare grunt of amusement out of him before I grab my shit and take off down the stairs.

As soon as Sienna leaves her seat to throw away the empty box of breadsticks, I make my move.

Her phone peeks out of her bag. All I need to do is install a GPS app and share her location with my phone. Then I’ll be able to find her wherever she goes.

But when I grab the phone, her screen is locked. Fuck. I try a few of the usual suspects, but Sienna is smart enough not to make 0-0-0-0 her passcode.

Wait. I bet—yes. I grin at the screen as it unlocks. 1-0-1-0. Ten-ten. That’s my girl.

My thumbs sweep across the screen to download the app and enable location sharing.

When I spot her heading my way with a wary grimace, I tuck her phone behind my back.

I like her like this. More toned down than the sexy seductress I met at the hotel. Not as try-hard as the selfies she used to post on social media. Her distressed jeans don’t reveal any bare skin beneath and her sweater is loose over her chest, concealing her perfect tits. The long sleeves of her cardigan cover any bruises that may still be lingering underneath and the hem hits below her ass, giving none of the guys here anything to ogle. But I do anyway.

Not staring at her is impossible. She’s got the kind of round, innocent face that makes you want to protect her. Bright, wary green eyes that make you want to chase her because she’ll make the most beautiful prey. And pouty lips that make you want to slide your cock between them. That make you want to say something, anything, just to make her smile.

No, Sienna will never hide from me now.

“Luke.” Her voice is curt as she slides into her chair, already dropping her gaze from me to her bag.

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