Page 145 of Brazen Mistakes

“But you’ve never killed anyone.”

“No.”

“Me neither.”

I stare out the window, wondering in what ways I’d change if I killed a man. After a few minutes, I realize I don’t think I would change if it were justified. The cool, logical side of me would weigh the value of a man’s soul against the harm he’d caused. And if the harm were great enough? I don’t think I’d feel any remorse.

Which is a truly terrifying thought.

“I’ll be able to do it,” Trips says, eyes locked on the darkness.

His face every time he loses control tells another story. I don’t know that he could kill someone, no matter how well deserved, not without guilt eating him up. It’s why the way he was raised fucked him up so much. He cares more than he lets on. I decide to give him an out, should it come to that. “Me too. I guess we’ll race for it.”

He laughs, a brittle cough more than anything. “We’ll see about that.”

“We both know I’m faster.”

He rolls his eyes. “And I’m stronger.”

We drive home in silence, both of us lost in our own thoughts.

Chapter 52

RJ

I’m weirdly nervous when I knock on Clara’s door after my shower. Despite this day going to shit, I still want to take her out on that date I’d promised her. If she’s not up for it, that’s totally fine. But I won’t know unless I ask.

I’m asking a girl out on a date, and never having done it before, I know I’m going to mess it up somehow. Thank God I know she already wants this, wants me, so I don’t have to worry about rejection on top of it.

The door opens, her brows furrowed as she looks up at me. “RJ, you’re back! You don’t have to knock, you know. You can just come in.”

Nodding, I follow her into her room, the tape job on the curtains almost humorous if it weren’t so necessary, the staples glinting in the harsh ceiling light. “I just want to be polite. Everyone deserves a place to themselves, and the chance to relax without wondering who’s going to just walk in.”

She plops back down onto her desk chair, and I pull up one of her other chairs beside her.

“I guess that makes sense. But you know you’re welcome, right?”

“Yeah. I know that, sugar.”

“Good.”

“What are you up to?” I ask, warming up to my real question.

She looks over her shoulder, a little sheepish. “I’m watching poker tutorials. I tried some online chess earlier, but it turns out I’m terrible. My mastermind street cred might be lacking.”

I chuckle, and she snaps the laptop closed.

“It’s such a dumb item on my to-do list, but it’s one of the few things I actually stand the chance of learning solo.” She crosses her legs, and I’m momentarily distracted. “So what’s up?”

My throat closes up. Shoot. I can’t do this.

She gives me one of those smiles that makes me feel like I personally plucked the sun out of the sky and gifted it to her, and now I can’t talk or breathe. Oh no.

“RJ?” she asks, worried by my obvious discomfort.

Get your shit together, man.Forcing my lungs to work, I try to get the words out, and instead, I inhale my spit, choking on it like a goddamn fool.

It gets so bad, Clara rushes away to get me a glass of water.Definitely not what you wanted, and freakishly uncool, RJ. Good job.

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