Page 88 of Wicked Sins

“How much does your Dad know about…Sean?”

I twist in my seat. “What’s brought this up?”

She’s staring straight ahead at the screen. “What did you tell him?”

“Nothing.”

Her shoulders sag. “Thank you.”

“He’d have come down on me like a ton of bricks for letting you get hurt.” I let out a low laugh. “Or have you forgotten the fact that he put me in charge?”

“Of course not.” She lifts her shoulders, as if she’s trying to huddle into herself. Then she peeks at me, eyes narrowed. “They didn’t…they didn’t fuck me.”

“Jesus,” I mutter, holding up a hand. “I don’t want to know.”

But she just keeps talking. “I mean, they—they tried to—but I totally freaked out. I think I bit one of them.”

I’m staring straight ahead, trying to block out the sound of her voice. But now my mind’s churning, and I can’t stop listening.

I do my best not to think about that night because when I do, I become unnecessarily violent. I dropped football the next day, because I couldn’t stand the thought of being in such close proximity to those sick fucks. I’d told Coach it was so I could focus on my grades, and he bought it. Dad bought it too. He even told me he was proud that night at the dinner table.

Candy didn’t look up from her plate that night. She didn’t touch her wine. When her mother asked her what was wrong, she said she had girl-stuff, and then excused herself from the table.

I’d been going back and forth in my mind—one minute convinced I had to report them, the next absolutely positive that I couldn’t. I told myself it was because I was protecting her—who the fuck wanted to sit up in front of a judge and relate a sordid ordeal like that to a crowd of strangers?—but I also knew it was because nothing would come of it.

I didn’t have many friends at Maple Ridge besides Alex, because the guys there are all fucked in the head. They think they can get away with anything, and they often do. Sean, especially—with his dad working on the force, there’s nothing much he can’t sweep under the carpet. And, for some reason, he never hesitates to.

“You chased them off?” I ask, finally looking at her again. Warmth floods my chest as I think of her in that red room, wild as a rabid dog, clawing and biting anything that got close to her.

So not her blood then.Theirs.

“I guess,” she says absently. The movie’s still playing, and a particularly bright scene washes her face with light. That light glimmers off a tear track.

Fuck.

“Hey, that shit’s done and dusted.” I attempt to inject a smile into my words, but it falls flat.

She fought them, and she won. I don’t know why I’m so fucking proud of her, but my mind’s too fucked to figure it out. Instead, I reach out for her and brush my fingertips against the edge of her shoulder. She starts at the touch and sends that azure-blue stare my way.

“Come here,” I murmur, beckoning her with a flick of my fingers.

If she’d stayed where she was, then I’d probably have left and gone to bed. Sheshouldhave stayed where she was, because then we’d still just be two kids watching movies way past our bedtime.

But she didn’t.

She gathered that blanket around her shoulder and moved closer, inch by inch.

And the whole time, those big eyes of hers stayed on me. They mirrored every emotion trundling through my mind.

Wariness.

Utter fascination.

Heart-pounding anticipation.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Candy

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