Page 10 of Grave Intentions

“That’s your first mistake.” He stands, leaving his untouched lunch behind. “Don’t make me prove you wrong.”

The plastic lunch tray scrapes against the table as Angela drops into Talon’s vacant seat. Her curly red hair bounces as she settles in, unwrapping her sandwich.

“What were you two talking about?” She takes a bite, watching me with curious green eyes.

I poke at my untouched apple. “Nothing, really. Just thanking him for this morning.”

“What happened this morning?”

“Jessica Martin and her minions cornered me in the hallway. Started saying stuff about my parents.” My fingers clench around the apple. “Talon stepped in and made them back off.”

“Aww, that’s so sweet!” Angela’s face lights up. “He’s your guardian, big brother, always looking out for you. Must be nice having someone protect you like that.”

My stomach twists at her words. If she only knew what our home life was really like. The bruises Talon hides under his long sleeves. The sounds of Mr. Wilson’s belt late at night.

“Yeah,” I force a smile. “Like a brother.”

But the word feels wrong on my tongue. Brother doesn’t explain the electricity when his hand brushes mine. Brother doesn’t account for how my heart races when our eyes lock. Brother definitely doesn’t cover the dreams I’ve been having lately of him kissing me.

“You’re so lucky,” Angela continues, oblivious to my discomfort. “My brothers just pull my hair and steal my stuff. Talon actually keeps the bullies away.”

I nod, not trusting myself to speak. How can I explain that Talon’s protection feels nothing like brotherly love? That there’s something more intense and taboo brewing between us?

But Angela wouldn’t understand—no one would. So I let her believe what she wants while that forbidden truth burns in my chest like a secret flame.

8

TALON

EIGHTEEN YEARS OLD

One year later…

Ilean against the lockers, my jaw clenching as I watch that pathetic freshman, Brad Thompson, hover around Lena. His letterman jacket marks him as one of those entitled jocks who think they own the school. The way he runs his fingers through his hair to impress her makes my blood boil.

Lena’s grown so much these past few years. Her dark waves cascade down her back, and her smile lights up the hallway. That fierce spirit I saw in her as a child now radiates through every graceful movement. But the months are counting down until I graduate. Until I’m no longer here to protect her from scumbags like Brad or assholes like Jessica Martin.

Brad steps closer to her, and my fingers curl into fists. He has no right to breathe her air, let alone try to make her laugh. I know his type—seen plenty of them come and go through the foster system. All charm on the surface, rot underneath.

“Come on, just one date,” Brad says, blocking Lena’s path to her next class. “Friday night, after the game?”

My vision blurs red at the edges. I imagine wrapping my hands around his throat, watching the light fade from his eyes. It would be so easy. One quick move behind the bleachers after practice...

But I can’t. Not just because it would draw attention but because of her. Lena’s fourteen—still so young, still finding her way. And I’m eighteen now, practically a man. These feelings I have, this possessive rage that consumes me when others get close to her—I have to control it for her sake.

I watch her give him attitude as she confidently declines Brad’s invitation and heads to class. My chest aches with a familiar mix of pride and pain. She’s blossomed into a confident, strong woman I can’t help but care for. The Wilsons have tried to break her, but she’s unbreakable. In four months, I’ll have to leave high school and the thought of not being near her tears me apart.

For now, I memorize every detail of her—how she tucks her hair behind her ear, how her bag bumps against the curve of her hip as she walks. I’ll carry these images with me when I go.

Later that day, I walk the hallway after the last bell, tracking Brad’s movements. The idiot isn’t giving up. He corners Lena by her locker, his hand against the metal beside her head.

“Just one date. Stop playing hard to get.” His voice carries down the hall.

“I said no.” Lena’s voice is sharp and defiant.

My feet move before I can think. In three strides, I’m there, yanking Brad back by his collar. He stumbles, face draining of color when he sees me.

“She said no.” I lean close, letting him see the darkness in my eyes. “Leave.”

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