Page 38 of Better Watch Out

“Three more families later, I went back into foster care when the couple who 'adopted’ me got in trouble for illegally buying kids. Then Cheryl heard about me through her social worker friends and adopted me for real. Fletcher was already there, and I can assure you Iattachedhard.”

“Not that I ever complained about it.” Both of us look up to see Fletcher leaning against the wall, his fingers scratching behind Sitka’s ears. “And he’s right. He’s the interesting one. My parents were drunks who killed a pharmacy clerk while trying to get their fix. I went into the system and Cheryl got me out a few years later. I didn’t have the same kind of problems as him, and I won’t pretend to.”

But I can tell from the way he talks that just because he won’t take any of the attention off of Boone’s problems, doesn’t mean he didn’t have some of his own.

“I’m sorry. I know it doesn’t matter but…” I take my fingers out of Boone’s hair and lean back. “Also, if this is us having a ‘spill all’ session, I don’t have anything to spill. You guys were the ones who gave me shitty trauma as a kid.” I roll my eyes as I say it.

Boone shifts, looking suddenly frustrated, and glances up at Fletcher. “You’re?—”

“Boone.” Fletcher’s voice makes both of us jump with how much it sounds like a reprimand. I glance up to see him glaring down at his brother, suddenly looking a lot less friendly than he normally tries to be.

The follwoing silence is uncomfortable and tense, with my skin prickling as the seconds pass too slowly.

“So.Jurassic World?” I ask finally, hating how expectant and tense this feels to me. LikeI’mthe one doing something wrong.

And maybe I am, since I’m the one not willing to come clean.

Not that they should know anything about that.

“Still not a Christmas movie.” Boone throws his head back with a groan and gets to his feet. “Jesus Christ, at least the movies I pick havesomeaspect of Christmas in them. I’m vetoing your pick.”

“You’re not vetoing it. She gets next pick, then it’s my turn,” Fletcher declares.

I snort and settle back, hating how easy it is to remember years just like this, when we had our traditional Christmas movie marathon on Christmas Eve while Dad and Cheryl did a lot of last minute wrapping. This year no one mentioned it, or made a big deal out of it. Fletcher just turned on his pick, then Boone put onKrampus, and now…

My heart twists at the feeling, at the nostalgia of the whole evening, but I can’t decide if it’s a good thing or a bitter one. Things can’t go back to how they used to be. Especially with me being so fixated on finding out what happened last year, and why.

Besides, I’m still looking for a flight out of here at the soonest possible opportunity, to get away from the two boys who made my life hell for so long.

“I hate you both,” I tell them mildly, voice a low murmur. Not saying it for them, but to remind myself of that.

Though it’s Fletcher who walks over and grabs me by my hair, pulling my head back and getting a yelp in response.

“We know,” he tells me, leaning down until his lips brush mine. “You’re not subtle, princess. And you can hate us today. We don’t mind the challenge.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

“Wake up and open your presents, snow bunny.”

I jolt awake at the sound of Boone’s voice in my ear, only to find I’m no longer in my bed. It seems I’m curled up on the sofa, in the dark, with only the glow of the multicolored Christmas lights illuminating the room.

“What…” Sitting up is a struggle when I’m still so asleep, and I blink rapidly, trying to remember how in the world I got from my bed to the couch. Or rather, how they got me here without waking me up.

“You’ve always been so quick to drop when someone puts Benadryl in your drink.” Fletcher’s voice sounds from somewhere close by, and I feel his fingers cup the back of my neck. “Easy now, darling girl. I’m sure you’re drowsy?—”

“Youdrugged me?!” I can’t help the indignation, and I don’t try to. Instead I reach back, gripping Fletcher’s hand to yank it off of me. “You actually, for the love of God,drugged me?!”

“Poor thing.” I see movement on the floor in front of me, and belatedly realize there’s a fire going in the fireplace that serves as a backlight to Boone. He leans up on his knees, running his hands up my bare calves. “I told you she’d be pissed.”

“And yet you were the one to come up with the idea,” Fletcher replies smoothly. It’s creepy how easily they talk around me, like I’m not here or my opinion isn’t worth asking for.

“Fuck you both.” Reaching out, I dig my nails into Boone’s wrist, aiming to hurt him.

But I don’t get much of a chance. He surges upward, pinning me down on the sofa with little effort. But I’m too pissed and a little too disoriented to let him do it without a fight. A shriek leaves me and I kick at him, using my free hand to pull back in an attempt to punch him in the face again.

“Ah, ah…” His hands find mine and he grips my wrists in one hand, slamming them down to the cushion over my head. “We can play later, snow bunny.” He sounds much more dangerous than usual, and a shiver goes up my spine as Boone readjusts to straddle my waist, trapping me on the sofa.

“You’ve got her?” Fletcher gets to his feet in the dark, and I see him pass in front of the fireplace, though I can’t see much else.

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