Page 19 of Better Watch Out

They barely respond after that. Just enough for Ramirez to nod and tell me to have a good Christmas. Without a word tothe two boys they walk away, trudging back down the trail in their slick, shiny jackets that have big white letters spelling out DETECTIVE printed on the back.

There’s definitely no mistaking them for anything other than law enforcement. Even without the blazing reminder to anyone who looks at them.

Steps crunch in the soft snow behind me, and I don’t need to turn to know my stepbrothers have closed the distance between us. “What did they want?” Boone is quick to ask, stopping with his shoulder brushing mine.

“I have no idea.” I shrug, all of the information from our conversation running through my head.

“Did they say anything weird?” Fletcher’s voice is soft and curious, and I turn to study his face, meeting his blue eyes easily.

“Not really,” I lie without hesitation. “They didn’t really say anything of value at all.”

It’s a lie, and as I hold Fletcher’s gaze, I wonder if he knows it, too. But I can’t admit it. Not yet. Not when I don’t know what to do with the knowledge of where the victims came from.

Not when the answer sits right in front of me, behind blue and brown eyes, with words I don’t know if I can handle.

CHAPTER TEN

Idon’t say a word to either of my brothers as I stomp back down the trail. By now I know I can’t control Sitka’s lack of judgment when it comes to them, so I don’t bother stopping her from walking between Fletcher and Boone.

It’s not until I’m at Cheryl’s Jeep that the situation changes, a tension has formed in the air I hadn’t noticed before. Boone is suddenly at my back, pinning me against the driver’s door and not letting me open it. “Nah, ah, ah, snow bunny,” he purrs in my ear. “You definitely didn’t ask my mom’s permission to use her Jeep. And last time I checked, you suck at driving in the snow.”

I move to elbow him, and in reply I get shoved harder into the door, his body pressed to mine and caging me in place. “No. Absolutely not. My jaw hurts still, and I’m not interested in getting more bruises from you without the ability to pay you back.”

“You’re welcome to hit me,” I snarl. “See how that goes for you, Boone.”

“Hityou?” He sounds horrified, and jerks back just enough to create space between us. “What the fuck—Conor, you’re so weird sometimes. I want to bruise you up, but not because Ihityou.”

I shove against him again, but he’s immovable, like a damn stone wall behind me. The only bright side is he’s a lot warmer than a wall, and the cold is starting to get to me. “You’re not driving back home,” he continues, one hand wandering down my side until he can grip my hip through my layers. “So when I move, you’re going to be a good little girl and go around to the passenger seat.”

“Fuck you,” I snap in response. “You really think—” He moves before I can even see it coming. Boone grabs me, spinning me in place and slamming my back into the driver’s door.

“I really think you’ve gotten mouthy. And I think Fletch likes it, or maybe he just wants to spare your feelings.” His eyes are bright, and nose cold from the snow as he crowds close to me. From the corner of my eye I see Fletcher walk by, glancing our way and shaking his head like we’re just two idiots doing typical idiot things.

He doesn’t even say a word. Just goes to his truck?—

Histruck. Their truck. The same one I saw in the parking lot of the general store when I got here

“You’ve been here,” I gasp, finally making the connection. I’d missed it this morning; hadn’t really made the connection when I glanced at their truck half-hidden by the side of the house. “You’vebeenhere, haven’t you? Since before I got here?” I can’t help it. Even with his prior warning, I reach up to shove Boone back, and consider kicking him as hard as I can as I do.

“For fuck’s sake.” His eyes flash, but he doesn’t look pissed. Boone looks excited as he grabs my arms in one hand and yanks open the back door of the Jeep. The bench seat is up, and he throws me onto it, crawling in after me and making sure my legs are in before he drags the door shut. The whole time he keeps my wrists in his grip, no matter how much I writhe.

“Sitka is?—”

“Getting in the truck with Fletch,” Boone sneers. “So she’s not a good excuse for you now. Fletcher said I had to wait, but I’m done waiting. You think you can just get away with hitting me, pushing me? You think I’m going to just keep taking it, huh?” My heart flutters, racing in my chest. The air in the Jeep is slightly warmer than outside, but still chilly as I pant up at him, still writhing to try to get free or at least get one hand loose to clock him in the same place I did last night.

If only for my emotional health at this point.

“You want to fight so badly, huh?” He grabs my jacket and yanks it open, ignoring my yelps of protest. “You want to make me hurt and make me bleed in revenge for everything you think I’ve done?”

“Everything you have done!” I spit at him, getting one leg free from under him. I move to kick at Boone, but he twists, grabbing my leg and slamming it into the console so my thighs are spread around him. A groan tears from my throat at the sharp pain from moving too quickly in a position I’d need to stretch for. But he really doesn’t seem to care. From outside, I hear the engine of their truck and try to sit up, only to be pushed back down.

“He’s leaving you.” My words come out in heavy pants, and I hate how easy it is for Boone to hold me in place. “Aren’t you gonna?—”

“No. The plan was for him to leave me so I could drive Cheryl’s Jeep,” Boone sneers. “You haven’t driven in weather like this for years. We both know you’re not confident and I don’t need you wrecking the Jeep.” He sits up, staring down at me and sucking in a breath. “Apologize,” the brunet says finally.

I blink one, then again, sure I’ve heard him wrong. “What?”

“I said,apologize. Tome, right now. Apologize for hitting me, for being such a bitch in a really one-sided way. Let’s be real. It’s because you’re more afraid of Fletcher than me and I get that. I even agree with you.” His crooked smile is anythingbut friendly. “He’s much more creative than I could ever be, and he’s patient as hell, which makes him scary. But that does not mean, snow bunny, you get to walk all over me and get away with it. So…”—he leans down, face close to mine—“apologize, and I’ll let you up.Apologizeand I won’t make you cry right now in this car.”

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