Page 92 of I Blame the Rival

“Apparently.”

Shaking his head, Vector lifts Skylar off the ground and cradles him against his chest. I stare at the arm muscles flexing with the movement, the abnormal size difference screamingly obvious now that I know the truth.

It all makes sense now. The inflated muscles, the disfigured jaw, the irritated skin. If you know what to look for, Vector’s steroid use seems like the most obvious thing in the world.

I sneak a glance at the cabinet sink holding his dirty secret. Returning the drugs to their hiding spot seemed like the right thing to do even though a part of me wanted to interrogate him. Ask why he would willingly take a drug that makes it impossible to control his temper. Why he would risk his varsity career just to be the biggest player on the field.

But in the end, I decided against it. Vector is allowed to have secrets, just as he is allowed to choose who to share them with.

Hurrying ahead to open Skylar’s bedroom door, I wait until Vector has passed to slip inside. I watch as he gently lowers his brother onto the bed, his touch surprisingly tender as he pulls the bedsheets over his brother’s small frame.

It hits me then, that it would be easy to hate Vector Vin.

The bully who can’t control his temper, the lacrosse player who puts his opponents in the hospital, he’s the perfect villain until you peer past the mask. Until you see the son who started taking testosterone supplements to protect his mom. The older brother who uses his strength to protect his younger one.

Then suddenly it doesn’t become so easy after all.

“Do you need a ride home?” Vector glances at me before looking down at his sleeping brother, “I don’t think he’s up for the drive.”

“No. I’m going to stay.”

“He’s not a fighter, you know. Never has been and never will be.”

I frown, “Who said I want a fighter?”

“Your books do.” Vector lifts a brow, pointing to the romance novel sitting on Skylar’s desk, “Don’t fool yourself into thinking he’s a fictional character who will change for his true love. He’s not some scarred hero you can fix.”

Anger bubbles up inside me, fuelling a sudden need to confront the man who made too many assumptions about me tonight.

“Skylar doesn’t need to be fixed. He’s my friend, not my hero.” I blow out a breath, unused to the bold adrenalin coursing through my veins, “And I don’t appreciate the comments you made at the dinner table. You know nothing about me or my life, so don’t go throwing statements out that are based on nothing except superficial features. It’s rude and unbecoming.”

My heart is pounding as I wait for his reaction.

His face breaks into a smile as a chuckle slips out, “Now I see why he’s so fond of you. Looks like you might be the fighter in this relationship.”

“Just because he’s small doesn’t mean he’s weak. Skylar is stronger than you give him credit for.”

“Maybe.” Vector closes the distance between us with a few strides. Even with my height, I have to tilt my head back to look at him.

“We have a rule here in Silverwood. A rule that I implemented when it became clear Sky would never hurt another person. Not even to defend himself.”

I swallow drily, feeling my anxiety spike as he trails his eyes down my body. I’m used to having wandering eyes on me, but that isn’t what this is.

This is a predator deciding which spot to attack first.

His eyes flick back to my face, a quiet anger simmering just beneath the surface.

“Break him and I will break you.”

“Are you threatening me?”

He smiles then, a smile that does nothing to stop the fear from racing through me.

“It’s not a threat. It’s a promise.”

I’ve seen firsthand just how many promises Vector has broken, but there is no doubt in my mind this is one he will see through.

“I’m not going to hurt him.”

---