“Serena’s mom is in the hospital. Did you know that?” I take a step toward him, my hand shaking. “The school’s about to sue her family for breaking the scholarship contract. The only money they have is the one they saved up for chemo.”
Sol has the decency to flinch.
“Her mom’slifeis in danger, but you stood by and watched.” Heat blazes through my voice. “What gives you the right? You think you’re the only one living in a nightmare? You think you’re the only one battling demons when you’re awake and when you’re asleep?”
His eyes shoot back to mine, inquisitive. Almost as if he didn’t care about anything I just said until I mentioned that last line.
“Is something going on with you?” he demands.
I stalk all the way in front of him. Forget the fire that burned this building. The one I’m going to rain on his head is twice as hot.
“What the hell were you thinking, Sol?”
“I wasn’t.” Muscles clench and contract in his jaw. He bows his head. I can’t see his tortured eyes anymore.
“That’s not good enough.”
“I’m telling you the truth. I was just feeling. Feeling all the injustice, the unfairness, the helplessness. I had to do something. It had to come out.” His eyes meet mine. Clear. No sense of desperation. No apology.
The monster Redwood created turned around and stabbed it in the chest.
“Fight fire with fire?” I step right into his face. I’m too short to stand nose-to-nose, but I’m nose-to-chest and it’s good enough. I tilt my head up. “The problem is, Sol, that when you take aim without thought, innocent people burn.”
Brown eyes watch me heavily from beneath his wavy brown hair. “I’ll fix it.”
I turn around, unable to look at him.
I feel too sorry to Serena. I feel too stupid.
Not once did I think Sol set the fire.
Not even when the evidence was staring me in the face.
It all pointed to him.
The mysterious person leaving The Kings’ practice room.
The Cross brothers using Martina as a scapegoat.
Martina fleeing guiltily when I brought up the fire at breakfast.
And Dutch…
“It’s not my secret to share.”He knew something, but he’d rather die than tell me. He’s always been protective of Sol.
The picture was right in front of me, but I believed so much in Sol that I couldn’t even consider the possibility of him being behind this.
Doesn’t that make me foolish?
Naive?
I was so happy to meet someone who came from my neighborhood, someone who got me, who saw me. The conversations Sol and I had made me think that we were more alike than we were different.
Both of us didn’t belong here. Both of us seemed to be—whether willingly or not—caught up with a group of brothers who lived in a world way higher than our own.
I trusted him.
Because of that, Serena suffered.