Page 17 of Toxic Hope
Maybe that’s what I need to tell myself. Maybe I’m starting to get a little desperate by the time I reach campus on Monday morning. I don’t know what she did, exactly. Was it kneeing him in the balls? Maybe he’s feeling bitter because I witnessed that? It’s pretty fucking lame, if I’m being honest with myself, but who knows?
If that is the reason, the bitch owes him an apology. She owes him an apology either way. And if she thinks me pulling her wigoff—totally by accident, I didn’t even know she was wearing one—makes us even, she’s dead fucking wrong.
I don’t have to look hard for her, as it turns out. I’m not out of my truck yet before I spot her car passing, then parking two rows down. What a piece of shit. It sort of fits with her, really. She’s like this fucked-up puzzle with pieces taken from all over the place. They don’t even fit together or make one complete picture. That’s her. Walking around in pearls all the time like she’s somebody special, but driving a beat-up piece of shit that belongs in a museum. Or in a scrap heap.
Before I can think about it, I’m out of the truck, following her at a distance. She’s got balls, walking around and even looking back at the people who look at her. Instead of avoiding them, keeping her head down, it’s like she’s daring them to say something. Who the hell is she, and where did she come from with an attitude like that? No wonder she didn’t think twice about ignoring our warnings and narcing on us to security. It’s like she just doesn’t give a shit. I can’t tell if that’s something to admire, or if she’s a little off-balance.
What I do know is she’s not looking behind her on her way to the library, meaning it takes nothing to sneak up and catch her off guard as soon as we reach the glass doors, and she spots me over her shoulder. “Good morning, pearls,” I say with a grin that widens when uncertainty washes over her pale face.
“Going to the library?” she asks once she gets over the surprise. “I didn’t know you could read. Congratulations.”
“And your wig almost looks natural today,” I counter. A bolt of satisfaction zigzags through me when she scowls.
“Would you grow up?” She storms into the building, and I follow close behind, ignoring everything but her. She’s so fucking strange in so many ways. She might be the only girl around here I’ve ever been close to who doesn’t wear a shit ton ofscented lotions and perfumes, and I don’t know what else. I like it when girls smell good, but sometimes it’s too damn much.
“We have unfinished business.” I try to keep my voice low—I don’t need some librarian on a power trip, making my life even more of a challenge than it already is right now. I’m happy enough there’s no volunteer work to be done today. I don’t need to give Dad an excuse to take up every one of my afternoons.
She ignores me until I corner her in the stacks, where a wall at the opposite end means there’s no escape once I stretch my arms out to the sides and block her from doubling back.
“Jesus Christ.” She closes her eyes and leans against the bookshelf to her right, gripping the strap of her backpack like it’s a lifeline. “I just got here. All I want to do is catch up on a little extra reading before class. Could you just let me live my life?”
“First, you need to apologize to my brother.”
“And why would I do that?” She means it, too. She honestly doesn’t understand what there is to be sorry for. I see it in the weariness written on her face once she opens her eyes to look at me again.
“For starters, you assaulted him.”
“Spare me,” she mutters. “Anybody looking at the recording from the security camera would be able to see you two were menacing me, and I did what I needed to do to get out of the damn elevator. Try again.”
Her spine goes stiff when I take one slow step toward her, then another one. “Do you really think I care? Do you think either of us cares? We didn’t hurt you. And if it wasn’t for you and what you did the night you first saw us, none of this would be happening in the first place,” I remind her. “You stuck your nose where it didn’t belong. You decided you were better than us. This is what you get for that. So don’t start acting like a victim now, pearls.”
Does she notice the way she touches a hand to those pearls once I mention them? “It was two against one. That is never okay.”
Arching an eyebrow, I ask, “Never, ever? What if I told you we were kicking the shit out of the prick who abused our little sister?”
“Bullshit,” she hisses. “Of course, that’s what you would say.”
“It’s the truth. He’s her boyfriend, or was,” I explain. “His name is Brody. They tried to convince us she fell, but we finally got the truth out of her in the ER that day. Then the stupid bastard showed up—probably trying to make sure she wouldn’t tell anybody the truth.”
Her eyes flutter before she gulps. “Really?”
“Do you wanna know the best part? He didn’t press charges against us, so long as she doesn’t press charges against him. That’s the kind of person we’re talking about. And my sister is about as small as you are,” I conclude. “He’s a pretty big guy, in case you couldn’t tell from what you saw. He got what he deserved.”
She believes me. I know she does. She’s not standing as tall. And thatfuck youlook is draining from her eyes. “Then maybe you shouldn’t have taken your personal stuff out on him in the middle of a parking lot if you didn’t want to get in trouble.”
Another step, another, until she has no choice but to back away, closer to the wall behind her. “Would you give it a rest already?” I ask. “Admit you were wrong.”
“Get away.” Her eyes dart around, an animal looking for an escape. She’s wasting her time. The closer I come, the closer I want to be. This is what I’ve needed. To watch panic settle in. I need to witness her realizing she’s fucking with the wrong person.
“What if I don’t? Not until you promise you’re going to apologize to Easton for what you did to him.”
Her soft laughter is still defiant. “Get real. It’s not happening.”
Her back hits the wall, and she gasps softly before I close in. “You really do like making your life worse than it needs to be, don’t you? Are you stubborn, or do you enjoy pain?”
“Speaking of pain, is it true twins can feel when the other is hurt?” There’s a slightly panicky edge in her voice, but she still refuses to drop the badass act. “Did you feel it when I kneed your twin in the balls? Or maybe you need to find out firsthand what it feels like.”
“Why does everything have to be such a fight?” Before she can react, I turn her in place, shoving her against the wall. When her backpack starts to slip, I pull it off her shoulder, dropping it on the floor.
