Page 21 of Jax
For a second, I considered deflecting harder. But she wasn’t wrong. I was stretched tighter than I’d been in years.
“Work,” I finally confirmed, then sigh-laughed because my sister wasn’t a wall I could bounce lies off and hope they stuck. “And…someone I’m looking out for.”
Her brows climbed. “A woman.”
I didn’t reply, which was an answer of its own. The pines hissed when the breeze pushed through them. Somewhere down by the creek, frogs started their evening chorus, and crickets chirped along.
“You’ve got…a look,” she added.
“What look?”
“I don’t know exactly. Like you’re already in too deep and pretending it’s an assignment.”
My jaw ticked, and I dragged a hand down my face, glasses sliding low before I pushed them back up. “She’s more than that. But she’s in danger, Alanna. Real danger.”
Her eyes softened, concern threading under the sarcasm. “Of course you had to step in.”
I let my head tilt back until the sky filled my lenses, a wash of gold pouring into violet. Finally, I said simply, “She’s mine.” The words landed heavier than I meant them to, but I didn’t take them back. Then, for the first time, I put a voice to my real fear. “I’ll protect her. But I might’ve triggered something that put her in even more danger than she already was.”
Alanna cocked her head to the side and looked at me with steady calm. “Then fix it.” She was quiet for another beat, then added, “That’s what you do. You break shit. You fix shit. And when the whole world goes to hell, you stay standing.”
My mouth twisted into a sardonic grin. “Ever the optimist.”
“No.” Her voice was soft but firm. “You just forget sometimes that you’re the good guy in your own story.”
That landed harder than I wanted it to. I glanced away, out at the trees, the horizon bleeding orange into violet. In the silence, the last slice of sun disappeared, and the overlook dimmed, edges going soft. A car hissed by down on the road, taillights trailing a red ribbon that was swallowed by the next bend.
When I found my voice, it was low and gritty. “This is different. If I fuck this up, there’s no do-over. Not for her.”
“Then don’t fuck it up.”
Silence stretched, filled only by the chorus of cicadas that had joined the frogs and crickets in song.
Then Alanna punched me in the arm. Not hard, but solid enough to sting.
I glanced at her, brows raised.
“And don’t make me come to Crossbend and kick your ass,” she warned, grinning now. “I know people.”
I snorted. “You know me. That’s all you’ll need.”
The grin faded into something softer, lingering. She leaned her head briefly against my shoulder, and for a few seconds, theworld went still. Just the two of us, standing against the dying sun, the weight of everything else held at bay.
At that moment, I remembered exactly why I’d never let go of her, no matter what our parents wanted.
I slung my arm around her shoulders and kissed the side of her head. “Tell me what else is going on in your life. Any boys I need to flash my cut at?”
I didn’t care how old my baby sister was. I didn’t like the idea of boys anywhere near her.
Alanna snorted. “No. But if a guy catches my interest one of these days, you’ll be the last to know.”
For the next hour, we caught up on everything we’d missed in each other’s lives since the last time we’d found time to get together.
Eventually, she checked her watch and sighed. “I should get back soon.”
“Right.” I slid a look at her tires again, and she groaned before I could open my mouth.
“Fine,” she huffed. “Text me the name of a decent shop. I’ll get them done. Satisfied?”
