Page 72 of The Rowdy Ones
“To what?”
“Do stuff.”
Rage burns hot in my gut. Hewhat? I knew she was with him, but I didn’t know exactly the where or why. I’d not been tracking her because Uncle Atticus had me helping him with chores and shit. “And did you?”
I hate that I want to beat the fuck out of this guy she’s dating. I do, though. I want to ram my fist against his face until he’s unrecognizable and my fingers are broken.
“No,” she utters, flooding me with relief. “We kissed for a bit and he touched my breast.”
All the relief is gone and I’m back to wanting to kill the fucker.
“It was all wrong, though,” she says, guilt in her voice. “I was trying to do the right thing. With him. But I didn’t want that. I wanted…”
I suck in a breath, aching to hear the words.You. I wanted you.
“Anyway, I stopped it because I couldn’t do it. Needed fresh air. Tripped over a dead body.” She starts to cry again and I squeeze her tight. “I thought it was you.”
Her obsession with me dying is alarming, but I don’t say as much. All that matters now is that I’m alive and she knows that.
“The rest was a blur,” she says softly. “I’m so tired. And hungry. But mostly tired.”
“We’ll get you food soon,” I assure her. “You can rest when we get you back to the cabin.”
Her fingernails claw at me again. “I want to stay in the RV with you. Don’t make me sleep alone.”
As much as I know keeping her near me at night is a bad idea, I nod in agreement. Whatever makes her happy. I just want her to feel safe and cared for.
She relaxes in my hold. Aside from a few sniffles, I think she’s beginning to calm down. I stroke my palms over every part of her within my reach, reassuring her with my touch that she’s safe.
“Were you outside my window last night, Rowdy?”
I freeze, not expecting the question. What will she think if she knows I watched her undress and touch herself? Will she think I’m a freak for jerking off while watching?
The truck doors open, killing any chance for me to answer that question. I kiss the top of her head, silently vowing I’ll answer it later. Truthfully. Wild and Uncle Atticus climb into their seats up front.
“Will was pissed,” Uncle Atticus says, shaking his head. “Went on a tirade in front of everyone on that detective who detained Destiny.”
She stiffens in my arms. I stroke my fingers through her hair to calm her.
“What about Weston?” she rasps out. “Are they letting him go, too?”
“Yes. After the bitch-out, that was Will’s next order of business.”
“I told Unc they should hire more competent officers,” Wild chimes in, jerking his head back to look at me, flashing me a knowing grin.
“Can we go home now?” I grumble. “Destiny needs to shower and sleep. She’s had a rough day.”
“I’m starving,” Wild says. “Can we grab burgers on the way home?”
“Your mom is making food and you’ll eat it. You can wait.”
The rest of the drive back, I hold my sister. I know a conversation about last night is inevitable, but for now, I want to enjoy holding her. It’s selfish to want her to need my comfort, but I get to touch her guilt-free.
“No.”
I glower down at Aunt Eve, unable to comprehend her word. “What do you mean, no?”
“I. Said. No.”
