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I’ve seen these girls have their ladies’ nights. They even have a not-so-secret club name, the Darlings of Disastrous Dating, and I know she doesn’t get drunk off a single glass.

Did someone drug her?

I’ll kill them. Literally kill them with my bare hands.

I’ve only ever contemplated murder one other time, and if it hadn’t been for a two-day-old Sage needing me, I may have found a way to kill the man who gave me life. But this…this feeling inside me now is stronger than any of the bitter venom I had for Darren Wells. This is all-consuming and wild—it’s terrifying because I’m being irrational.

I’m never irrational, yet here I am, wondering if my own goddamn family drugged her.

Get a grip, man.

“Glass,” she says, pulling me, at least momentarily, from my rage spiral. “But I haven’t eaten in a day…or…” She raises her hand and starts holding up fingers. With each digit she extends, the ferocity of my emotions grows spikes, then blades, then full swords edged with pain.

She settles on four fingers.

“You haven’t eaten in four goddamn days? Why?”

That can’t be true. I’ve seen her…fuck. Haven’t I seen her eat? She’s had plates of food. I’ve seen her hand move to her mouth. Have I actually seen her eat anything since we played Twister though?

“Savannah, why the hell haven’t you eaten in four days?”

“Shh. You don’t have to yell.” Clover stumbles into the room. Now she’s a lightweight, so I’m not surprised to see her tipsy as hell from one glass of wine, but Savvy? This is…this is something different, and it’s settling in my gut like curdled milk. “Here, Sav. Remember, you promised.”

I stand to the side, as Clover sways her way over to Savvy and hands her a small package, then goes merrily back the way she came.

That’s it. Wine nights are officially banned.

Savvy lifts something in front of her face and squints one eye at the package, then smiles as she attempts to open it.

I survey the scene for exactly ten seconds, then rip the package from her hand. It’s…graham crackers. Two to be exact, in packaging like they came straight from a hospital. Two tiny squares.

Is this what she subsists on?

They crush between my fingers as I hold them in the air. “This is what you’re going to eat? Two damn crackers that have…” Bringing the package closer to my face, I read the nutritional value. “Sixty calories, Monroe?”

Is she out of her fucking tits?

She makes a grabby motion with her hands. “Mm, yeah. Gimme, gimme.”

“Absolutely not. If you won’t take care of yourself, then I will.”

I lift her easily, too easily. Now that I know what I know, bitter acid gurgles in the back of my throat.

“Ooh, is this how you flirt?” She places her head on my shoulder as I cradle her to my chest and opt for the back stairs that lead straight to the kitchen.

“No,” I grunt as my elbow slams into the railing. Fuck, that hurt.

“Ah. Because you don’t know how to flirt.” The sadness in her words gives me pause. Is she feeling sad…for me?

“No, sweetheart, it’s not that I don’t know how to flirt. It’s because if I flirt with you, I’ll be forced to fantasize about your moans without acting on them, and I’m not that noble.” I take the rest of the stairs, ensuring I don’t slam her into a wall. “The one thing you’ll learn about me is that I’m a man of action, and my actions will always speak louder than shallow words filled with empty promises,” I say as we step into the kitchen.

“Now yer learning.” Pops slams the refrigerator door closed, but he still has a spoonful of Madi’s triple berry pie.

“Pops, I know this is your place, but get out of the kitchen before I tell Madi you’re the one sneaking in here at night to take bites of her desserts. It’s disgusting, by the way—get a fucking slice like everyone else.”

He shoves the giant serving spoon into his mouth, then licks it clean before moseying out of the kitchen. The pain in the ass even drops the spoon into his back pocket, and now I’ll never be able to eat leftover dessert again.

I gently place Savvy in an island chair, then head to the swinging door Pops just exited and lock it. I bet Madi put this deadbolt on here just to keep him out after he nearly destroyed her kitchen with a soufflé last year.