Page 39 of Reckless at Westbrook High

“You’ll go to jail, dipshit.”

“I’m a bad bitch. I could handle it.”

“Damon couldn’t.”

She shuts her mouth then, quiet a while before she speaks again. “Does he know yet?”

I ignore the kick in my heart and lean forward to mirror her position, not even bothering to ask what she means or who she’s talking about. “No.”

“He’s gonna find out, Wren.”

I shake my head at that, refusing to believe it. Freya agreed not to tell anyone else about the wedding until after we graduate, and I’m sure as shit not about to go shout it from the rooftops.

“She won’t tell him.”

“You sure about that?” she asks, stealing the joint from my mouth to take a hit. “She’s an idiot but she’s not blind. None of us are.”

“What’s your point, Callie?”

“He’s in your head and I think she knows it,” she throws it out there, shrugging when she catches the tick in my jaw. “You asked.”

“Lie to me next time.”

“Not my style,” she jokes, tossing my roach in the dirt. “You’re gonna be late for school if you don’t leave soon. Go get ready and I’ll go make the coffee.”

“Yes, Mom,” I tease, laughing lightly when she clips the back of my head.

She leaves and I move for the bathroom to do as I’m told, banishing any and all thoughts of Levi from my mind while I take a shower.

It doesn’t work, but at least I fucking try.

Fifteen minutes later, I’m dressed in my usual dark jeans and a black t-shirt, dragging my tired ass downstairs to join my family for breakfast. Callie slides me a black coffee across the counter and I wink at her, dropping down in my seat next to Kai.

“You’re not sleeping,” Damon says, staring at me from across the island with his brows dipped in concern.

I shrug, avoiding his eyes while I add a couple more sugars to my cup. “So?”

He opens his mouth but snaps it shut just as quick, looking at Callie when her twenty dollar burner phone rings in the ass pocket of her ripped jeans.

“Is that Dean again?”

“Probably,” she nods, sliding it out to answer it with a mouthful of bacon. “Sup, boss?”

Damon glares and she rolls her eyes, dropping it down on the island to put it on speakerphone.

“..you keep doin’ this to me, girl?”

“Doin’ what?”

“You know what,” Dean throws back, damn near begging her to run his fucking drugs for him. “I need you.”

“You don’t need me,” she argues. “I’m not your only contact with a license and a pair of balls.”

“That’s debatable,” he mutters, sighing when she laughs at him.

“Why can’t Harley do it?”

“Because he doesn’t want Harley. He wants you and only you. Said he’ll pay you double if you can make it happen tonight.”

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