Page 40 of A Hurt So Good

“I’m so sorry. Sasha is going to be okay,” she whispers to him, although we all heard it.

I don’t know how this girl can go from hot to cold in a matter of minutes or how she can smart off and be a little shit to this. But I’m finding I like all fucking sides of her. And the guys do, too. I can see it in their eyes. I can feel it.

This girl is will either good for us, or she’s going to be our downfall.

Chapter 17

Arya

There isn’t much to Denz’s house. It’s a small three-bedroom house in bad shape. It’s such a difference from Jarrod’s house.

Nevertheless, it’s theirs. And I can appreciate that.

The guys are all talking and messing around while I stand here, just taking in the area. I was only here once before when Harlon and War brought me to help with Sasha.

I walk over and run my fingers along the Mustang Denz drove me home that night.

“You like that car?” War asks.

“It’s not bad. I’m not really a car kind of girl.”

“Yeah, I get that. It’s Denz’s baby, though. Worked his ass off to get that car,” he adds, leaning against the side of it, staring at me.

“What?” I ask when I can’t take any more staring, and when I look up at him, I see the darkness in his eyes.

“Just thinking.”

“About what?”

“What I want to do to you when I get you alone.” I swallow hard, not sure I want to know. War has made it clear he wants to hurt me in some way, and I’m not sure what way that might be.

“And when is that?” I ask, trying to keep my breathing under control. These three set off some kind of nerves in me that I didn’t know were there.

“Take a walk with me,” he demands. He doesn’t ask, and he sure as hell doesn’t wait. He starts walking, tossing Denz the football they were throwing back and forth. I glance over at Denz and Har, but they just nod their head to follow him.

I’m not sure if I should, but slowly, I do. I follow him and slowly catch up to him. He slows his steps to wait on me.

“My mom lives about four blocks over,” he says, nodding in that direction.

“All of your parents live nearby?”

“Not Harlon’s mom. She lives about thirty minutes from here.”

“War?”

“Hmm?”

“When was the last time you saw your mom?” I can feel and hear it in his tone. He doesn’t talk to her, and I’m not sure why, but now I’m curious.

“I snuck in about a week ago.”

“What do you mean you snuck in?”

“Harlon’s mom didn’t want kids, so Har was basically a loner. My mom? She wanted a kid just for the money, and when that didn’t come in, she took it out on me.”

“Your dad didn’t give her money for you?” I find that hard to believe. War turns to look down at me, and a sick, evil grin tugs across his face.

“Oh, he sent money. She just didn’t get it,” he says.

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