Wrong Side of Town

With Me - 3

by

Komal Kant

Prologue

~ Two years ago ~

Estella

Tears stung my eyes as I staggered into my room and flipped on the switch.

The light was blinding, and I stumbled to my desk, knocking aside books as I searched for the only thing that could save me now.

My heart was pounding so hard, I thought I was about to have a heart attack. The fear was fading now, but it was being replaced with a sick feeling that made me want to throw up.

My hands were shaking as they continued in their search, and finally my fingers landed on my prize. A black permanent marker.

Without hesitating, I tore off the cap of the marker and rolled up the left sleeve of my sweater. Disgust shot through me as my eyes landed on the marked skin of my arm.

I was tarnished. I was ruined. I was scarred.

I would never be the same again. I would never be the same person again. He had made sure of that.

Hands still shaking, I pressed the marker to the raw, red skin, and began to write over it. Once the word was etched over the disfiguration, I continued to write on my arm at a furious pace. Over and over again, I wrote the same word until it was the only thing swimming in my vision.

Then, finally, I collapsed onto the floor, repeating the word in my mind until it was tattooed onto my skull.

Forget. Forget. Forget.

Maybe, if I told myself enough, I would truly forget.

Chapter One

Estella

Even through the phone I could tell Dad was drunk again.

I could tell from the way he slurred incoherently and said the name over and over again like it was going to bring her back.

Fiona.

But the mantra wasn’t going to bring my mother back. Ghosts didn’t come back, even if they were living.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I tried to muster up some sort of courage, but that name had a crippling effect on me whenever Dad said it. He had this way of taking away all the good memories of her and replacing them with the bad.

I held the phone away from my ear and took a few deep breaths to calm myself. My eyes glided over the familiar pasty white walls of the Penthill Community Center, over the large bulletin board positioned just within the entrance, and finally to the service desk where Michelle stood staring at me.

Michelle was in her late-twenties and ran the volunteering program at the Penthill Community Center where I volunteered every Monday and Friday after school in the soup kitchen.

“Are you okay?” Michelle mouthed at me when I caught her eye.

Concern filtered through her eyes as she studied me. She was one of those people who couldn’t help but care.

Somehow, I managed to nod even though I was about as far from okay as I could get. My shift at the community center had just ended and I was about to go home to this—to my drunken dad who would probably be passed out by the time I got there.

Sometimes I wished I could just go away. Somewhere. Anywhere. I wanted to escape from the problems that continued to haunt me as I grew older. I wanted something to wrap me up and carry me away, until I felt as light and weightless as a cloud. Until my mind was floating somewhere else, lost in a blur of colors and sounds.

“That bitch…that whore…who the fuck does she think she is?”

I cringed as Dad said each word. It hurt to hear him talk about her like that. Even after all these years, it still hurt.

“Daddy, please, I’ll talk to you about this later.” There was a hint of desperation in my voice.

I hated how weak I sounded. I hated that I always let this get the better of me.

“Yeaaah, fine.” The line disconnected and I let out a quick breath.

My head was swimming, but now wasn’t the time to have a breakdown. I put my phone into my bag and feigned a smile as I walked over to Michelle who was still studying me with concern.

“Is everything okay, Estella?”

I forced my head up and down in a nod. “Yes, everything’s fine. If there isn’t anything else that needs to be done, do you mind if I leave? My brother should be here to pick me up soon.”

Truth be told, Nathan wouldn’t be here for another thirty minutes, but I needed to get outside into the fresh air and hope that Dad’s words would fade from my ears.

A frown pulled down on the corners of Michelle’s mouth, but she nodded regardless. She wanted to say more, but she didn’t know exactly what to say to me, the girl who was always so well put together and responsible.

Just like everyone else, she couldn’t quite figure out if there was really something wrong with me or not. And that was fine with me. I preferred it that way.

“Thanks for your help tonight. You’re fitting in really well around here.”

I’d started volunteering here a week ago after my brother, Nathan, had seen an ad posted on a noticeboard at his college. I’d been a volunteer at the Statlen animal shelter for a while and as much as I’d loved working there, I’d needed something more to distract me from my life.

“I’m glad you think so, it’s definitely been an experience.”

And that was the truth. Seeing the local homeless come in for a warm meal on cold nights like this one was affecting me in a way I’d never felt before. It hurt to think that they didn’t have a home or a family to take care of them.

“Well, be careful out there,” Michelle warned as I grabbed my bag from behind the counter and began heading towards the entrance. “Penthill’s never safe with that Madden gang lurking around.”

I paused and turned around, dread settling into me at the mention of the notorious motorcycle gang. “Are they really as bad as everyone says they are?”

I didn’t know much about the Madden gang—I lived in Statlen, which was a good half hour from Penthill, so they didn’t impact me as much—but the amount of stories that floated around about them more than made up for my lack of knowledge.

The gang had begun with three brothers, but had over thirty members in it now, and they were rivals with the Allbrook motorcycle gang. They were intimidating, muscular figures covered in tattoos and piercings, notorious for drinking, dealing drugs, and responsible for the violence that occurred in Penthill and the surrounding towns.

Michelle shook her head, her long red locks fanning out behind her. “No, they’re worse. They steal, they vandalize, and they beat people up to the point of being unrecognizable. If you’ve ever heard a story about the Madden gang, multiply it by ten because those boys are just about the worst thing around these parts.”

I frowned at her words. Bullies didn’t scare me; they were weak and cowardly. “If I ever run into one of them, I’d like to give them a piece of my mind.”

“If you ever run into one of them, I suggest you run in the opposite direction if you value your life.”

I sighed. Michelle was right. You didn’t poke an angry bull in the eye; you ran away from it screaming. “Why don’t the police do anything about them?”

Michelle shrugged. “Too scared, I guess. I wouldn’t want to get on the wrong side of one of those boys. There isn’t a law or a bone they won’t break in order to get what they want.”

Her words sent a chill down my spine, and I felt cold all over. All this morbid talk about the Madden gang was bringing down my already low mood.

“I better get going, Michelle,” I said with a wave.

“I’ll see you on Friday. Be safe.” Michelle returned the wave and went back to sorting through the endless pile of paperwork she always had.

As I stepped outside, the cool air hit me like tiny bullets, and I hurried out onto the street, wrapping my arms around myself to stay warm. The weather in fall was unpredictable. We’d wake up with warm mornings that would end with freezing nights. I was dressed in baggy jeans and a sweater that seemed to absorb the cool air, and I was kicking myself for not taking a jacket with me.

“Estella Markson, you are a silly, silly girl,” I said to myself in a British accent as my teeth chattered.

Don’t ask me why I spoke to myself in a British accent. It was a strange habit I’d picked up at a young age when my mom and I had watched British comedies together. I’d loved the actors’ accents so much that I had begun imitating it and it had sort of just stuck with me. It was one of the few good memories I had left of my mom now.

“Estella Markson, do you always talk to yourself?”

The voice came out of nowhere and I jumped back, glancing from side to side. The streetlights were on the other side of the road, so this side of the street was full of shadows. From my right, a solid figure detached itself from the wall and began walking towards me.

It was a boy. Well, a man, I guess. He looked like he was a few years older than me and was dressed in fitted black jeans and a black leather jacket. My senses were on high alert and I didn’t take my eyes off him.

As he came closer, and the dim light fell on him, I noticed that he had longish brown hair that was slicked back. A strand or two fell onto his face like they’d been artfully placed that way. And, wow, that face. It was chiseled and taut with full lips and a cleft on the chin.

The guy was downright hot and he’d heard me talking to myself. Could I be any more embarrassing? Still, hot guys could be muggers or rapists and I wasn’t going to let my guard down just because he had a pretty face.

“Um…uh…I.” My eyes darted around the streets, searching for any signs of people out and about, but there was no one in sight. It was just me and the guy.

“What are you doing out here all by yourself, Stelle?”

Stelle. The hot guy had just called me Stelle. He had just spoken to me and a normal person would say something back, but obviously I wasn’t capable of being normal for one second.

“Oh…I’m...uh…waiting for someone.” I was still feeling threatened. Maybe he was a distraction and he had an accomplice who would grab me from behind once my guard was down. I darted a glance over my shoulder just to make sure, but the streets were still empty.

He cocked a brow. “Your boyfriend?”

I deserved a medal for how stupid I was acting. Now the hot—possibly dangerous—guy thought I was a complete psycho and that I had a boyfriend. “No, no, my brother.” Then, for good measure, I added, “He’s a decorated police officer.”

The guy leaned against the wall of the community center and pulled a cigarette out of his pocket. He lit it up, inhaled, and blew out a cloud of smoke before turning back to me. “Is that so?”

I nodded, scrunching up my nose at the horrible smell of the cigarette. “Yep, and he has a gun and a Taser.”

“Fascinating.” The guy regarded me with his dark eyes and then finally smirked. “Your brother’s not really a police officer, is he?”

My heartbeat accelerated from my lie being caught out. I shook my head, my body trembling from the biting cold. “N-no. He’s a student at Statlen University.”

His eyes sparkled in the dim light. “Let me tell you something, darlin’. If you’re in this part of Penthill this late at night by yourself, don’t lie to a guy you don’t know and then admit that you were lying. At least follow through with the ‘my brother’s a police officer’ story.”

I gulped. He was right. I was stupid for coming up with the lie and even more stupid for admitting that I’d lied in the first place.

“Just because my brother’s not a police officer doesn’t mean that he still won’t kick your ass if you try anything funny.”

The guy held up a hand in defense, an amused smile lingering on his lips. “I’m not gonna lay a hand on you unless you tell me to, Stelle.”

There he went calling me Stelle again like he’d known me for years. And I still had no idea who he was. “I don’t even know your name.”

“Vincent,” he said simply, taking a puff of his cigarette again.

I narrowed my eyes as the cigarette smoke drifted into my face. “Well, Vincent, if you’re going to continue talking to me then you need to put that thing out.”

Vincent’s eyebrows shot up and he regarded me with this look like he couldn’t quite figure me out. Finally, he sighed and flicked the cigarette onto the pavement, putting it out with the tip of his boot.

He turned back to me, looking thoroughly annoyed. “So, Stelle, is there anything else I can change about myself to accommodate you better during this five minute conversation?”

Taken aback by his tone, I shook my head. Seriously, where was my brother when I needed him? There was nothing stopping this guy from kidnapping me except for a vague threat about my no-show brother.

“N-no, it’s f-fine. I j-just…” I trailed off, my teeth still chattering. I wasn’t too sure if my teeth were chattering in fear or from the cold.

Vincent sighed. “Oh, for fuck’s sake. Here!” He began pulling off his leather jacket and I started shaking my head, not wanting to annoy him further.

“I’m not c-cold. Y-you’re not trying to get me to let my guard down and then kidnap me, are you? Because my family has no money to pay for a ransom.”

I was hypnotized by how dark his eyes were, as he swung the jacket over my shoulders and slipped both my arms through each sleeve. Shivers ran up my arms as his hand brushed my skin. A musky scent shrouded me and my heartbeat spiked.

A slow grin spread across Vincent’s face that both excited and terrified me. He leaned in closer and my eyes snapped to those full lips of his. “I think I should be the one fearing for my safety. You were just talking to yourself in a British accent a few minutes ago.”

Heat spread from my neck to my face and then back again. Feeling mortified, I lowered my gaze onto his neck. There was a squiggle on it.

I squinted at it, trying to figure out what the marking was. Giving up, I let my eyes wander to his bare arms.

I stopped breathing. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.

Layer upon layer of tattoos were inked on his arm—both arms, in fact—intertwined with one another, some images, some words. I’d never seen someone with that many tattoos in my life.

Nausea rolled into my belly like a poisonous fog, filling it up until I thought I was going to pass out.

Tearing my eyes away from his arms, in an effort to keep my emotions under control, my eyes shot back to his neck and the squiggle that was on it. The squiggle wasn’t a squiggle at all. It was a tattoo in a medieval looking font that said “M”.

The realization hit me like a ton of bricks.

The purpose of the tattoos was to instill fear and intimidate others; that’s why he had them. The ‘M’ wasn’t some random squiggle or letter. It had a purpose too. It defined who he was, what he was known for.

He was in the Madden gang.

Chapter Two

Vincent

Estella was staring hard at my neck and I realized she’d seen the tell-tale tattoo on my neck. Her expression went from shock to fear to something I couldn’t put my finger on. Her reaction was nothing new—I got it all the time.

Sometimes though, like tonight, it really pissed me off how people only saw the tattoos and the piercings. They didn’t see me. They only saw what they wanted to. It was hard to lead a normal life when you were part of the Madden gang.

Don’t get me wrong. I loved the guys—they were like my brothers—but I hated moments like these ones where I couldn’t even approach a girl and talk to her without being judged for what I was instead of who I was.

Estella shot away from me, clutching her bag to her side. “Stay away from me. Don’t you come any closer or I’ll—”

“Or you’ll do what?” I challenged her.

She went silent as fear shot across her face. Her whiskey-colored eyes regarded me with apprehension, waiting to see what I would do next.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair as I stared off to the right. “Look, have I hurt you yet? I’m just another member of the public occupying a little bit of the pavement.”

Looking back at Estella, I saw that she’d straightened up and was eyeing me in disbelief. “You’re joking, right? You’re not just another member of the public—you’re a member of the Madden gang.”

“Thanks for stating the obvious, Stelle.” I wasn’t sure why I kept calling her Stelle, but it suited her. “Anything else you wanna add that I already know?”

Her nostrils flared and something in those eyes sparked like a lit fuse. “That you’re a delinquent and you go around doing drugs and killing people.”

Her comment got me all riled up, and I backed her up against the wall. Standing this close to her, I could smell the sweet scent that drifted around her mixed. That smell, and the burning look in her eyes were doing strange things to my head.

“You’re a damn firecracker, aren’t you?” I tilted my head to the side, just watching her watch me.

She held her tongue, but there was defiance in her eyes that excited me. The girls I hung out with weren’t like this. They’d never dare challenge me knowing who I was. They talked when I wanted them to, spread their legs for me when I wanted them to, and left me alone when I was sick of them throwing themselves at me. In this town when you had power, it attracted girls to you like you were some kind of fucking God.

Even though Estella was scared of me, she wasn’t afraid to face me with some bravado—as false as it was—and I liked that. Besides, the girl was fucking gorgeous. Her hair was long, honey-brown, with a messy effect that made me think she’d just gotten out of bed—and boy, was it a turn on to associate her with a bed. Her amber eyes made me feel like I’d just taken a shot of whiskey.

Even the way she dressed intrigued me. The baggy jeans and plain sweater hid her tall and willowy figure, but I imagined she had an amazing body beneath the loose clothing. It was completely different to the way the girls I hung around with dressed like. They let their tits and ass hang out in their skimpy and low-cut clothing. Estella’s easy going style was a nice change from what I was used to.

“Let me tell you something, darlin’.” I took a measured step away from her to escape her scent that was doing funny things to me. “Next time you run into a Madden, hold that feisty tongue of yours. The boys will do a lot worse to you than give you a jacket.”

Deep red splotches appeared on her cheeks, and she tossed her long, wavy hair behind her shoulder. “Don’t threaten me. I work at the community center; I’m around people from bad backgrounds all the time. You chose your life. You wanted to be this way. You’re an idiot and idiots don’t scare me.”

Despite my better judgment, I took a step towards her again and grinned. “Nice bluff, Stelle, but I can see the fear in your eyes.” I placed a hand on her chest, and she quickly pressed her back against the wall. “I can feel your heart racing. I can see how scared of me you are. Fear is a weakness and it’s your fear that gives me power over you, so let it go.”

For a moment I thought I’d freaked out her out into silence, but her lips tightened as she stared at me straight on. Her gaze was almost blank and instead of feeling like I’d made my point, I suddenly felt unsettled.

“Fear isn’t a weakness; it’s what makes us human.”

When I’d come out here tonight after finishing up a bike late at the garage, I’d never in a million years expected this. I’d never expected to run into a girl who wasn’t afraid to speak her mind, despite being scared of me.

We didn’t break eye contact—I couldn’t. It was like this girl had reached into my mind and taken ahold of a part of me that I was still trying to figure out. No one had ever done that before.

The sound of an approaching car made us glance towards the street. A red Civic was slowly driving down the road, and from the way Estella stiffened, I could tell this was her brother.

“I guess your ride’s here.” The sound of my voice seemed to rouse her and she turned back to me with wide eyes. “I’ll see you around, Stelle.”

Her eyes never left me as I stepped back into the shadows. When the Civic pulled up, she hurried towards it but paused once she opened up the door. She briefly glanced back and sought me out in the darkness, but I knew she couldn’t really see me.

Still, it felt like a current had shot through my entire body, leaving me momentarily stunned, as I watched her search for me. Finally, she gave up and got into the car.

My eyes followed the beat-up car as it drove past and disappeared down the road. Letting out a long breath, I pulled another cigarette out and lit it up.

As I inhaled the smoke, it settled amongst my throat and lungs, calming me. My heart rate went back to normal as I leaned back against the wall, trying to forget about Estella’s whiskey eyes.

She was something else, that Estella. She was something I wasn’t used to; something I’d never experienced before.

It was like my life was on this set path already determined by my brothers, and all of a sudden Estella had run me off the road into a ditch. That’s how I felt right now. That’s what the effects of being close to her did to me. Now, I had to claw my way back into the real world and return to my life.

Feeling pissed at myself for letting a girl affect me like that, I started to head back to the garage that I ran with my brothers. My bike was back there and I had a fight to get to.

“Who was that?”

The voice came out of nowhere, but it was as familiar to me as my own. My brother, Tyson ambled towards me. He was twenty-two, only two years older than me, but sometimes I felt like he was the younger one. He was so reckless, so stupid, and took orders from our eldest brother, Ryder, without question.

Sure, I listened to Ryder too, but lately I’d been starting to wonder if Ryder was really making the best choices for us. Just because he was my big brother didn’t mean he was always right.

I tried to look unconcerned as I took another puff of my cigarette and looked at Tyson squarely. He was a lot leaner than I was but, man, was he was fast. During fights he’d be running circles around the other guy.

“Just some hooker,” I lied. “Told her no, so she found some other guy.”

Tyson leaned forward eagerly, rubbing his hands together. “How much was she asking for?”

Fuck. Of all the stories I could’ve made up, I had to pick the only one my brother would actually care about.

“Two hundred bucks.”

“Fuck off! I could get the works for one-fifty.” Tyson looked outraged as I handed him my cigarette and he took a long puff from it. “Besides, she wasn’t even dressed decent. Amateur.”

“Yeah, I think she was.” I swallowed, a bitter feeling in my mouth.

There was a part of me that wanted to protect Estella. She was so innocent, so naïve, and I didn’t want her drawing unnecessary attention to herself. Don’t ask me why I cared so much. I had no fucking clue.

Tyson looked excited as he lightly punched me on the arm, bouncing from side to side. “You ready for the fight tonight, little bro? Gonna win us some big bucks?”

I shrugged, watching Tyson flick the cigarette onto the ground and pull out his phone. “Did they give a time and place?”

He nodded. “Yep, the field past the Wilkins’ house in an hour.”

Shit. One hour. That was all the time I had to mentally prepare myself to beat the crap out of some sad son of a bitch.

That’s what I did. Once a week without fail, I fought in amateur fights originally set up by my boys and the Allbrook Gang. Over the years, the fights had become bigger, any guy wanting to make some quick cash entered—even if he had no ties to either gang—and the stakes were higher. There was a lot more money to gain if you won and a lot more money to lose if you got your ass beat.

Ryder had been one of first guys to start fighting, but over the years he had resigned himself to a coaching position and I had taken over as his key player. There weren’t many fights I’d lost—in fact, only three in my entire amateur career. Lately, I was winning all of them. Guys would come from out of town just to fight me, but I handed them their ass on a platter and sent them packing.

For this reason, Ryder loved me. He loved me because, just like Tyson, I followed him without question. With the three of us as a unit, no one dared to try and stand up to us.

See, the thing was, we weren’t just in the Madden gang, we were Maddens. We were the three Madden brothers, and Ryder had been the one to start the gang. No one dared question him. He was the authority around these parts and I was his muscle. With me by his side, everyone gave Ryder the respect he demanded.

“C’mon, little bro, get your bike and let’s get the hell outta here. We don’t wanna be late.”

Tyson was already climbing onto his bike, and I nodded towards the garage that was a few feet away. “You go on. My bike’s in the shop. I’ll get it and follow you.”

Tyson folded his arms across his chest and shook his head. “Not happening, little bro. I’m under strict orders to guard you ‘til we get there.” He unfolded a hand and patted his back pocket as though to reassure me. That was where he kept his gun.

He’d started carrying it around with him everywhere ever since a bunch of the guys from the Allbrook gang had tried to knock me off before a fight. Since then, Ryder made sure that someone was always with me before every fight just in case anyone was stupid enough to try the same thing again.

See, the thing was, a lot of money was spent on bets. Since I was the key fighter and I rarely lost, the competition tried to play dirty and get rid of me before the fight even began. That way, I was a no-show and they won the money without even raising a fist. Amateur fights were a dirty business.

“Fine,” I said with a shrug, “wait here. I’ll be back.”

“Uh-huh,” Tyson said, inclining on the bike as he waited for me.

I walked past him and around the corner to where the garage stood next to some ugly ass warehouse building that was run-down. The garage was where me and my brothers worked during the day fixing up cars and bikes. We had to keep up some sort of façade that we worked respectable jobs. Like that was fooling anyone. Everyone knew who we were and what we really did. The Madden gang was synonymous with drug dealing, amateur fighting, and crime.

On the other side of the ugly ass warehouse building was the community center where I’d just met Estella.

Just the thought of her, sent this strange feeling shooting through me, like I’d just injected myself with adrenaline. I was a fucking moron. In my world, it was ‘bros before hos’. I had to stop thinking about some random girl and start focusing on the fight that was to come.

My bike was parked just outside the shop—a 1999 Suzuki Hayabusa. The Hayabusa was my baby. It was my life. All the money I made from fights had gone into buying it, then restoring it, and now maintaining it. The Hayabusa was my lifeline.

I climbed on and kick started the engine. The bike came to life beneath my hands and despite everything, I smiled. I smiled because this bike was just about the most important thing to me. Apart from Dylan.

There was a helmet hanging off the back of the bike, but I never wore it. Helmets were for pussies and I figured if I died then I died.

I drove around the corner and found Tyson exactly where I’d left him, except his bike was idling now and he was gearing up ready to go. He threw me a sly grin as I came up beside him and I knew what that look meant. He wanted to race.

Throttling the engine, I nodded my head at him and sped off. I could hear him coming up behind me but his bike didn’t sound as smooth as mine. I’d put a lot of love into my Haybusa and I knew she would never lose in a race.

There was a cold chill seeping through my body as the wind whipped past me, frigid and unyielding. I’d forgotten that I’d given my jacket to Estella, and now I was freezing my ass off.

Lesson learned: don’t ever get on a bike unless you have a jacket on, moron.

Tyson easily fell behind and once we were out of the town and heading down the lone, long road to the Wilkins’ farm, I shifted into fourth gear and sped up even more. The usual thirty minutes flew by and we reached the outer lying field within twenty minutes.

By the time I was pulling up beside the other bikes and cars parked along the side of the road, I could hear all the noise coming from somewhere in the field. That’s why the location of the fights changed every week. We weren’t afraid of law enforcement—I think they were more afraid of us—but we still didn’t want to take too many chances.

Tyson pulled up next to me and shot me a glare as he turned off the engine and got off his bike. “Not fair. Wait until I get this all redone. Bigger sprockets on the front, smaller ones on the back, and this baby will be whipping your ass, little bro.”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll believe it when I see it.” I rolled my eyes at him as we headed into the field. Tyson kept going on about his bike, but the conversation wasn’t enough to distract me from what I was about to do.

Have you ever been in a situation where you know what you’re doing isn’t right, but you’re so used to doing it that you don’t know anything else? Yeah, that was me. A big, tough Madden who couldn’t even break away from his shit hole of a life.

I wanted so badly to get away from all this, but we needed the money. That’s the only reason I did what I did, why I followed Ryder blindly, because at the end of the day this was how our family survived—from me beating up some guy to the verge of his life.

Sometimes I made myself sick. That’s why I tried not to think too much about what I was doing. That’s why I drowned my thoughts out with alcohol. But Estella had said something that had hit a nerve. She’d said that I’d chosen this life. If only she knew the reality of it; that I didn’t feel like I had a choice anymore—that I was just going through the motions to survive.

If only she knew that this life had chosen me.

We reached the clearing and found the source of the noise. There were over a hundred people here tonight. Some people had driven their bikes up here, denting the tall grass at various points.

Ryder was standing at the edge of the circle and caught my eye. A huge grin spread across his face, and I was once again reminded of how similar we looked. Tyson had similarities to us, but Ryder and I looked so alike, it was freaky.

Same height, same build, same features, same dark eyes. Fuck, we even had the same eye color—the brown was so dark that they looked black.

“Hey, little bro,” Ryder called out as he headed towards me. He was the one who’d started calling me that; Tyson just followed suit. “How’s my champ doin’? Ready to bust some balls for me?”

I nodded. It felt like there were thick clouds in my brain. I shook my head to clear them away.

Ryder frowned as he stopped in front of me, and shot Tyson an accusatory look. “You okay? Did something happen?”

“Nah, everything’s fine. No problems, Ry.” Tyson sounded nervous as he spoke. He was probably worried that he’d get into trouble with Ryder for not taking care of me.

“Didn’t ask you, Son.” Ryder’s eyes bore into me. “Are we cool, Vincent?”

I nodded again. “Yeah, yeah, it’s all good.”

“Good.” Ryder’s grin returned and he clamped an arm over my shoulder, steering me towards the cheering crowd. His voice was low as he spoke into my ear. “You’re fighting some noob tonight. Big guy. Huge muscles, but I reckon he’ll be slow. Conor dug up some dirt on him. He has an old shoulder injury from football. He’s a goner. Stupid cunt.”

I didn’t respond; only nodded to acknowledge that I’d heard him. Instead, my mind was trying to process the information Ryder had just given me. The guy had a bad shoulder, meaning he had a weakness that I could exploit. Ryder was right about one thing though. The guy was a stupid cunt.

You didn’t fight if you had a weakness. A weakness was the one thing you didn’t need because as much as you tried to act all tough and shit, in the back of your head, that weakness taunted you. It was like a voice right inside your skin reminding you that you weren’t good enough—that you would never be good enough.

“Is he one of the Allbrook’s?” Tyson was asking Ryder as people parted to let us through to the center of the circle.

“Yeah, he’s one of the new fighters they’re backing.”

“Stupid move,” Tyson said.

The cheering grew, and people were patting me on the back and calling out my name. My ears were deaf to what the crowd was chanting. It was like I was somewhere else, looking in from the outside. I felt disconnected from my own body. I wasn’t myself. I was somebody else. I wasn’t about to beat up some poor guy; the monster inside me was.

Ryder’s voice was in my ear. “You ready, little bro?”

I barely managed a nod before he was pushing me into the center of the circle with both hands, and deafening cheers met me. I stumbled, blinking as though waking from a dream.

Strange faces swam in front of my eyes.

I had to get my head in the game. I had to win.

I had to stop thinking about a life that I didn’t have. I had to stop thinking about a girl from another world.

This was my world, and in this world I was the king.

Chapter Three

Estella

“You okay, Estee?” Nathan asked as we drove down the long road that connected Penthill and Statlen.

I shrugged, not really in the mood to talk after the bizarre night I’d just had. I was still reeling from the shock of running into a member of the Madden gang and living to tell the tale. Except, I didn’t think I’d be telling anyone because the circumstances that I’d met Vincent under had been pretty mortifying.

Apart from the fact that I’d spent fifty percent of our encounter in a state of horrification, the other fifty percent I’d been distracted by Vincent’s good looks. I wasn’t shallow or superficial, but it was hard to ignore how attractive the guy was.

The way I felt around Vincent unsettled me. At first I’d thought I was just scared by him, but really fear had nothing to do with it. Instead, it felt like something had awoken inside of me—that alone scared me more than Vincent ever could.

“Estee, come on, talk to me.”

I caught the slur in Nathan’s voice, and turned in my seat to stare at him in disbelief. “You’ve been drinking.”

Nathan visibly swallowed. “It was just a couple of glasses after dinner and—”

“Pull over, Nathan.”

“I’m fine to dri—”

“Pull over!”

Nathan swore under his breath but did as I said. The car slowed to a stop and we were both as quiet inside as it was outside. The darkness stretched out in front of our eyes—expansive and never-ending, just the way I felt inside.

Nathan was the first one to break the silence. “Estee, I swear, I’m not that drunk.”

I fixed him with a steely glare. “You know how I feel about you drinking. I can’t stop you from doing it, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it. And there is no way you are going to be driving me anywhere while you’re intoxicated.”

I knew I sounded like a parent instead of Nathan’s younger sister and I hated having to assume that role. For once, I just wanted to be the irresponsible one. I wanted to be the one to stay out all night with my friends and crawl home in the early hours of the morning.

But I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t be that person. I had to be the responsible one. I had to be the strong one. I had to hold everything together.

Nathan stared at the steering wheel and then nodded. “I know. I’m sorry. I lost control and I shouldn’t have done that.” He was quiet for a few seconds, and then he spoke again. “Today is her birthday, you know?”

I squeezed my eyes shut as a lump worked its way to the center of my throat. I knew. I just hadn’t wanted to acknowledge it. Why did Nathan have to bring up something so painful? Normally, we avoided conversations about her like the plague. I guess the alcohol had taken control of his mouth and he’d brought up the central thing that had probably been bothering him all day.

“Is that why you drank tonight?” My voice was calm even though something inside of me—something I’d locked up inside a cage and then thrown into an abyss—was trying to rise to the surface and take hold of my emotions.

Well, I wasn’t going to let that happen. I was going to stay strong.

Nathan looked up at me; the whites of his eyes were rimmed with red. “I was trying to forget about her. It didn’t really work. I haven’t thought about her for so long, and then I was driving through town and I went past that shop, you know the one with all the pastries? And I thought about the time she’d taken us all there on her birthday and, fuck!” Nathan slammed his hand against the steering wheel, making me jump. “I don’t want to think about her! I want to forget that she exists!”

That natural instinct to take care of everyone awoke inside of me, and my annoyance with Nathan dissipated.

I reached over and placed both arms around him. “I know it’s hard, but you have a heart; you have feelings. Of course you’re going to miss her. Of course you’re going to think about her. You aren’t cold and heartless like she is, Nate.”

Nathan raised his head so I could only see his amber eyes that were so like mine; it was like looking into a mirror. Finally, he sighed and nodded. “You’re right. I’m not like her.”

“You can’t let her affect you so much that you lose grip, okay? Things are going well for you. Please don’t mess it up.” My tone was pleading.

Three years ago, Nathan had been on a downward spiral that had ended up with him in the emergency room from alcohol poisoning. There was no way I was going to let the same thing happen again.

“I won’t mess it up,” Nathan said, determination in his eyes. “I just slipped a little, but I refuse to fall.”

I nodded, and then gestured to the driver’s side door. “Now, get out. I’m driving.”

A smile broke Nathan’s face and he rolled his eyes at me before getting out of the car and coming around to my side. I followed him with a critical eye. He was only stumbling a little which I guess was a good thing, but there was no way I was letting him drive back to campus like this. He could crash on the couch.

Once I was behind the steering wheel, I drove the remaining twenty minutes home, lost in my thoughts. Nathan didn’t say much either and when I glanced over at him, his eyes were fluttering as he fought sleep.

We lived on the edge of town in a neighborhood that had a pretty terrible reputation. The houses on our street were old and rundown and there was more than one front yard that looked like a garbage dump.

When I pulled up outside our house, I turned off the engine and took a second to prepare myself for what I would find inside. My eyes wandered over the exterior of house as I wrestled with my thoughts. My parents had bought the house many years ago before Savannah had been born and it was the only asset that we owned.

Our house was more or less the same as all the other houses on the street. It was an off-white color that was starting to yellow. Once upon a time, we’d had a picket fence but one night after drinking too much, Dad had reversed his truck into it. He’d never bothered to fix it up so now it lay there defeated, much like the inhabitants of the house.

We didn’t have much money to fix up the house so we had to make do with what we had. Which wasn’t much. Dad worked manual labor at the stables outside of town and we survived on that. When Dad had a bad week and didn’t go to work and ended up getting drunk instead was when we really struggled.

The days that I didn’t volunteer at the Penthill Community Center, I worked at a small drugstore in Statlen. I only got one or two shifts a week depending on availability, but I saved every dollar I earned. I knew enough about the world to know that you had to work hard at something if you wanted to get ahead in life.

Nathan had earned a scholarship to Penthill University and I was planning on doing the same. He lived on campus in student housing because he couldn’t wait to leave home and get away from our alcoholic father. I couldn’t blame him but I missed having him around.

As for Savannah, she worked at a diner in town a couple nights a week, but I didn’t like her taking too much time away from her schoolwork. She needed to keep those grades up as best as she could if she wanted to get a scholarship.

“Nate, wake up.” I poked my brother in the arm.

Sometime during the half hour car ride, he had fallen asleep and currently had his head resting awkwardly on his shoulder. I hated to wake him, but there was no way I was letting him sleep in the car.

“Mmmm…what?” he groaned, slowly opening his eyes. Amber orbs peeked out at me from beneath his lashes.

“We’re home, get inside.”

Nathan let out an incoherent groan, and we both got out, letting all the cold air in. He stumbled to the front door as I followed him.

Once we were inside, Nathan stumbled off towards the living. When he disappeared, I stopped and listened for a moment, but the house was silent.

There was no light peeking out from underneath Dad’s door which was a good sign. Even though it was only ten o’clock, he’d probably been drunk enough to pass out. I was just glad I wouldn’t have to deal with him in his drunken state. I’d been dreading it since his phone call earlier tonight.

* * *

The next morning, Savannah and I were sitting at the kitchen table when her voice broke into my chaotic thoughts.

“Hey, um, Dad threw up in the living room last night before you got home.”

I glanced up, startled, and met her dejected amber eyes. She swept her long, honey brown hair to the side as she continued speaking. “I tried to clean it up as best as I could; it was really gross.”

I heaved a sigh. Cleaning up vomit was not something my sixteen-year-old sister should have to be doing. That wasn’t her job. It shouldn’t have to be my job either. On days like today, I felt like a complete failure.

“I’m sorry you had to do that,” I said with resignation. I reached out and took Savannah’s hand in mine.

She shrugged. “I heard him on the phone with you last night talking about her.” I knew she was referring to our Mom and it pained me that she couldn’t bring herself to say that word. “He went into his room not too long after that.”

I was just about to say something when Nathan strolled into the kitchen looking like death had kicked him in repeatedly in the shins. His eyes were bloodshot and his naturally tan skin was a shade lighter than usual. Alcohol definitely didn’t agree with him.

“Ugh, my head.” He slid into the chair at the table across from Savannah.

“Nate! What are you doing here?” Savannah was looking at our brother like she couldn’t quite believe he was here.

Whenever Nathan dropped me home, he never came inside the house. He wanted to avoid Dad as much as possible. The last few times they’d come face to face, they’d gotten into really bad arguments. Since then, Nathan had stayed away from the house and Dad.

“Nate had a bit too much to drink yesterday, so he stayed the night.” I stood up and went over to the counter to pour Nathan a cup of coffee.

Savannah looked thoroughly annoyed as she took a sip of her OJ. “You’re such a stupid head, you know that, right?”

He smiled at me gratefully when I handed him the coffee, before shooting Savannah a dirty look. “You should kiss the ground I walk on, brat. My good looks and biting wit are far more superior to yours.”

Savannah let out a strangled choke and I patted her on the back before resuming my seat. “The only thing superior about you is your age, and I don’t think that being an old fossil is something to brag about.”

“You are such a brat,” Nathan said with a glare.

“You repulse me.”

The expression on their faces grew more serious as they spouted obscenities at each other.

“You stink like man sweat.”

“You have small girl hands.”

Nathan’s mask slipped and he cracked a smile. “Damn.”

Savannah burst out laughing and I couldn’t help but join in. “Yeah! I won!”

“We’ll see about that next time.” Nate was trying to look mad, but an affectionate smile was curling around his lips as he studied Anna.

My mind couldn’t help but take a mental snapshot of this moment. It was hard to believe that despite everything the three of us had been through at such a young age, we could still have moments where we truly laughed and forgot about the problems in our lives.

The Markson kids were no pushovers.

We weren’t going to crumble just because life wasn’t going our way. We were going to do the best we could with what we had. One day we would beat this because we were strong.

“I’m gonna get ready for school. I’ll see you next time you decide to drunkenly stumble into the house.” Savannah stuck her tongue out at Nathan before walking down the hall and into her room.

“Love you, brat,” he called out after her.

“Love you, too!”

“That kid’s an angel.” Nathan turned back to me.

“I wonder who she gets it from,” I said, taking a gulp of my coffee. It’d gone tepid because I’d let it sit for too long when I’d become absorbed by Nathan and Savannah’s banter. They always teased each other like that but it never got old. They were so alike, and I was the odd one out.

Having fun wasn’t something I had time to do. It wasn’t something I allowed myself to do. Not when life was so difficult and serious. I preferred to stick firmly to reality instead of having short-lived moments of happiness. In my world, there was no point in being happy.

“Hmmph,” Nathan snorted, then lowered his voice. “So, uh, he’s not up yet?”

I shook my head, knowing very well that he was referring to Dad.

Nathan slumped back in his chair, his hands balling up into fists as he released the cup of coffee. “Guess he won’t be going to work then. That’s so typical of him. Why the hell should he care if you and Anna get fed or not, as long as he has a bottle of rum to himself at the end of the day?”

My throat felt dry when I swallowed. I knew Nathan wasn’t intentionally trying to make me feel bad, but the reality of the situation always killed a tiny part of me.

Day by day, the situation eroded away at me. The situation eroded me. Eventually, I would become a soulless, mindless shell of a person, only existing until this life was over. Some days, I wished this life was over.

When I didn’t say anything, Nathan heaved a sigh and scraped his chair against the tiled floor, moving closer to me.

He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and bent his head close to mine. “I’m sorry, Estee, I didn’t mean to talk about it. I just-I just worry so much about you guys. I can’t wait until I graduate, until I get a good job, until I can take you and Anna away from all this crap.”

“I know,” I whispered, tears stinging my eyes.

Nathan was in his third year of college, and the future he talked about was still a couple of years away. Until then, I would have to take care of Savannah as best as I could.

“Do you want me to move back home?”

I turned to face Nathan, surprised by his words. My mouth tightened and I pulled away from him. “Don’t you dare come back home, Nate. You need to focus all your energy into doing the best that you can at college and that’s not going to happen while you’re still living here. Do you understand?”

Nathan nodded and I could see relief flicker momentarily in his eyes. I knew my brother would’ve come back home if I’d asked him too, but he was also glad that he didn’t have to. I couldn’t blame him for feeling like that. This place was a hell where you had to fight to survive.

“Oh, before I forget, I grabbed this from the notice board on campus and thought you might be interested.” Nathan pulled something out of his back pocket. “They’re looking for a tutor for a ten-year-old and they’re paying a lot of money.”

Nathan handed me a flyer and I studied it, chewing on my lower lip as I read the details.

‘A lot of money’ was an understatement. They were paying a hundred dollars an hour. That was more than any tuition fee I’d ever heard of and they had requested the tutor every Tuesday and Friday. That was two hundred dollars a week!

The only problem was it clashed with my Friday at the community center. I guess I could drop one day of volunteering if I got this job. The idea of earning that much money was definitely tempting albeit a little strange.

I wasn’t a greedy person, but we needed that money. We needed that money to pay bills and to buy groceries. I was in desperate need of a job that paid well, otherwise we wouldn’t survive.

It looked like Penthill was very quickly becoming my new hangout now. “Do you think they’ll turn me down for being in high school?”

Nathan shrugged. “I figured they wanted someone in college, but you’re just as smart if not smarter. Be a bit more confident and you’ll get the job. It’s a ten-year-old, no biggie. You’ve handled worse.”

My brother was right. I had handled worse. I handled worse every single day.

“So, are you gonna call up?” Nathan asked, shifting away from me and grasping his cup again.

I slowly nodded. “Yeah, I think I’ll call now. Are you leaving or sticking around for a while?”

“I don’t wanna be here when he gets up. I have a class this afternoon so I’m gonna head back to campus.” Nathan stood up and planted a kiss on my head. “Let me know how it goes with the job.”

I stood up and followed him as he headed out, and then went into my room to figure out what I was going to say.

It was strange the amount of money they were offering as the tuition fee. And the only detail the flyer really gave was that the location was Penthill and that ‘Dylan’ was supposed to be the one to contact.

With a shrug, I reached for my cell and dialed the number at the bottom of the page. The phone rang and rang and rang. Maybe they were busy. I guess I could try again but it would have to wait until after school. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to wait that long just in case someone else beat me to it.

Just as I was about to hang up, someone answered the phone.

“Helloooo!” It was the voice of a little boy.

“Um, hi, I was just calling about the position that was advertised—“

“Oh! You want to tutor me?” The boy sounded excited; his words all came rushing out at once.

“Well, yes, I saw that a tutor was—”

“Can you meet me this afternoon?”

My brows knitted together at the sudden offer. The boy hadn’t even asked for my name and he was already asking to meet me. This was too weird, even for me.

“Maybe we should check to make sure your parents are alright with us meeting.” I wasn’t sure how legitimate this was, and as sweet as the boy sounded, I didn’t know if he was really in a position to be making these decisions.

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. “No, it’s fine. My brother said I can choose who I want my tutor to be.”

“Oh, okay.” I still wasn’t sure how to proceed. “Is that your brother Dylan? Can I speak t him?”

“I’m Dylan,” the boy responded. “And my brother isn’t here right now. But we can meet you at the Penthill library at 4. I’m really looking forward to meeting you!”

A part of me was bursting to say yes, but the sensible part of me was still wary about the entire situation. “Are you sure about this, Dylan? Should you make sure your brother is okay with this?”

“It’s fine! I’ll see you this afternoon!” And without saying anything else, Dylan hung up.

Still reeling from the bizarre exchange, it took me a few minutes to realize that he hadn’t even asked my name.

Chapter Four

Vincent

“Should I tuck in my shirt?” Dylan asked from beside me as we leaned against the door of my truck.

My little brother and I couldn’t look any more different from each other if we tried. I was dressed in my usual blue denim jeans and denim shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and cigarette hanging out of my mouth. I looked like I was about to go and beat the crap out of someone.

Dylan, on the other hand, looked like he was about to head off to church. The little squirt was wearing a pair of tan slacks and a white shirt with the buttons done up almost to the top. I reckon he was trying to impress his tutor. All he’d told me was that she was a girl and she sounded nice.

His last tutor had been this stuffy, college guy, and I’d had enough of his arrogant bullshit and probably scarred him for life when I’d had a “talking to” with him about his attitude. Hell, not my problem he was a sensitive ass.

Reaching over, I mussed Dylan’s neatly combed hair, making the blonde strands stick up. “I think you should relax, Dil.”

Dylan glared at me with bright blue eyes. “It took me ten minutes to get my hair right.”

The look on my little brother’s face made me chuckle, if only for the fact that he was so different to Ryder, Tyson, and me, which I was actually thrilled about. The three of us were stupid, reckless, broken and scarred. Dylan was still young; he was innocent and smart. He still had a chance to have a better life.

The three of us were part of a world that I didn’t want Dylan getting involved in. I knew that eventually Ryder would start introducing Dylan to what we did, but I was hoping that if I set Dylan on the right path from a young age, he wouldn’t want to have anything to do with the Madden gang.

That was why I fought the fights. That was why I put myself through all this shit. Because I wanted a better life for Dylan. I wanted him to have choices. For him to have a shot, I needed money. I needed money to put him through private school and to get him a tutor so he maintained his grades.

“You look fine, kid. We’re only meeting your tutor, not applying for college.”

“Yeah, but if I don’t get a tutor, I’ll fail Math and then I won’t go to college.”

The kid had a point. “Just smile and be the awesome guy you already are and I’m sure she’ll take the job.”

Dylan frowned as he peered up at me. “It’s not me I’m worried about, it’s you.”

I stared at him in surprise. “Me? Whaddya mean?”

Dylan sighed and shook his head. “It’s just…you scare off all my tutors. Can’t you try to be nice for once?”

“Nice?” The word sounded strange on my tongue, so I said it one more time just to get a better grasp of it. “Nice.”

No one had ever wanted me to be nice before. Ryder had always taught me to be tough and to never act like a pussy. Growing up, he’d always had this saying: Never run away from a fight; even if you know you’re going to lose, fight like you’re a winner.

That’s what I kept telling myself every time I started showing signs of what Ryder called “weakness”. To him, a weakness was when you let someone in, when someone got too close. The only people we should share everything with were the brothers of our gang.

Any other displays of friendship, attachment, caring, kindness, or love were all signs of weakness, and Ryder didn’t stand for weakness.

“Yes, nice.” Dylan’s voice cut into my thoughts, and when I glanced back at him, he had a look of determination blazing in his eyes. “If you’re nice to people, they’ll be nice back. So, pleeease, be nice to the tutor. I want her to like me.”

The kid was worried for no reason. If the tutor didn’t like him, I’d make her like him.

There was the squeal of tires on asphalt, and a car turned into the parking lot of the library. It was a beat up old station wagon, pretty ready to fall apart. As the car screeched to a halt across the lot, my eyes darted over it critically.

There was no hope for that smoking crap pile of metal. Even I wouldn’t be able to do much to help it. That car needed to be put down, that’s how much pain the engine sounded like it was in. Poor thing.

The passenger side door opened and a girl got out. She shut the door and leaned in through the open window to speak to the driver.

As she spoke, I studied the honey brown hair that fell in long waves down her back. That color wasn’t out of a bottle—it was pretty obvious it was natural—and her hair was fucking hot. It was the kind of hair you wanted to grab onto when you were screwing a girl.

Her clothes were kinda plain, though. She was wearing an ankle-length skirt and a baggy sweater over the top. Who the fuck dressed like that?

Then, as the car finally drove away with a screech, she turned around, and it felt like my head had split in two. All of a sudden, it hit me who dressed like that. There was only one other girl I knew who dressed like that.

No fucking way. It couldn’t be her. It couldn’t be the girl I was trying to forget about. Life couldn’t be that screwed up that she would walk back into mine so soon after I’d decided I would never approach her in Penthill ever again.

“She’s pretty!” There was excitement in Dylan’s voice as he straightened up beside me.

She was more than pretty; she was fucking beautiful, old woman clothes and all.

Estella’s eyes widened as they focused on me, and that rose bud mouth that I wanted to kiss so badly, opened in surprise. She stopped a few feet away from Dylan and me, staring between the two of us like someone had slapped her across the face.

The feeling was mutual.

“Are you the tutor?” Dylan sprang forward, extending his hand towards her. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

“Um…uh-I.” Estella looked winded as she took his hand in hers—she continued staring at me with those whiskey eyes that intoxicated me.

Shit. I was completely screwed.

Dylan didn’t seem to notice her hesitance. “I’m Dylan Madden. I spoke to you on the phone this morning. I needed a Math tutor, so my brother put an ad…”

Estella’s eyes glazed over at those words. I could see her brain working as she tried to process the fact that we were Maddens. I waited for her to turn around and run, but it surprised me when she smiled down at Dylan and returned his handshake.

“Dylan, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Estella Markson.”

From where I was standing, I could see Dylan’s ears turn red as he dropped her hand. “Estella? That’s such a nice name. Are you going to tutor me, Estella? Please say you will! I’m having trouble with fractions and I want to do really well in school.” I knew he was giving her that smile—the Madden smile. The smile that women found irresistible.

“I think I can help you with fractions and anything else you need help with.” Estella’s smile only grew, until her entire face was glowing and radiating warmth that I’d never experienced before. Just from that look on her face, you could tell she was kind and genuine. I wanted to soak in that smile of hers and bask in the glow radiating from her face.

Something stirred in the pit of my stomach, like tiny shivers were somehow working their way inside me. Fuck that. I didn’t want to feel whatever the fuck I was feeling. This wasn’t going to happen. I had to put an end to it.

I strode forward and placed both hands on Dylan’s shoulders. “This isn’t going to work out. We have to go now, Dil.”

Dylan twisted out of my grasp and backed away from me until he was almost pressed up against Estella. “Why? I like her.”

Groaning, I pushed a hand through my hair in frustration. It wasn’t going to be easy arguing with Dylan once he was determined about something. “You’ve known her for about a minute. You’ll get over it.”

I reached out for him but he shrunk away against Estella who wrapped a protective arm around him and frowned at me like I was the enemy. Shit. If only she knew I was doing this to keep her out of my world. She didn’t need to have any part in it.

She gave me a level look. “I have no problem with being Dylan’s tutor.”

My jaw clenched. I wasn’t used to people not agreeing with me. But that was what had drawn me to Estella; the fact that she stood up to me even when she’d been intimidated by me. “That’s not going to happen. Deal with it.”

This time, I grabbed Dylan by the arm and began dragging him back towards the truck. He let out a cry of protest, which I ignored, and didn’t stop until I’d opened up the passenger side door.

“Vincent, wait!”

I’d just been about to throw Dylan into the passenger seat when Estella’s voice made me stop. Dylan, who up then had been crying and yelling, also stopped to crane his neck around my body so he could catch a glimpse of Estella.

My body was extremely tense when I turned around to meet her, and found her standing directly behind me. The proximity to her made me want to shrink away, but that would make me the queen of pussies everywhere, so I held my ground like a Madden would.

“What?’ I barked out, liking the way her mouth turned down at my cold tone.

Good. I didn’t want her to like me. I wanted her to stay the hell away.

Her eyes darted past me, before returning to me and sizing me up. “Can we talk in private?”

No. Fuck no. I didn’t want to get any closer to her than was necessary.

For some reason, I was nodding. My Goddamn head was nodding. Why the hell was I nodding?

We walked a few feet away from the car, out of earshot of Dylan, and I started speaking before she could open her mouth.

“I don’t want you to tutor my brother, do you get it?”

Estella folded her arms across her chest, and I could tell I was in for a battle. “No, I don’t really get it. Did I leave such a bad impression on you last night that you won’t even consider me for the position?” There was a smirk forming on the edge of her lips that I wanted to take into my mouth and devour.

The point she was trying to make came across loud and clear. She was a good girl; I was the one who’d left a bad impression on her, yet I refused to hire her. She couldn’t understand why and I couldn’t explain it to her. My gut instinct was telling me to stay away and my instincts were never wrong.

“You’re obviously not right for the job.” That was the only thing I could think of in response.

“And why is that?”

“Because I said so.” Yeah, I went there. I was twenty-years-old and I’d just used that as an excuse. I wanted to punch myself in the face.

Estella stared at me like I was crazy. “That might usually work for you in your line of work, but that isn’t going to fly with me. You really need to come up with something better than that if you expect me to believe you.”

She took a step towards me, irritation clear in the lines of her forehead. I didn’t know why she was being so damn stubborn about this. Why did she want the job so badly?

Well, I wasn’t going to let her throw me off my game, so I took a step closer to her until I was so close that I could see the faint freckles that dotted her cheeks.

I folded my arms across my chest to match her. “I don’t need to explain myself to you.”

“That’s what happens when you get high on power.” Irritation flared up in her eyes and she stared at me like she wanted to throw something at my head.

“I’m not high on power.” I smirked at her. “I’m just on a steady diet of awesomeness.”

She let out a small sound of indignation and raised her hand as though she was about to push me, but my fighter’s senses kicked in and I reached out and grabbed her wrist before she could make impact.

“Are you attempting to act violently towards me, Estella?” I could feel a smile tugging at the edges of my mouth as she shot me a dirty look.

“I-you-ugh!” She stammered, her expression changing from irritation to embarrassment. “You are so frustrating!”

I lowered my head closer to hers. “Darlin’, I think you mean ‘attractive’, ‘irresistible’, ‘sexy’.”

“You’re none of those things,” she scoffed, looking pointedly at a spot just past my ear. She took a deep breath and then turned back to me. “Look, your brother seems to want me as his tutor so I don’t get what your problem is.”

My smile fell as we go back to the point. She was right; Dylan wanted her as his tutor and I couldn’t disappoint him. He’d had enough disappointment in life. Finally, I nodded, still unsure why Estella made me feel so conflicted about, well, everything.

“Fine, you can tutor him, but it has to be here.” I nodded at the library. “That’s if you pass the interview.”

“But the tutor always comes to the house!” At some point during my conversation with Estella, Dylan had approached us and was now standing in between us with a pout on his face.

Estella raised a brow in question at me which made knots form in the center of my stomach. There was no way I was going to let Estella in my house. If she was already affecting me like this, if she already had the ability to get inside my head and bring my guard down, I didn’t even want to know what was going to happen once she saw how we lived.

“It’s either the library or nothing.” My tone was firm and Dylan could tell I was being serious about this so he didn’t push the issue.

“That works for me,” Estella took a step back and let out a deep breath. “Um, why don’t we go inside and talk over what Dylan would like to work on and then I guess you can interview me.”

She led the way and Dylan and I followed closely behind. Beside me, Dylan gripped my shirt excitedly, but then stopped mid-step and shot me a curious look. “You know what I don’t get, Vin? How did she know your name? I never told her.”

I tousled my brother’s hair and continued walking after Estella. “Magic, Dil; she’s magic.”

Chapter Five

Estella

Vincent’s idea of an interview was to ask me about my availability, go over the amount he’d be paying me, and to make sure Dylan and I were on the same page where his Math work was concerned.

It was safe to say that I was hired.

We’d both agreed that the lessons would take place every Tuesday and Friday at the Penthill library since Vincent had made it clear that I wasn’t welcome at his house. I mean, I wasn’t even sure if I really wanted to go there anyway. Did I really want to step inside the Madden house? The sensible part of me was telling me no.

And, with all seriousness, could my life get even stranger? How could it be possible that Vincent and I had crossed paths twice already in the span of 24 hours? And what was that strange pull I could feel between us?

Whenever he got too close or we fell into our banter, the air would charge between us, like we were tangled up in a web of electrical currents. It was the strangest sensation.

Once all the formalities were done and out of the way, Dylan turned his earnest eyes onto me. “Estella, do you have a boyfriend?”

Well, this wasn’t something I expected to come out of a ten-year-old’s mouth. It was a question that always made me uncomfortable. Things were made even more uncomfortable by the fact that Vincent was sitting across from me watching me with his obsidian eyes.

People always wondered why I was single or had never had a boyfriend. Truthfully, it was something that didn’t matter to me. And, besides, no one wanted to date the girl with the out-of-control, alcoholic father.

Vincent was still studying me, and my body was starting to grow warm under his steady gaze, so I focused all my attention onto Dylan. “No, I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Husband?”

A small laugh escaped me. “Uh, definitely not.”

Vincent shifted in his seat, and I couldn’t help but dart a glance in his direction. He was still watching me, a satisfied smirk on his lips. Those lips were a part of the most gorgeous face I had ever seen. Even though I wasn’t interested in having a boyfriend, I couldn’t deny how attractive Vincent was, Madden or not.

“How old are you?” Dylan asked, leaning forward.

My eyes went back to Dylan. “Seventeen, but I turn eighteen on December 1st.”

“Dil, she’s a bit too old for you, don’t you think?” There was a smile on Vincent’s face as he poked his brother in the arm.

Dylan looked disappointed as a frown filled his features. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Hey, you know what?” I bent my head towards Dylan, lowering my voice. “Give it ten more years and you never know.”

It looked as though Christmas had come early for Dylan, because his entire face lit up and there was a big smile on his face as he stuck his tongue out at Vincent. “See! I do have a chance!”

“Yeah, Dil, I see.” Vincent’s tone was cool, but I could see amusement in his eyes as he studied his little brother. There was a fondness there, and it was pretty obvious how much he cared for him.

Being in a criminal gang didn’t make you completely heartless, I suppose. Seeing the bond between siblings always touched me.

After about thirty minutes of talking to Dylan about his favorite TV shows and which Pokémon was the best—Vincent was silent during this time, though I was well aware that he never took his eyes off me—we finally decided it was time to leave. It was almost five and Savannah was supposed to pick me up soon.

I’d mentally settled on a rough outline of what we would cover over the next few weeks. When I got home, I was going to go through my fifth grade Math text book to refresh my memory. Yes, I still had my text book from fifth grade. I kept all my school books organized in order of year and subject.

Vincent and Dylan were speaking with their heads bowed close together, foreheads almost touching. It looked like they were having a serious discussion about something, and for several seconds, I felt uncomfortable.

Could it be possible that Dylan had changed his mind about me tutoring him? Or had Vincent decided, once again, that he didn’t want me tutoring his brother?

Then, as the brothers broke apart, the mischievous grin on Dylan’s face was enough to convince me that my thoughts were petty. Obviously, they had been talking about something entirely different.

“Estella,” Dylan began, his voice almost sing-song, “would you like to have dinner with my brother and me?”

My eyes shot to Vincent, whose expression was unreadable. There was a small crease between his brows as he waited for my response. I wanted to see some sort of reaction from him, but his face was stone cold. Yikes. Apart from the odd smirk, this guy never smiled.

“I’m sorry, I can’t today,” I said, turning back to Dylan. “My sister will be here soon to pick me up.”

“Oh.” Dylan’s expression was downcast. “That’s okay. Maybe another day?”

“Definitely,” I said, as we all stood up and began heading to the entrance of the library.

Dylan was a few steps ahead, chattering on about a girl in his class who was better at Math than he was. I half-listened as we walked outside into the chill November air and quickly wrapped my arms around myself as the coolness hit me.

Cold air was coming out of my mouth and I shivered against myself.

“I would give you my jacket, but then I’d have none left.” Vincent’s voice was close to my ear and I shivered again, despite his breath being warm against my skin.

I turned my head slowly and stared directly into the blackness of his eyes. They were as dark as a never ending abyss and just as difficult to define. The longer I stared into them, the more I felt like I was losing myself.

“Uh—” My voice caught in my throat and a volley of goose pimples assaulted my arms that I knew had nothing to do with the freezing temperature. Even if it had been a typical Iowa summer, I would still be shivering.

Vincent held my gaze, neither of us daring to break it. My head was filled with a buzzing that echoed around empty walls. It was hard to exercise common sense and look away; not when Vincent was staring at me like he had never laid eyes on anyone quite like me.

What confused me the most was that I was acting the exact same way. This would be the perfect opportunity for one of my friends to shake some sense into me.

By some good fortune, Dylan tugged on the sleeve of my sweater. Startled, I broke away from the eye lock and looked down to meet Dylan’s expression of impatience. “Did you hear me?”

Shaking my head, I bent down so I was at eye level with him. “Sorry, what were you saying?”

“I said your sister’s pretty like you.”

Straightening up, I scanned the deserted parking lot and found Dad’s station wagon parked a few feet away where Savannah had originally dropped me off. The interior light was on inside the car, illuminating Savannah’s face as she stared out at us.

“I’d better get going.” I looked back at Vincent, but his expression was blank and inscrutable. There was no way of telling what was running through his head. “I’ll see you on Friday.”

“See you then!” Dylan said with an enthusiasm that made me smile.

Vincent didn’t respond at all, which I found both rude and strange. Well, whatever. I wasn’t going to mope around just because he wanted to be anti-social. I was actually glad to be getting away from him. His presence smothered my thoughts.

I hurried to the car, got in, and was hit by a blast of hot air. Anna had the heat cranked up high. She also had this look on her face like someone had used her as a punching bag and she hadn’t been expecting it.

“What?” I asked when she continued to stare at me.

She pointed past me and out the window. “You spent, like, an hour with that guy. Did you notice how freaking hot he was?”

I sighed into my hand, shaking my head. If only my sister knew who he really was; that he was a Madden and that sometimes he scared the heck out of me for that sole reason.

“No, I didn’t really notice,” I lied.

Savannah rolled her eyes as she pulled out of the parking lot. “Oh, Estee, you bore.”

If only she knew the truth—that Vincent had awakened a tumult of feelings within me that I wasn’t quite ready to face myself.

* * *

When we got home, the hairs on my arms stood up straight.

Even from the driveway, I could tell that something wasn’t right. The door was wide open, and all the lights were on. That meant that Dad was home.

“Estella?” Savannah asked, her tone uncertain as she got out of the car.

My entire body shook as a resounding crash came from inside the house. “Get back in the car!” I gestured at Savannah, but she was shaking her head.

“No, I’m coming in with you!”

“There is no way I am letting you do that,” I said in a firm tone. “Let me handle this. You get back in the car and wait for me to come out, do you understand?”

It was hard to shelter Savannah from the disease that plagued our family, but I was going to try my hardest. She was too young to have to face this, and I was going to protect her as best as I could. There was no hope for me; I had already seen the worst that life had to offer. I was already broken.

With determination, I strode up the front steps and inside the house, shutting the front door behind me. But as soon as I crossed the threshold and stood in the hallway, my bravado shattered. There was a pungent smell of vomit coming from somewhere inside the house that made me want to retch.

My body shook again and tears stung my eyes like prickles as he advanced towards me. I was once again reduced to a quivering child. I couldn’t do anything to make myself act; I just stood there, scared and helpless.

A bottle flew past me, barely missing my face, and smashed against the front door, breaking into hundreds of tiny fragments. He might as well have hit his target, the way my knees buckled at his approach. I felt like the bottle had smashed into my face, the glass shattering upon impact and disfiguring my face a hundred different ways.

Reaching out, I placed a hand on the wall to brace myself, and focused on him as he started swearing at me. He was dressed in the clothes he had been wearing two days ago; a pair of faded pants and an unbuttoned shirt that he wore to work. There was an uneven growth of stubble on his face and he definitely hadn’t showered in a few days.

This was my father. This was the man who was supposed to take care of me and protect me. But he had failed, and now he was tearing our entire family apart.

“You whore! You fucking piece of trash! Where were you? Roaming around the Goddamn streets like your slut mother! You’re worthless, just like her!”

Each word slashed at me like a cruel knife. I struggled to hold myself together, to stay strong, but it was so difficult. I just wanted to be free from this life. I was sick of the reminders of my mother. I wanted to forget that she had ever existed, but mainly, I just wanted to run away.

I wanted to run away from the responsibilities of this life. I wanted to go away to a place where I wasn’t “me” anymore. I wanted to be someone else—someone who was happy. I couldn’t remember the last time that I was happy, when my smile hadn’t been false.

But I couldn’t run away. This was my life and I had to face it. I had to face it for my sister. I wanted to be her protector and there was no way in hell I would let her face this. I had to be strong. I had to be the mother that she didn’t have anymore

“Daddy, please,” I begged, my voice wavering, “calm down.”

The tears began squeezing their way from my eyes, wanting to escape, not wanting to be a part of my weak body.

Thankfully, this made him stop within inches of me. Unfortunately, the smell rolling off him assaulted me. He stank of sweat, vomit, and alcohol, and I pressed myself against the wall in hopes of escaping the stench.

It didn’t work, though. The smell was too strong.

“I won’t calm down! Why should I calm down when you’re sleeping around like a whore? You stupid girl!”

He leaned towards me and grabbed me by the hair, shaking me a little. I shrank against the wall, wanting to curl up into a ball but there was a burning sensation of pain from where he was grasping my hair and pulling it.

This wasn’t my father. This was a monster fuelled by alcohol and rage. This was a person who was just as broken and damaged as me. Tomorrow he wouldn’t remember any of it, and if he did, he would be sorry for it.

I couldn’t give up on him. Even if it killed me.

“Daddy, I’m not like her,” I said, desperate for him to release me. “I promise I’m not like her. Please, just calm down. For me. For Anna.”

Dad’s breathing slowed, and he fixed me with his glazed over blue eyes. He released my hair, and grasped my face in both hands. “You-you look so much like her. Same hair, same eyes, same lips.”

I stayed perfectly still as he studied me, his grip finally slackening. He backed away and slammed a fist into the wall behind him. “I miss her so much! I miss her! She betrayed me, but I miss her! I love her!”

Despite wanting his hands off me only moments ago, I found myself lurching towards him—ignoring the searing of my skull—and wrapping an arm around his back. “I know, I know you do.” It was hard to believe that the calm, soothing voice was coming from my mouth. I felt anything but calm on the inside. “But you can’t let her hold you back. You’re better than that.”

In a single moment of clarity, Dad fixed his eyes on me. “I’m sorry. I just miss her so much. How could she do this to me? To us? You remind me so much of her.” He turned and wrapped his arms around me, burying his head into my shoulder and sobbing. “I just want to forget her. Please help me forget her. You’re the only one who can help me forget.”

This broken man—my father—was shattering in front of me, and I had to help him even if I didn’t want to. I shouldn’t have to do this. Fathers were supposed to protect their daughters, not the other way around.

“Help me sleep,” he murmured into my shoulder. “I can’t sleep. Help me sleep.”

Choking back a sob, I nodded and allowed him to grab my wrist and pull me towards his room. I didn’t want to go in there. I didn’t want to console him in the way he needed me to—he had let me down—but I couldn’t make myself dig my feet into the floor and say no.

The door shut behind us and it was already too late.

I couldn’t say no, and that was my biggest fault.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, I walked back outside.

There was another car pulling into the driveway just as Savannah ran to me. It was a car that was all too familiar.

“Are you okay?” Savannah asked, but my attention was on the car and the person getting out of it.

“Why is Seth here?”

Seth Markson was my cousin—he was dad’s brother’s only son—and had dropped in on us from time to time ever since Mom had left home. He was twenty-six-years-old and worked in real estate where he earned decent money, so he had helped us out when we were struggling with money even though I hadn’t wanted him to.

I didn’t like the idea of owing Seth money. I didn’t like the idea of owing him anything.

“I called him,” Savannah answered. “I got worried when you didn’t come out right away, and I didn’t want to call Nate after what happened last time.”

I winced at the not-too-distant memory. The last time Nate and Dad had come face to face, blows had been exchanged. None of us wanted that to happen ever again.

“So you called Seth?” I hissed at her, as Seth approached us with brisk steps. He was dressed in a business suit and it was pretty clear he’d just finished work. “You know how I feel about—”

“Girls, what’s going on here?” Seth asked, stopping in front of us.

You couldn’t tell from looking at the three of us that we were related. Seth had dark blonde hair, periwinkle blue eyes, a square jaw and was a lot stockier than us.

“Hey, Seth,” Savannah said, giving him a quick hug. “You know, just the usual with Dad. Estee was in there for so long and I got worried, so I called you. I hope you don’t mind.”

Seth’s eyes searched mine as he ruffled Savannah’s hair in the same moment. “I don’t mind at all. I told you I’d always look out for you guys. If you ever need me, you know you can call me, right?”

He gave me a pointed look as though trying to drive the point home. I had heard this from Seth several times, but I never called him. I knew he was being genuine about helping out, but I didn’t want to be anyone’s charity case. Anna was the one who was close to him—she saw him as a big brother, even more now that Nate had moved out.

The skin of my left arm began to itch beneath my sweater and despite not wanting to be obvious about it, I rubbed at the itch over the sweater. Seth followed my motion and scrutinized my arm. A brief look of satisfaction flitted across his face before turning serious once again.

“We’re doing okay,” I managed to say.

My head was still swimming from my encounter with Dad and it was difficult to find the right words to say to Seth. All I knew was that I didn’t want anyone else getting involved in our personal matter. This was something I wanted to handle myself, even if it destroyed me.

The expression on Seth’s face was one of concern as he leaned forward and placed a hand over the very spot on my arm that I had been rubbing seconds ago. His eyes were like blue lasers probing me, trying to figure me out and analyze me.

“I know this isn’t easy for you guys to handle. No one should have to see their worthless father passed out on the floor every day. He’s not fit to take care of you. There’s always room at my place—”

“No.” My tone was firm. My word was final. This was where I drew the line.

There were a lot of things I could overlook, but I wasn’t going to stand here and pretend that everything was fine when it obviously wasn’t.

Seth reacted as though I had spit in his face, and he looked genuinely hurt by my tone of voice. He held up his hands in surrender and took a step back, glancing at Savannah who was shooting me daggers. “What about you, Anna? How are you holding up?”

“I’d rather not be here for longer than I have to. If it were up to me, I would come and live with you.” Once again, my little sister gave me a death look which I completely ignored.

“Money’s still tight, huh?”

“It would be tight if we actually had money. Estee and Nate don’t want me to work; they’d rather I focus on studying and shit. And, Dad, whenever he can be bothered to drag his ass out of bed and go to work, spends most of his money on alcohol. Estee just got a new job.”

Seth turned to me, his eyes filled with interest. “You have a new job? Where?”

“Penthill. I tutor a ten-year-old.”

“Okay, but it’s still gotta be hard.” Seth stared at me as though daring me to disagree with him.

Finally, I released a sigh and fixed him with a steely look. “Yes, it’s hard, okay? But we’re doing the best we can.”

He seemed satisfied with my answer as he reached into the back pocket of his tailored pants and pulled out his wallet. Upon opening it, he rifled through it and pulled out several fifty dollar bills before handing them to Savannah who simply gaped at them.

“What are you doing?” I demanded, pretty much at a loss for words.

“Helping,” Seth said. “It’s okay to ask for help.”

“I didn’t ask for help!” I cried, feeling helpless again.

“I can see the look in your eyes. I can tell what you want.”

For a moment, I felt small, weak, fragile. For a moment, I lost myself.

I must’ve blanked out, because the next thing I knew, Savannah was shaking my shoulder, and Seth was retreating to his car.

“That was rude, Estee!” Savannah snapped in my ear. “You could’ve at least said bye! He’s just trying to help!”

Even though I knew my sister was right, all I could muster was a half-hearted shrug which seemed to infuriate her further. She muttered something under her breath before storming inside the house.

I stood outside for a long time, staring up at the star-filled sky, searching for the hope that had left me a long time ago.

The world was not filled with kindness; it was just a huge knotted string of cruelty.

Chapter Six

Vincent

Ruby was home again.

Her piece of junk car was parked in the front yard next to my brothers’ bikes and trucks.

Sometimes we didn’t see her for months. Other times, it would only be a few days. We weren’t sure where she disappeared to, but we knew it was always to be with some guy she’d met.

She waitressed at a shit ass bar just out of town, so any guy who even glanced her way and was brave enough to put up with her crap for an unspecified period of time, she was happy to go home with.

We never got any warning. One day, she’d be there and the next day, half her clothes would be gone. That woman was the picture of a loving and caring mother.

The last we’d seen her was four months ago, back in August. This wasn’t the longest she’d been gone. Once, when I was about Dylan’s age, she’d left for six months and when she’d come back, she’d been pregnant with Dylan.

Throughout Ryder, Tyson, and my childhood, our mother had been absent. Our gran had taken care of us until she’d died when Dylan had been a year old. Since then—at only sixteen-years-old, Ryder had taken care of us. He had become the father we’d never known, and the protector we’d always needed.

Beside me, Dylan was peering through the windshield with wide eyes. He didn’t seem upset; he kind of just looked hopeful. I knew the look well. I’d been that same kid ten years ago. Back when I’d hoped that I’d have a father again and that my mother would be the way normal mothers were—making dinner, reading bedtime stories, and picking me up from school.

But my childhood had been nothing like that. My mother had had strange men over, disappeared for months at a time, did drugs, and had gotten drunk often.

I learned quickly that hope was for idiots.

Yet, a part of me didn’t want Dylan to be like that. I wanted him to hold onto the things that made him innocent. I wanted him to hold onto his childhood for as long as he could.

“Is that her?” he asked me, his voice barely above a whisper.

It was like he was afraid to talk too loud in fear that she would fade away like a spirit or something.

“Yes, Dil, that’s her.”

I didn’t bother saying anything else as we exited the car and headed towards the front door. Tyson was leaning against the wooden railing on the front porch, looking agitated. He’d probably heard me pull up and decided to let us in on whatever hell was raging inside.

Ryder was home and I knew for a fact that he was probably verbally abusing the crap out of our mother. He’d had a deep hatred for her ever since we were growing up. Maybe because he’d been older and remembered a lot more from when she’d been on her downward spiral, or maybe there was so much anger inside him that the only way he knew to direct it was by hating her.

“Ruby’s home,” Tyson said, as a way of greeting.

None of us actually called our mother “Mom”. That word implied a term of endearment; it implied closeness to a person, and that was something we didn’t have with her. So, to us, she was simply Ruby, the woman who had given birth to us.

“Did you guys pick up anything for dinner?” I asked, ignoring what he’d just said and walking inside.

My way of coping with Ruby’s return was to act like nothing had changed. There was no point in getting angry or upset or reacting at all. There was no point in hoping or being happy, because her return would only be temporary. As soon as she found another guy who’d fuck her and buy her nice things, she’d be out of here without a backward glance.

“Yeah, there’s burgers and fries in the kitchen,” Tyson responded, following us into the house. “Have at it.”

It was eerily silent inside—I’d expected to walk into the middle of a shit storm between Ryder and my mother—but it didn’t take me very long to pick out the one thing that didn’t belong in the picture: Ruby.

She sat on the couch with her face buried in her hands. At the sound of approaching footsteps, her head jerked up and she stared at us with bloodshot eyes before jumping to her feet.

“Vin, Dil, my babies!” She hurried to us with arms outstretched as though she expected us to run to her.

That wasn’t going to happen.

As she reached us, I tried not to notice the minor similarities I bore to this woman, particularly the dark eyes and the deep cheekbones. Really, Tyson was the one that looked most like her. She always said that Ryder and me looked like our father, and that Dylan looked like his.

Years of drug and alcohol abuse made Ruby look a lot older than she really was. She was only forty-one, but she looked more like fifty.

Dylan didn’t make a move towards her, but instead grabbed my hand. I squeezed it in a reassuring way, letting him know that I would handle the situation.

“Aren’t you boys gonna hug your momma?” Ruby asked when neither of us said or did anything.

“Are you our momma again? For how long this time?” I asked in a cool tone. “Well, momma, did you know that last month Dylan turned ten?”

Ruby went pale at my words and her smile faltered. “Of course I knew it was my baby’s birthday, but I was so busy, you know? I really tried to make it, but Mikey was just so—”

I raised a hand to silence her, and she flinched almost as though she was scared of me. “I don’t need to know the name of your fuck buddy. I just need to know how long you plan on staying here.”

There was a thick silence, and then Ruby’s lips began to quiver as she turned on the waterworks. “Goddammit, Vincent! H-he beat me up! He wouldn’t even let me get all my stuff! All I got is that one bag!” She gestured to a single suitcase that was propped against the couch. “I got nowhere to go! I got no money, nothing! Baby, don’t you ever go thinking that I don’t love you! I gave birth to you, honey, and there ain’t no love like a mother’s. I know I’ve done stupid shit, but that doesn’t change the way I feel about you.”

Any other person would’ve reacted to their crying, broken mother, but I had no reaction. I had seen this act before, many times, and the only thought that crossed my mind was how pathetic this woman was.

“How long are you staying here?” I asked again through clenched teeth. She was really testing my patience. I didn’t have time to stand around and listen to her spout her well-rehearsed bullshit.

The crying stopped just as suddenly as it’d started, and Ruby narrowed her eyes at me. “For as long as I have to.”

“Not if I can help it.” Ryder was in the room, and in a few quick strides, he was standing beside Dylan, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You stay one night, that’s it. I don’t want you poisoning this house for longer than necessary.”

If Ruby had been a little scared by me, it was nothing to how she reacted to Ryder’s presence. She took a step back, her eyes wide as they darted around the room, trying to find a savior.

That was the problem with this woman. She could never pick herself up; she always needed a champion, someone who would take care of her and protect her. She was spineless and weak. She was a leech, a parasite that lived off other people. She repulsed me.

Ruby let out a whimper and walked over to Tyson who had been silent the entire time. “Tyson, sweetie, say something. Tell your brothers that what they’re doing is wrong.” She grasped his arm and stared up at him piteously.

For a fraction of a second, pity clouded Tyson’s face. His brow was furrowed as he stared at Ruby like he felt sorry for her. It was pretty clear that Tyson was the weak link, and Ryder could sniff out weakness in a heartbeat.

“I dare you to say it, Son. I dare you to go against me.” Ryder didn’t exactly raise his voice, but the threat in his tone was clear. If Tyson dared to challenge him, he would ruin him.

Whatever sympathy Tyson had been feeling, quickly vanished at Ryder’s words. He pushed Ruby away and glared at her. “I would never go against you for this piece of trash, Rye. I would never go against you over anything.”

Seeming satisfied with Tyson’s response, Ryder turned back to Ruby. “There is no one in this house who will ever take your side, you piece of crap. You can stay here one night and one night only. After that, I want you out of here and I don’t give a shit where you go.”

There was a creak of the floorboards, and Tyson turned and walked out the door. I think this was all too much for him. He hadn’t completely closed himself off to Ruby the way Ryder and I had. I think sometimes he thought that she’d come back as a mother, that she’d change, but the situation was too far gone now. Ruby would never be what he wanted her to be. She would never change.

Ruby’s dark eyes landed on Dylan who was still holding onto my hand. “Fine. I’ll just take Dylan. He’s my son and I can keep him with me if I want.”

A surge of anger pulsed through me, almost blinding me. Dylan was my responsibility; I took care of him, and there was no way I was going to let her ruin his life. For as long as I could remember, I’d looked after Dil, not because I had to, because I wanted to. I wanted to give that kid the best chance at life. I wanted him to have choices. I didn’t want him to turn out like any one of us. If Ruby thought she could get back at us by taking Dil away, she was delusional.

Shoving Dylan behind me, I took a single step towards her that had her shrinking backwards. “Just try to take him. See what I do to you if you step out of this house with him.”

This time there really was fear in her eyes. “What happened to you, Vin? You ain’t the same, sweet boy you used to be.” She shot Ryder an accusing look. “What have you done to him?”

“He’s not weak anymore,” Ryder shot back. “He’s not weak like you. I made him strong. I taught him to fight back.”

What happened next was something I didn’t expect. Ruby turned to me with sympathy on her face. “No, Ryder, you’ve taught him to be cold, hard, and uncaring. You’ve turned him into stone.”

With that, she turned and walked away down the hall. A few seconds later, the bathroom door shut.

What the hell?

“Stupid bitch,” Ryder muttered, before turning back to us. His eyes drifted over Dylan and then back to me. “Food’s getting cold. Let the kid eat.”

That was all he said before ruffling Dylan’s hair and walking out the house.

* * *

The next morning, Ruby and her suitcase were gone.

Dylan met me at the kitchen table with a solemn look on his face. He played around with his bowl of cereal, pushing the spoon through the milk, as I sat down across from him, burying my head in my hands.

There was some part of me that should feel bad about everything that had happened last night, I know there should. But I felt nothing except anger. I didn’t feel guilt or remorse for the way I’d spoken to Ruby. The woman who I couldn’t even call “momma”. The woman who said she loved me. The woman who said that I was stone.

That’s what was cutting me up the most; the fact that she felt sorry for me. This woman—who had no home, no money, no sanity, no one who loved her—felt sorry for me. That was the biggest punch in the face—that I was someone to be pitied, like her.

No matter how strong Ryder wanted me to be, there was still something about me that made my own mother pity me. Now that was fucked up.

“Vincent?” Dylan asked, his tone soft and tentative.

I looked up and met his blue eyes that were so innocent. Was there a time long ago that I’d looked at someone with the same innocence?

“Yeah, Dil?” My voice sounded tired and defeated.

Dylan pushed his bowl away and slumped against his chair. “Is she coming back?”

My little brother waited expectantly for an answer from me. I was the adult; I was supposed to have all the answers, but I didn’t know shit. I didn’t know if Ruby was coming back. I didn’t know why she’d chosen this path for herself. I didn’t have a fucking clue.

“I don’t know.”

“Oh.” Dylan sucked in his bottom lip. “Does she hate me?”

Shit. My ten-year-old brother thought that his own mother hated him. What kind of fucked up shit was that? No kid should think that they were hated by their own parent.

“No, she doesn’t hate you.” I reached across the table and grabbed his hand. “She hates herself.”

And a part of me knew that that was the truth

No matter how much we hated Ruby, she hated herself that little bit more.

Chapter Seven

Estella

My feet were dragging on Wednesday at school.

Sometimes it got hard pretending that everything was fine when it really wasn’t. My friends knew a little about my home life, but they weren’t aware of the full extent of it. No one was. Not even Nate and Anna. I planned on keeping it that way. They both had enough to worry about without having to worry about me.

The skin on my left arm was itching a lot today. I wanted to blame it on the material of my sweater, but I knew that wasn’t the reason. It was a psychological thing; whenever I was particularly stressed, that exact same spot would itch. It had happened without fail for the past two and a half years.

I stopped walking when I saw my two best friends heading down the hall towards me. Mariah Brand easily stood out with her deep shade of red hair that was thick and curly whereas Lana spent painstaking hours straightening hers. Hadassah Swinton—better known as Hadie—was short and petite with brown hair. She was usually full of smiles, but that had changed recently.

“Hey, Estee.” Even Mariah’s voice was void of its usual peppiness today.

The general mood amongst my group of friends had been pretty morose lately.  See, the thing was, our group of three had originally been four. Lana Buckley—who was also Mariah’s cousin—had recently had a falling out with her and we weren’t entirely sure where things stood with her right now. Mariah was really mad about it, especially because Lana was her cousin, and she couldn’t bring herself to forgive her.

As for Hadie, she was wonderful, kind, and selfless but last month she’d suffered something heartbreaking that had changed her. Some of the light that surrounded her had dimmed a little and she was forever changed. For a while, it’d seemed like she was pulling through it thanks to this guy in our grade, Eddie Cavallari, but lately she’d been withdrawing and pushing everyone away.

That was why I didn’t want to dredge up my problems and make things worse when they were already bad enough for my friends. There was only so much a bunch of seventeen-year-old girls could handle.

“Hey, Ray,” I responded in a flat tone, calling Mariah by the nickname we’d coined for her in elementary school.

Ray flashed me a smile that I could barely bring myself to return. “How did your job interview go?”

That was another topic that I wanted to avoid. “Yeah, it was fine. I got the job.” I tried to act like it was no big deal and Ray didn’t seem interested enough to ask about it further.

Besides, Hadie’s well-being was more important than discussing my tutoring job. Her eyes had been glassy the entire time and that wasn’t a good sign. It meant that she was thinking about the one thing that was killing her inside.

“Hadie,” I said in a gentle tone, “how are you?”

“Huh?” She looked up at me, startled. Her eyes were watery, and I couldn’t help myself; I reached out and wrapped my arms around her.

At first she was tense, but eventually she relaxed against me. “I love you,” I whispered, “and if you need me, I’m here. Always.”

Hadie didn’t respond, and that was okay. I just needed her to know, needed to remind her, that she wasn’t alone. The worst feeling in the world was one of complete and utter loneliness where you felt like no one understands you and that no matter how loud you cry and scream, no one will come and rescue you.

When I released her, Hadie seemed a little more at ease, and that made me feel better. It made me feel better knowing that I could help someone else, even if I couldn’t help myself. Helping others made me momentarily forget that I had problems of my own—problems that nightmares were made of.

And, right on cue, the skin of my left arm began to itch again.

* * *

That night, we didn’t have anything to eat.

The only thing I’d managed to find in the cupboard were two cans—one was tuna and the other was diced tomatoes. We didn’t have bread or rice or pasta, but I still made an Italian-style sauce.

Despite the lack of carbohydrates to soak up the sauce, Anna and I scoffed it down because we were so hungry. We probably would’ve finished it all, but I saved some for Dad like I always did. I wasn’t too sure where he was tonight, but he got angry when there wasn’t food waiting for him when he got home.

Once we were done eating, we stood side by side at the kitchen sink and did the dishes together in silence. Normally, Anna would talk non-stop, but after the ordeal with Dad yesterday, I think she was just as exhausted as I was.

Afterwards, Anna pressed two fifty dollar bills into my hand. I stared at her in surprise, not sure what she was trying to pay me for.

“It’s the money Seth gave me yesterday,” she said impatiently. “Just take it, okay? We need food or we’ll starve.”

We did need food, but I still wanted to argue with her on this. I wanted to argue with her for taking money from Seth and for making me take it now. Except, she was right. We would starve without food, and I didn’t tutor until Friday. That was still two days away.

“Okay, I’m taking it,” I said in defeat. “But that doesn’t mean I’m happy about it.”

“You can’t do everything yourself, Estee. Sometimes you have to accept help from other people.”

I couldn’t even begin to explain to Savannah how important it was for me to do everything myself. That there was no one in this world who could truly help me or the people I loved, which was why I had to do it.

When Savannah headed out with her friends, I took a quick shower and, afterwards, just stood there and stared at myself in the mirror. I stared at myself and wondered why everything was so wrong in my life and why bad things happened to my family. First Dad lost his job and gambled our savings; then Mom left and I was forever changed

My eyes shot to the scar on my arm and I allowed hot tears to burn my eyes and fall down my face. I stood there a little longer until the lump in my throat dissolved and I could focus on my scar without blurred eyes.

Then I went into my room and grabbed the permanent marker from my desk and wrote over the disfiguration until the dark strokes and my skin were one and the same.

* * *

The rest of the week dragged by, and I was relieved when Friday finally came around.

Sure, I was somewhat wary at being employed by a Madden, but I was doing this to help my family. Besides, I couldn’t help but be a little curious of the notorious Madden family. It wasn’t every day that you got an inside look into their lives.

After school, Mariah drove me to Penthill and talked endlessly about her boyfriend, Connor, so I didn’t really need to say much. I was thankful for Ray’s chatter because it gave me time to think about how I would act around Vincent.

I still had mixed feelings about him. On one hand, I knew I should be afraid of him, but on the other, I couldn’t ignore the anxious butterflies that exploded inside my stomach whenever he got close to me.

Normally, I didn’t take much of an interest in boys—I usually just avoided them and turned down the ones that did ask me out—but Vincent intrigued me. I wasn’t sure what it was about him, but I wanted to get to know him. At the same time, I wanted to stay away from him. These feelings he stirred inside of me were terrifying.

Anyway, I wasn’t the type of girl I expected him to go for. He probably found me about as interesting as a rubber pot plant. The way I dressed—long, baggy clothing, even in summer--was to keep wandering eyes off me. Despite, my best efforts, people still commented on my appearance and insisted that I could be a model, but I could never do anything that put me in the spotlight like that.

No. My body needed to stay covered. There was a scar burned into it that I never wanted anyone to see.

All I wanted to do was keep my head down, study hard, and get a scholarship to college. Then I could make a better life for myself and for Savannah.

When Mariah pulled into the parking lot of the library, Vincent was already there. This time, though, there was no truck. Instead, Vincent was leaning against a black motorcycle with his bare arms crossed over his chest.

“Do you think he’s one of the Madden gang?” Mariah asked, staring out the window at Vincent. “I hope not. He’s pretty hot.”

“Yes, he is.”

Ray turned to me in surprise, looking like she’d run into a brick wall. “Seriously? You think he’s hot?”

“No! I mean, yes, he is, but that’s not what I meant.” I felt embarrassed that I was acting so silly when it came to admitting that Vincent was attractive. “I meant, yes, he is in the Madden gang.”

I must’ve sounded pretty confident, because Mariah picked up on it. “How do you know? Have you seen him with the Madden gang before?”

Not meeting her eye, I reached over to the backseat of the car and grabbed my bag. “He’s an actual Madden, and he’s also my boss.”

“What? Shut the fuck up!” Mariah grasped my shoulder before I could even open up the door. “Is this your idea of a joke? Because it’s not funny.”

Sighing, I turned to face her. “No, Ray, I’m not joking. Vincent Madden is my boss. I tutor his little brother, Dylan.”

“Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I’m not even sure I know what I’m doing.”

“No shit!”

The wide-eyed, open-mouthed expression on Ray’s face was quite comical, but I barely had time to register it because all of a sudden, the door was pulled open and I almost fell out from the weight of Mariah’s hand pushing into my shoulder.

My world quickly tilted upwards—I saw the ceiling of Ray’s car, the doorframe, and then obsidian eyes before falling against Vincent’s firm chest.

“Oh!” I cried, feeling my face heat up.

With all honesty, I couldn’t think of anything else to say. Vincent had a ridiculous effect on me every time he got too close. It was like there was an unspoken line between us that neither of us dared to cross, but sometimes we tested the waters just to get a taste of what the other side was like.

“You were taking a long time,” Vincent said, as though that was supposed to explain why my head was practically in his lap. “I thought maybe this girl was holding you hostage or something.”

“You could call it that,” I grumbled, as Vincent pushed me upright, so I was once again staring at Ray’s awestruck face. Well, that’s what her expression looked like, anyway. It could’ve been fear for all I knew.

“Whatever,” Vincent said, stepping away from the car. “Hurry up. You’re late.”

Irritation blossomed and slapped me in the chest, and I scrambled out of the car. “I go to this thing every weekday. It’s called school.”

Vincent didn’t say anything. Instead, he stuck his middle finger to acknowledge that he’d heard me.

Jerk!

“Estee! Are you sure you wanna go with him?” I was so annoyed with Vincent that I’d forgotten to shut the car door or say anything to Mariah.

When I turned back to Mariah, she was leaning so far across the passenger seat, staring at Vincent, that I was sure she was going to snap her seatbelt in half.

Fixing her with a reassuring smile, I grabbed my bag and shut the door. “It’s okay. If he was going to do anything to me, he would’ve done it by now.”

“He’s a Madden!” Mariah shrieked, as though that was her winning argument.

“I’m fine, Ray, honestly. We’ll talk about it later.”

Mariah stared at me as though I had lost my mind, but she could tell there was no way she’d change my mind, especially since I was technically known as the responsible one in our group of friends.

“So, do I pick you up from here?”

Before I could respond, Vincent spoke from somewhere behind me. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll take you home when you’re done.”

He was closer than I’d expected, and his voice sent a line of tingles running right down my spine. When I turned around, he was standing right behind me.

“You’re taking me home?”

Vincent gave me a casual shrug. “I figured I might as well pick up my jacket while I’m there.”

I turned back to Mariah, trying to gather my thoughts. I wasn’t sure if I wanted Vincent knowing where I lived. Then again, he was in a criminal gang, so I’m sure he had ways of finding these things out. He probably already knew my address, my date of birth, and the name of my first grade teacher.

“Jacket?” Mariah mouthed at me, looking as though she might pass out.

I waved her off. “I’ll call you when I get home, okay?”

Mariah shot me daggers. “You better freaking call me.” She didn’t say anything to Vincent as she straightened back into her seat again.

As I turned back to Vincent, he started walking back towards his bike again and I hurried up to match his quick strides.

“Where’s Dylan? Is he already inside?” My eyes sought out the adorable blonde-haired boy who looked so different to his brother.

“He’s at home.” Vincent reached his motorcycle and grabbed the helmet hanging from the back.

I stopped walking. “So, when is he coming here?”

“He’s not. We’re going to him.” Vincent turned and tossed me the helmet.

The helmet fell into my open hands, but I didn’t put it on. I just kept staring at Vincent as he climbed onto his bike and gunned the engine.

“I am not going to your house! This wasn’t part of the deal!”

Vincent shot me a glare. “Believe me, I don’t want you at my house, but Dylan’s sick and there is no way I’m letting him go out in this weather.” He gestured with a hand as though to emphasize how cold it was. “He’s having a breakdown about how he’s failing his classes, and because I won’t let him go out, he wants you to come over and tutor him.”

What Vincent was saying made sense, but I still didn’t know if it was such a good idea to be going over to the Madden’s house. It was the Madden’s house—the headquarters for all the criminal activity that went on around these parts!

“I don’t know…” I trailed off, glancing back at Mariah’s car, which was still stopped in the parking lot.

Clearly, she didn’t trust to drive off just yet either. I could still get away. I didn’t have to go through with this. No sane person would go through with this.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Vincent snapped, pulling his phone out of his pocket.

He furiously punched in a couple of numbers into his phone, his brow furrowing, and held the phone to his ear. “Hey, kid, talk to your tutor. She’s being a stubborn ass.”

I bristled at the fact that Vincent had just referred to me as a stubborn ass, and gingerly took the phone from him.

“H-hello?”

There was a violent fit of coughing on the other end. “Estella? Is it okay if you come to our house? Vin said I can’t go out when I’m like this and I reeeally wanted to study today.” The coughing resumed, and I waited until Dylan quieted down before speaking.

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea. Your brother doesn’t seem to want me to go to your house, either.” I chanced a look at Vincent, but he was pointedly staring in the other direction, refusing to make eye contact with me.

“Please, Estella. Pleeeeeease!” Dylan started coughing again.

“Sweetie, did your mom make you some chicken soup for your throat?”

Vincent’s head shot up, and he deliberately turned his head side to side as though he was trying to tell me something. Was this a topic I should be avoiding?

“Our mom left us,” Dylan said in a small voice.

My heart shattered into tiny pieces. Sure, my mom had done more or less the same thing, but I had been a teenager when she’d left us. During my childhood, she had been wonderful and attentive and loving. I couldn’t even begin to imagine what it was like to not have your mother around at such a young age.

Tears were starting to prick my eyes, but I ignored them and tried to force a smile into my voice. “Never mind, I’ll make you chicken soup. How does that sound?”

Dylan sounded happier when he spoke. “Really? You would do that?”

“Of course, sweetie. I’ll pick up some groceries on my way over.” It barely crossed my mind that I was now voluntarily going to the Madden house. In all honesty, I couldn’t stand to disappoint Dylan. “But I have one condition. Tell your brother to be nice to me.”

Vincent’s bottom lip curled as I handed him the phone, and I tried to hide a smile at the look of confusion on his face as he listened to what Dylan was saying. “Yeah, Dil, yeah. I am being nice. This is my nice voice. Whaddya mean ‘nice face’? Yeah, okay, we’re coming now, boss.”

Vincent hung up and slipped the phone into his pocket. Then he shot me a look of pure loathing and irritation. “I don’t do nice.”

While I secured the helmet onto my head, I matched the expression on his face, not allowing myself to be intimidated by him. “I know it’s probably hard for a big, bad, tough Madden to be well-mannered, but that’s my condition. You have to be nice. If it makes you um-wussy or whatever you call it, then get over it.”

There was an awkward silence, and Vincent continued to stare at me like I was a specimen in a lab. Then the edge of his lip curled up just the slightest. “Get on the bike, Stelle.”

The butterflies in my stomach intensified at him using the name he always called me. It was the way he said it—like I was his Stelle—that made me fluttery inside.

Vincent climbed on and waited for me to mount the bike. I stared at it in half trepidation and the other half in fear. I had never been this close to a bike before. Did I just climb on? What did I hold onto? What if I fell off?

Gulping, I approached the bike with wide eyes, and gingerly swung my leg over the other side. Then I planted myself firmly in the seat and grasped the edge of the seat with both hands.

“You gotta grab on with both hands, darlin’.” Vincent turned his head just the slightest. Obviously, he was blind. I was grabbing on with both hands.

“That’s exactly what I’m doing.”

“No,” he growled, his tone causing more shivers to race down my spine. Then he reached around, grabbed both my arms with his firm hands, and wrapped them around his waist. “Like this.”

Heat crept across my body at having my body pressed against Vincent’s. It probably wasn’t a big deal to him—he was probably used to girls touching him all the time—but to me it was like a fire was slowly heating me from the inside out.

“And, Stelle?” he asked, turning back to face the front.

“Yes?” I managed to choke out.

“On my side of town, we don’t say wussy.” There was a teasing lilt to his voice. “We say pussy.”

The heat exploded inside me, and I had no words to say. Thankfully, Vincent gunned the engine, saving me from turning into a spluttering fool, and he sped out of the parking lot with me gripping onto him for dear life.

The wind whipped past my face and the world was a blur of colors and sounds. Once the initial fear of being on the bike wore off and I opened my eyes, I was amazed by the way the world shifted and moved around me, like everything was still the same but I was experiencing it in a new and different way.

My trepidation was now simply replaced with awe and the sensation that in this brief moment, I was once again alive.

Chapter Eight

Vincent

About thirty minutes later, Estella followed me into my house.

When I turned around to face her, she seemed nervous—her eyes were roaming the hallway as though she was waiting for someone to jump out with a loaded gun. Actually, that wasn’t too hard to believe. Tyson had pulled that on me once, stupid ass.

“Kitchen’s that way,” I said, nodding off to the doorway on the left.

Estella followed where I’d motioned, but before she could even take a step, Dylan came tearing out of his room like a freaking tornado. “Estella! You came!”

Completely ignoring me, he barreled right into Estella and wrapped his arms around her. The bag of groceries she’d been holding almost fell out of her hands as she gazed down at my brother with affection.

“How could I not come when you asked so nicely?” She didn’t sound annoyed at all; she sounded like she didn’t really mind.

Dylan stepped back and surveyed the bag of groceries in Estella’s hands. “Are you making me chicken soup?”

“I sure am. It needs time to stew, so we can get some work done while we wait for it to cook.” Estella glanced up at me, appearing anxious. “Will you be joining us, Vincent?”

It’d been years since I’d had a proper home-cooked meal. That frozen shit from boxes and frying up eggs in the morning didn’t really count. None of us could cook for shit, and eating food made by a woman was something else.

So, hell yeah, I was tempted to stick around and watch Estella as she cooked and then eat her chicken soup, but that was exactly why I couldn’t stay. Because I wanted to. Because this girl was different. Because she didn’t want to sleep with me. She didn’t back down from a disagreement, despite how intimidated she was by me.

This girl was trouble because she was different. And I needed to keep my goddamn distance from her.

“Nah,” I said, trying to appear indifferent, “I got shit to do. I’ll be back in an hour.”

“Oh, okay.” Dylan’s face fell and I hated myself for disappointing him. The kid had been through enough abandonment in his short ten years of life, and here I was adding to it.

Still, I couldn’t do it. I had to get out of here and go someplace where I could clear my head.

For a split second, it looked like Estella was going to say something, but instead she bit down on her bottom lip as though to control herself. Her whiskey eyes were saying everything that her gorgeous mouth wouldn’t—she wasn’t impressed that I was leaving, especially since it was clear that Dylan wanted me to stay.

“If either one of my older brothers come home, don’t talk to them unless they talk to you.” I glanced at a spot just beside Estella’s head as I spoke, careful not to stare into the eyes that tormented me. “Dylan knows what to say if they start asking questions.”

My little brother nodded, but the sad look was still on his face. I’d have to make it up to him somehow.

“See ya soon, kid,” I said, ruffling his hair before walking out and leaving behind the girl who made me think too much about a life that I wanted but could never have.

* * *

When I came back an hour later, unfamiliar music was drifting in from the kitchen.

My ears tried to make sense of the saxophone and piano playing and the smooth male voice that was singing. What the hell? Was that jazz?

The delicious smell of chicken and something else greeted me as soon as I stepped into the house. Damn. The smell was making my stomach growl.

Estella and Dylan weren’t at the kitchen table like I’d expected them to be. There were books spread out across the table so that the wood was only visible in slivers, but neither of them was sitting down.

Instead, they were in the center of the kitchen, laughing as they spun around the room together—they were dancing.

No one had danced in this house in a long time.

Dylan’s portable radio sat on the kitchen counter, playing the jazz song which I was unfamiliar with. This wasn’t really the kind of music I listened to. I liked my music loud and fast.

I leaned against the doorframe, watching the way Dylan’s eyes were bright as he and Estella shuffled around, his hands on her waist. It was good to see him act more his age. The kid was so obsessed with doing well in school that he forgot to just relax and have fun.

But what really had my insides jumping was the way Estella’s long honey-brown hair flowed around her like waves. The way her laughter seemed to warm every goddamn dark place inside my soul. The way her smile caused my heart to accelerate like I was a kid who’d just hit puberty.

The girl was beautiful. Not hot, not sexy, not a babe—she was just beautiful.

There was something about her, something I couldn’t figure out. She was everything I’d lacked from a female growing up; she was everything I’d hoped my mother would be when I was a kid—caring, genuine, kind.

I’d known she was trouble the first night I’d met her. Now I knew why. Estella was who I’d been waiting for my entire life.

Dylan finally noticed me standing in the doorway and dropped his hands from Estella’s waist. A frown disturbed his features as he pressed against Estella’s side, waiting to see what I would say.

It was pretty obvious he still had the shits with me for leaving earlier.

When Estella turned around to see why he’d stopped, her face went red and she seemed out of breath. “Vincent!” Her tone was higher than usual. “We were just, um, Dylan was saying how he doesn’t know how to dance, so-”

Ignoring her, I glanced over at Dylan instead. “You’re supposed to be studying, kid.”

Dylan shrugged, a pout forming on his mouth. “We were taking a break. Estella’s teaching me how to dance. You should let her teach you, too.”

Straightening up, I approached the table and pulled out a chair before sitting down, without responding. I didn’t fucking dance. I was Vincent Madden. I didn’t dance.

My stomach growled in a way as if to say, ‘fucking feed me’. “You still got food left?”

Neither Estella nor Dylan said anything, but Dylan came over and gathered up all his books and left the room, carrying them in his arms.

While Dil was gone, Estella walked over to the bubbling pot on the stove. She turned off the heat and then began spooning the soup into the bowls—I noticed there were three—sitting on the counter.

Dil raced back into the kitchen and grabbed spoons out of the drawer. He placed them in the center of the table and then sat down across from me, watching Estella expectantly. I studied him, smiling at the way his skin was a light pink. This morning, he’d been really pale. Being around Estella made him feel better somehow.

When Estella was done, she walked over to the table and placed a bowl down in front of Dylan and me, before getting her own bowl and joining us at the table.

We ate the soup in silence and, damn, was it good. I hadn’t eaten anything like this in about eight years since our grandma had died, and Dil had never had a home-cooked meal like this before. The Madden brothers weren’t exactly the chicken soup-cooking kind of guys.

Dylan and I finished eating at the same time, and I took his bowl and went to get more soup since Estella was still eating.

“Do you like it, Dylan?” Estella asked once I was sitting back down again.

Dylan nodded enthusiastically. “I’ve never had this before! You should make it again!”

There was silence as we continued eating. When we were done, Estella rose from her seat, cleared the table, and then proceeded to wash the dishes.

I just stared at her in amazement. There was a woman in my house, cooking and cleaning, and I wasn’t fucking her. That was a first.

A few minutes later, I sent Dylan to bed early—he was still coughing and sneezing, despite trying to act like he was fine—and then drove Estella home.

Neither of us spoke to each other until we got to Estella’s house.

“Thank you,” she said, hopping off the bike and handing me the helmet. “And, good night.”

I really wanted to say more to her. I wanted to acknowledge our encounter on Monday night because there had been something, I don’t know, different about it. But since she hadn’t said anything about it either, I didn’t know if she just wanted to act like it had never happened.

So instead of making an idiot out of myself, I said nothing and drove off, away from the girl who seemed to fit into my life so perfectly.

Chapter Nine

Estella

My arrangement with Vincent continued for the next two weeks like a strange routine I couldn’t bring myself to break.

Every Tuesday and Friday afternoon, I would wait outside the Penthill library for Vincent to pick me up. We never spoke except for a generic greeting before Vincent rode me over to his house.

The silences that stretched between Vincent and I were bizarre. It wasn’t an awkward silence and it wasn’t a silence that came about from having nothing to say to each other. On the contrary, there was so much I wanted to say to Vincent, so much I wanted to know about him. I wanted to ask him why he had so many tattoos. I wanted to know about their mother. I wanted to understand his reasons for being in a gang.

Most of all, I wanted to know if he still thought about that first night we’d run into each other.

Similarly, I felt like the silence Vincent directed towards me was forced, like he was intentionally trying to stop himself from saying too much. It was weird how we were both in perfect sync when it came to avoiding communication.

So, for two weeks we stuck to the same routine. We’d get groceries and then Vincent would drop me off at his house. I would start dinner and tutor Dylan while I cooked in between. Then, once our hour was up, I would turn on the radio to the jazz station, and Dylan and I would dance.

I had no idea where Vincent disappeared to during this time, but exactly an hour later he would return and eat dinner with us. After Dylan and I did the dishes together, Vincent would take me home. We would not-communicate some more and when he dropped me off, I would thank him and say good night and he would say nothing.

I kept waiting for something to go wrong, but everything continued in this weird, normal routine. Well, as normal as it could be when you went to the house of the Madden gang leader twice a week.

The two older Madden brothers had yet to show up. Dylan had informed me that they were away for a couple of weeks on business. I didn’t want to consider what the word “business” implied in their line of work. It was probably best if I didn’t know.

To be honest, the Madden’s property was pretty peaceful. They had a large block of land just off the main road and a creek ran just past their house. I hadn’t even sensed the faintest hint of trouble since I’d first started coming here, and I had a feeling that it had a lot to do with Dylan, and Vincent’s determination to seemingly want a better life for his little brother.

The most disturbing thing about the entire place? Believe it or not, it was how at peace I felt there.

Today, I’d driven straight to their house because it was one of those days where Dad hadn’t gone to work because he’d been passed out drunk. I’d taken that opportunity to drive his station wagon to school with me and then to the Madden’s house afterwards. I didn’t like depending on Vincent to give me rides; I preferred to take care of things myself.

As I pulled into their dusty driveway, a popping sound nearly made me jump out of my skin. With a sinking feeling, I recognized that the popping sound had been me getting a flat tire.

I climbed out of the car and rounded the side, checking for the flat as I went. Once I reached the back, I easily spotted the deflated tire on the left.

Great. Just what I needed. I wasn’t really in the mood to be changing a tire.

I mean, I was pretty sure I knew how to change a tire. Sure, Nathan and Savannah had helped me on both occasions, but I’d paid attention as they’d changed it and was pretty confident in my tire-changing abilities. Sort of.

With a sigh, I popped open the trunk and pulled out the spare, the jack, and the tire iron before crouching down and putting the jack into position and elevating the car so I could start undoing the lug nuts.

Feeling pretty pleased with myself, I tried to unscrew a lug nut but only met resistance. Was I turning it the wrong way? Frowning, I tried to turn it the other way but nothing moved either. I put a little more effort into it, but my hands began to hurt from the strain.

What the heck? Nathan and Savannah had made this look so easy. I could cook, I could clean, I could sew, and I could quilt better than anyone’s grandma, but I couldn’t unscrew a darn lug nut!

“Oh, you piece of tosh!” The British accent I often adopted when I was alone slipped into my tone as I became frustrated at my below average tire-changing abilities.

There was a snicker from behind me, and I spun around, my cheeks flaming up at the sight of Vincent standing behind me.

I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw that none of his tattoos were visible. He was dressed all in black with a white t-shirt visible through his half-zipped leather jacket—his jeans fit him in a way that made the heat pool in my cheeks.

His hair was styled messily as usual and a couple of strands fell into his obsidian eyes as he watched me. Those full lips of his were curved in a smirk and for a brief second I wondered what it would be like to kiss them.

“The weird British girl is back again, huh?” he asked, casually shoving a hand into the pocket of his jeans.

“I-I-” I spluttered for a while before regaining my composure and learning how to speak again. “I’m changing a flat.”

Okay, so that was a ridiculous thing to say since it was pretty obvious what I was doing, but honestly, sometimes I lost the ability to speak around Vincent, especially when his dark eyes studied me as though they were searching my innermost thoughts.

He had an effect on me that I wasn’t quite sure how to explain—it was kind of like my body was on fire but being mildly electrocuted in water at the same time. Yes, that sounded painful, but there was no other way to describe the strange way he made me feel.

“Oh, is that what you’re doing?” The smirk spread across his mouth, pulling it into the sexiest half-smile I’d ever seen; it was like being slapped across the face. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you might need some serious help.”

I wasn’t sure why Vincent’s words had gotten to me—maybe I was embarrassed that I couldn’t change a tire, or maybe it was because I was embarrassed about the way I felt around him—either way, irritation had become my primary emotion.

“This might surprise you, but I’m not some damsel in distress. I know how to change a tire.” My voice came out harsher than I’d intended and for a second I actually felt guilty for coming across so rude.

Sure, Vincent had been pretty cold towards me the last few times I’d been here, but there was no reason for me to be acting the same way. It frustrated me how he brought out this whole other side to me. It was a side I wasn’t sure what to think of.

That guilt quickly vanished when Vincent’s lips turned upwards in a smirk. “Was that why you were turning the lug nut the wrong way?”

My face suddenly felt hot again, like I’d doused it in lava. I dropped the tire iron and rose to my feet, looking Vincent squarely in the eyes. “Look, I know what I’m doing.” My voice faltered at the intense look in his eyes. A heat was radiating from his body and seeping into mine, making it difficult to think. “I just-uh find your annoying eyes on me disturbing.”

“I have annoying eyes?” He cocked a brow that made my stomach twist into knots. “Well, let me just step aside with my eyes and I’ll have a word with them about their annoying behavior.”

“Don’t talk to me like that!” Yes, that was the best retort I could come up with at the moment. I was so annoyed and embarrassed and mortified that I couldn’t think straight.

Vincent held up his hands in a way of surrender. “Hey, hey, no need to get so mad now, Stelle.”

“I’m not mad,” I protested, even though I wanted to stamp my foot like an insolent child. I forced a smile onto my face. “See, I’m smiling.”

“Your smile doesn’t reach your eyes.”

“That’s because you annoy me!”

Vincent cocked his head to the side, looking thoughtful. “No, your smile never quite reaches your eyes. It’s like it’s trying to get there but there isn’t enough to really light you up.”

I stared at him stunned, not really sure what to say. Where was this coming from? How often did Vincent watch me? He had clearly watched me enough to notice something so personal about me. He had found a piece of my truth that no one else ever saw.

We were doing that thing again—where there was complete silence and we were simply content to look at each other. We hadn’t looked at each other like this since the first night we’d met and now I knew that I hadn’t imagined anything—something really had changed in me that night. Vincent had changed me somehow.

Our silence was suddenly disturbed by the sound of engines cutting through the air. The sound of approaching motorcycles was unmistakable, and I barely had a second to glance at Vincent and gauge his reaction before eight bikes pulled up into the large, dusty area that I always called the “driveway” for lack of a better word.

“Fuck,” Vincent growled in an undertone.

Apprehension sank into me as I took in the intimidating men while they climbed off their bikes and moved towards like a pack of well-coordinated wolves on the prowl.

Oh no. If Vincent was worried then we were in trouble. Was this the rival Allbrook gang I’d heard so many bad things about? Had they come here to start trouble with Vincent?

One of the guys walked right up to Vincent and stopped, but instead of looking angry, his face broke into a smile. “Vin! We thought we’d come to you today!”

Doing a double take, I looked between Vincent and the guy in surprise. Vincent gave me a reassuring nod—these were friends; they were in the Madden gang.

The guy that’d spoken was tall, broad shouldered, and a lot bigger than Vincent. He had a goatee and a faint moustache. The tattoos on his bare arms were large and intimidating images of skulls and serpents. I immediately felt uncomfortable and turned away as the skin on the left side of my arm began to prickle.

The rest of the guys from the Madden gang began speaking at once and my eyes began to swim from the sight of their tattoos. I felt suffocated; trapped.

Just as I was just about to take a step back, Vincent slipped his hand into mine. The feel of his calloused hand against mine both thrilled and terrified me. I wasn’t sure why he was holding my hand, but I knew that I didn’t hate it as much as I wanted to.

There was something about Vincent that made me feel safe. He was the kind of guy who would protect you or die trying. There was something about that notion that I found intriguing.

A hush fell across the guys as their eyes darted between Vincent and me, like they couldn’t quite believe what they were seeing.

“Vin, who’s this?” the guy with the goatee asked, fixing me with a hard look.

Vincent released my hand and I felt a twinge of disappointment. “She’s the kid’s tutor Estella.” Vincent nodded at the guy. “Stelle, this is The Goat, but you can call him Goat.”

My eyebrows shot up as I took in the burly man in front of me. Despite my anxiety at being around nine members of the Madden gang, my curiosity got the better of me. I’d always wanted to know more about these people and now I had a chance.

“The Goat? You don’t look like a goat; more like a bull or a moose, but not a goat.”

Goat continued to stare at me, and I suddenly felt nervous. I’d just called a member of the Madden gang a moose. I was so dead.

Then something flashed in Goat’s eyes and a grin broke out across his face. I glanced at Vincent and found him trying to fight a smile. Relief flooded me when I realized that Goat probably wasn’t going to kill me today.

“I like her, Vin.” Goat continued grinning at me. “She’s not like the trash you usually hang around with.”

“Trash?” I wondered out loud. What kind of girls did Vincent usually hang around with?

Goat nodded, a smirk on his face. “More trash than a garbage dump. There was this one girl who had the biggest-”

“Cut it out, Goat.” Vincent elbowed him, and Goat let out a peal of laughter that made me want to join in. He really didn’t seem very intimidating anymore.

“You gonna introduce the rest of us or what?” A guy with spiky brown hair and bright blue eyes stepped forward. I was sure he had tattoos, but because he was wearing a leather jacket none of them were visible, thank goodness.

Vincent rolled his eyes, but it was clear that he was far from annoyed. “Stelle, this is Three.” My eyebrows shot up again, and Vincent let out a low chuckle which caused the tiny hairs on my arms to rise. “He’s the third William in his family, so we call him Three. That’s Todd, Topher, West, Hudson, Riley, and Cohen.” Vincent pointed out each guy in turn and they either waved or nodded at me.

I was trying to match the names to the faces and was pretty sure I had them all memorized when Three spoke again. “We thought we’d come see you first and say hi to the kid before we leave.”

“Leave?” My eyes shot to Vincent in question. “Where are you going?”

“We go riding for an hour every Tuesday and Friday,” Cohen supplied. “It’s a new thing we started doing a couple weeks ago.”

The pieces clicked together in my brain. So this is what Vincent did when he left Dylan and I for an hour—he hung out with his friends. This newfound knowledge annoyed me. Was hanging out with his friends more important than sticking around for an hour to support his brother?

“Uh…yeah, I guess.” Vincent seemed embarrassed, and ran a hand through his hair as he looked out across the large property to where an empty field spread out for miles. “Stelle’s about to make dinner anyway.”

“I like a woman who can cook,” Three said, placing an arm over my shoulder. “What’re you making, Stelle?”

Three was so close that I could see a faint scar just above his right eyebrow. His sudden proximity to me made me uncomfortable. I didn’t like it when people touched me and invaded my personal space.

“Knock it off.” The smile was gone from Vincent’s face and I could tell he wasn’t in such a good mood anymore. “No one calls her Stelle but me. It’s Estella to you.”

Well, this was interesting. Vincent’s show of ownership over my name had come from nowhere. I didn’t even think it was a big deal to him that he called me Stelle. Clearly, I’d thought wrong.

“Sorry, Vin.” Three stepped away from me, raising his hands in surrender. “I’m just fucking hungry.”

“Yeah, me too,” Goat spoke up. “What you making?”

“Uhh…mac and cheese.” I was kind of embarrassed now. It wasn’t like I was making a culinary masterpiece.

Strangely enough, the boys acted like I was making a culinary masterpiece. They seemed impressed as they glanced around at each other, nodding in approval.

“You got enough for us?” Goat asked.

There would be eleven of us altogether, including Dylan, Vincent, and I. There would only be enough food for a small number of people, but it was easy enough to get some more groceries.

When I looked to Vincent to see his reaction, he had a small smile on his face. “It’s up to you. You’re the one cooking.”

Surprised that he’d let me make the final decision, I surveyed the boys, smiling at the expectant looks on their faces. “Well, if we get lots and lots of pasta and cheese, I don’t see why not.”

The guys let out cheers and I couldn’t help but smile as they started talking all at once again. Then my smile faded as reality set in.

I had to cook for eleven people!

Chapter Ten

Vincent

Routine. Stability. Love. Those were things that I wasn’t used to.

Chaos. Resentment. Indifference. They were words better used to describe how I lived.

Yet as Estella’s fingers dug into my jacket and the side of her head pressed into my back, it was starting to dawn on me that she had brought routine, stability, and love into my home without me even realizing it.

It had taken an ordinary, average day like this one for me to even realize what had happened.

As usual, I’d picked her up from the library and now we were on our way back to my house so she could tutor Dylan and get started on dinner for us. The boys had been so impressed with her cooking mac and cheese the other night, they’d wanted to come over for dinner again, but I’d let them know that Estella cooking for them wasn’t going to be a regular thing.

Things had to be kept under control. I couldn’t let Estella become a familiar thing. I couldn’t let everyone form attachments with her, because she wasn’t a sure thing. She could up and leave at any time.

That thought made me grip the handles tighter as I turned into the long, dusty road that led to the house. If Estella left for good, it would devastate Dylan. It was too late for him—he’d already formed an attachment with her; he already loved her.

Even I’d been affected by her. I was wrestling with these feelings that were growing daily; that increased the more time I spent around her. This wasn’t a girl I just wanted to screw; I wanted to make her smile the way she made everyone around her smile. The way she made me smile.

But I shouldn’t want that. I shouldn’t want to do that for her. Ryder would hate the feelings that were awakening inside of me. He’d call me weak. He’d call me a pussy. But for some reason I didn’t care. This was something he would never understand.

And for whatever reason I wanted to make her smile. I wanted to make her smile for real. I wanted to be that person and I didn’t even know why.

I pulled into the driveway out the front of the house and felt a twinge of disappointment as Estella released me and climbed off. I really wouldn’t have cared if she’d held on for a bit longer.

She turned to me, her eyes bright as she handed me the helmet. “I never thought I’d ever say that I enjoyed riding on a bike.”

“Really?” I turned off the engine and hopped off the bike, placing the helmet on the seat. “If you ever want to learn how to ride one, I can teach you.”

“Oh, no.” Estella laughed nervously, shaking her head so that her long honey brown hair spilled around her shoulders like waves. “I’m not that adventurous. It just feels good to close my eyes and escape. I like holding onto you as you drive.” Suddenly she stopped, her cheeks turning a cute shade of pink. “Oh, um, I mean, by holding onto you I meant-”

A laugh escaped me as I leaned in closer to her, tilting my head so that her lips were inches away from mine. “It’s okay to be attracted to me. You’re only human.”

Estella gaped at me, her cheeks turning an even darker shade of pink that made me smile. “I-uh-that’s not it at all.” She took a deep breath as though to compose herself before speaking again. “Are you staying for Dylan’s lesson today?”

“Nah, I’m gonna meet up with the boys.”

“He’d like to have you there with him.” I didn’t like the disappointment in her tone; it made me feel guilty.

“Yeah, I know.” My eyes searched hers, and all I wanted to do was to bring a smile onto her face. An idea scratched at the edge of my mind. “Has Dil shown you the creek yet?”

“No, he hasn’t, but don’t go changing the subject. You should really-”

“Well, come on then, I’ll show you.” I grabbed her by the hand and began pulling her along with me. “It’s just down through those trees. You can hear it if you sit up on the porch.”

“Don’t think that this is the last you’ve heard of this topic,” Estella warned from behind me.

“I didn’t think it would be.” For some reason I was laughing as she fell into step beside me. Estella’s hand was still in mine as we headed down the gravelly path that slithered through the trees and to the creek.

My brothers and I had built a small wooden dock a few years back and restored an old boat that Three’s granddad had given us. It now sat tied to the dock, swaying back and forth in the shallow water. We never took it out on the creek because the last time we’d tried, it’d started filling up with water so we’d fixed it up again and just left it floating there.

“Oh, you have a boat!” Estella said, as the clearing with the dock came into view.

“Yeah, you like it?” I asked, reluctantly releasing her hand as she moved ahead of me.

She turned back to me; her eyes were so bright, it was like an overflowing glass of whiskey. The smile that lit up her face was actually genuine. “It’s so beautiful here, Vincent.”

“Yeah, it’s not too bad.”

“It’s amazing.” Estella was moving toward the dock, speaking at the same time, unable to contain the excitement in her voice. I followed close behind her, in absolute awe that this was the only time I’d ever brought a girl down here without any intention of sleeping with her.

Really, I wasn’t thinking about sleeping with her. I mean, yeah, I couldn’t help but admire the curve of her ass in the fitted jeans she was wearing. It was one of the only times I’d seen her not wearing long, flowing skirts or baggy jeans that gave no shape to her body. Even her cream colored sweater was a little tighter than the ones she usually wore. But it wasn’t even crossing my mind to press her up against a tree, wrap her legs around me, and bang her.

Well, until now. I was a guy after all.

Shaking my thoughts away, I focused on the back of her head as I stepped onto the dock. “We used to bring Dylan down here a lot when he was younger. He loved playing in the water.”

“You came with your parents?” Estella asked, turning her head and watching me carefully.

“No, we don’t have parents.” My tone was harsh but I didn’t really care. It was the truth.

Estella’s eyes grew wide and she chewed on her bottom lip. “Oh, but Dylan said something about your mom leaving…”

“Our mom is a good-for-nothing whore who doesn’t give a damn about any one of us. She slept around with a bunch of guys but somehow managed to have the three of us with one guy. Dylan’s dad is someone else.” I sounded a lot angrier than I’d meant to. “Ryder raised us; he’s the only parent we’ve ever known.”

Instead of shrinking away like I’d expected her to, Estella’s expression softened and she moved closer to me. “I’m so sorry, Vincent.” Her tone was gentle as she laid a hand on my forearm. “I know what that’s like. My mother left us too. Being abandoned makes you feel like somehow you’re not good enough, but that’s not true. The ones who left aren’t good enough.”

I was frozen; I couldn’t move. The way she studied me made me feel like I could tell her everything and she would know how to fix it all. Just that small gesture of placing her hand on my arm suddenly made me feel weightless, like somehow she was taking away all the negatives in my life.

No girl had ever looked past more than just my looks or wanted to have more than a quick thrill of being with a Madden. Why was Estella so different? Why was she nothing like I’d ever experienced before?

“Ryder’s your eldest brother?” she asked when I didn’t say anything.

I hadn’t even realized I’d been silent for so long. “Yeah, he stepped up and took care of us. Now I’m trying to do the same for Dylan.”

Estella moved away from me, and I was once again left feeling disappointed. She moved towards the edge of the dock, peering over the edge at the water. “I can tell how much you care about him. He absolutely adores y-aaah!” Estella let out a shriek as her foot sank right through a rotten plank, and she began to topple over.

With lightning reflexes, I reached out and grabbed her firmly by the waist with both hands before she could fall over and twist her ankle. On instinct, she grabbed a fistful of my shirt to stabilize herself.

“Oh my gosh!” Estella released my shirt and opened up her hand to show me two buttons resting in her palm. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to break your buttons off! I feel awful! I can sew them back for you if you have a sewing kit.”

But I wasn’t even listening to her as I pulled her to me, my hands still wrapped tightly around her waist. That’s when she noticed the embrace; that’s when her eyes fluttered to my face and then to my lips, and when her entire face turned pink again.

My breath hitched as I felt her pulse speed up. The silence grew between us as my eyes wandered over the long waves of her hair that I wanted to tangle my fingers up in, to the amber eyes that I wanted to look into for hours, and then finally to those pink lips that I wanted to taste so bad.

Every single part of me wanted to entangle itself with Estella, and I could tell from the way her body was tensed against mine that she wanted me just as much. Her lips were parted, as though waiting for me to make a move, and there was nothing stopping me from leaning in a few inches and tasting that pretty mouth of hers.

But all of a sudden, Estella pulled away and her eyes darted away from mine. My stomach unclenched and I felt like I could breathe again.

What the hell was wrong with me? I’d almost kissed Estella when I’d been determined to put distance between us. I was losing my damn mind!

Estella’s face was still bright pink and she began to scratch at her left arm. “Um, do you have a, uh, sewing kit?”

I shook my head because words weren’t forming right now.

“Okay, well, I’ll just, um, go back to the house now. Dylan’s probably wondering where we are.”

Without another word, Estella moved past me and left me standing alone. It was pretty clear she couldn’t wait to get away from me. I couldn’t blame her. I wanted to get away from myself too.

Chapter Eleven

Estella

Despite Vincent telling me that they didn’t have a sewing kit in the house, Dylan had managed to find one and talked Vincent into changing his shirt before he’d left to meet up with the rest of the Madden gang.

Clearly, the sewing kit hadn’t been used in years, but it would do for the two buttons I needed to sew back on. Since it wasn’t a particularly cold afternoon, I’d decided to sit out on the front porch to get some fresh air as I sewed the darn buttons back on. Dylan was inside finishing up his homework assignment and keeping an eye on the Bolognese sauce that was simmering on low heat.

And Vincent was right. You could hear the faint trickle of the creek from the porch. It was calming and was really helping with my nerves that had gone haywire when Vincent had touched me.

The memory of how I’d grabbed onto Vincent’s shirt was still fresh in my mind. Could I be any clumsier? I’d managed to break a wooden plank and Vincent’s buttons in one smooth second. And, gosh, the way he’d held me in his arms, well, I couldn’t really describe it. No one had ever held me like that before.

It was hard for me to admit that Vincent made me feel safe and that I actually felt safe in his home. Sure, a part of was still terrified of being caught in the middle of a drive-by crossfire, but my nerves were calming down now that I had fallen into a routine with the two brothers. There was a serenity here that was lacking in my own home. I didn’t feel safe there. I hadn’t in years.

I wasn’t ashamed to admit that I had been wrong about Vincent. I had judged him without really knowing him. He had a side to him that many people rarely saw—the compassionate, caring side that only came out when he was with Dylan had peeked out at me today when he’d shown me the creek.

The sound of an approaching engine disturbed the peace, and I glanced up expectantly as I waited for Vincent’s bike to come around the corner.

Yet, what I was hearing wasn’t a bike; it was a car. Was Vincent expecting someone?

Putting the shirt aside, I rose to my feet and waited.

A couple of seconds later, an unfamiliar truck came around the corner and gave two loud honks. It slowed to a stop just as Dylan tore out of the house and ran past me down the steps.

“Tyson! Ryder!” Dylan called out as two guys got out of the truck.

“Hey, Kid.” The guy that’d spoken was well-built—he was more muscular than Vincent—and bore such a striking resemblance to Vincent that I knew right away that this was his older brother.

The other guy didn’t look very much like either Vincent or Dylan but he shared the same dark hair as Vincent and the other brother. He wasn’t as muscular either; his body was leaner and lankier.

“Tyson, did you bring me back anything?” Dylan fell into step with the lankier brother and looked up at him expectantly.

Feeling uncomfortable, I bent over to pick up Vincent’s shirt, the needle and thread, and the small sewing box Dylan had found. My ears were still entirely focused on the conversation Dylan was having with his brothers.

“Kid, we were doing business,” the other brother—Ryder, I assumed—said. “We ain’t got time to buy presents.”

Dylan’s face fell and Tyson tousled Dylan’s hair in a way of apology. Ryder’s gaze fell on me as I stood on the front porch, and his face pinched in suspicion as the three of them reached me.

“Who the hell is this?” he demanded.

The way he scrutinized me made me feel small and helpless. There was a look in his eyes that terrified me, like he wouldn’t hesitate to put a bullet through my head. This wasn’t someone you messed around with. Authority was oozing from every pore in his body. This man was an Alpha.

Dylan bounded forward and stood in front of me, acting as a buffer. “She’s my tutor.”

Ryder didn’t respond, but his mouth tightened as he strode up the steps and walked inside the house. I flinched when the door slammed shut behind me.

Tyson shot me a look of interest, his eyes travelling the length of my body, but didn’t acknowledge me either before he also went inside. A chill ran down my spine when I noticed the handgun in his back pocket.

When Dylan turned to me, he looked sad. My fear quickly dissipated at his change in mood and I held out a hand for him to take.

“Should I stay out here?” I asked in a quiet voice.

The Madden brothers hadn’t acknowledged me, and I was a little worried about going inside with them there. Sure, I had been inside plenty of times, but I felt like I had fallen to the bottom of the hierarchy somehow.

“No, it’s fine,” Dylan assured me, leading me back into the house. “Vin will be here soon. He’ll take care of everything. He always does.”

That didn’t reassure me a whole lot. Vincent barely acknowledged my existence either, except for this afternoon, so I didn’t see how he would make everything better. For a split second, I seriously considered digging my heels into the ground and refusing to go inside, but I reluctantly followed Dylan anyway.

The aromatic smell of my Bolognese sauce greeted us as we entered the hallway and went into the kitchen. My heart sank when I saw the two brothers hovering around the stove. Ryder had removed the lid of the pot and was sniffing at the contents.

It was like he’d never seen Bolognese sauce before.

“What’s this?” Ryder asked, glaring at the pot.

“Estella’s making spaghetti Bolognese,” Dylan said; the excitement was clear in his voice. “I’ve never had a homemade one before. The one we usually get from—”

Ryder directed his glare at me. “Estella.” His expression was sour, as though my name tasted bitter in his mouth. “Why is she making food? I thought she was your tutor.”

I think it finally dawned on Dylan that his brother wasn’t sharing his enthusiasm. Tyson was leaning against the counter, studying me like he couldn’t figure out what I was doing here. At least the look in his eyes wasn’t as hostile as Ryder’s.

“S-she is,” Dylan stammered.

Ryder’s tone was filled with disbelief as he pointed at me. “Then why is she cooking and sewing?”

Before either one of us could say anything, an engine cut through the silence outside and relief flooded me. Vincent was home.

Dylan must’ve jumped to the same conclusion, because he bolted out of the kitchen, and I heard the front door swing shut.

An awkward silence ensued as Tyson and Ryder stared me down. A surge of anger was slowly building up within me. Who the heck did they think they were trying to intimidate me like that? I’d done nothing wrong, yet they looked at me like I was a parasite.

Feeling brave, I tossed my head back and met them with a look of defiance. I was a big sister; I was used to petulance from Savannah. I wasn’t going to let these two intimidate me. I didn’t want them to think that they had gotten to me.

I had been through so much in my life; I wasn’t going to let a pair of delinquents get to me. Sure, a part of me was terrified, but another part of me didn’t care. I would never let a bunch of thugs scare me.

There were footsteps behind me, but I didn’t turn around. I was frozen; locked in this staring match with Ryder, refusing to back down.

“Stelle.” The voice was gentle in my ear.

I still didn’t turn around. I was strong. I would not give in. I was strong. I could handle this. Nothing was going to break me down. Not a darn thing.

“Stelle.” Vincent spoke again; this time his voice was firm, filled with authority. This time he wasn’t messing around.

A hand rested on my shoulder, and my entire body slackened as I turn around to meet Vincent’s dark gaze. The look in them was deadly.

He stepped forward and pushed me behind him. My back hit the wall and I closed my eyes. Suddenly, all the bravado left my body and I felt deflated. There was movement beside me and a small hand slipped into mine: Dylan’s.

“Little bro.” Ryder was the one to speak. His words sounded like a taunt, a way to put Vincent down and belittle him.

“You’re back early.” Vincent’s tone was cool, collected.

“Who the fuck is this?”

Was this how the brothers greeted each other? I hated that they were using that kind of language in front of Dylan.

“She’s Estella,” Vincent said, simply. “She tutors Dylan.”

“Are you fucking her?”

My eyes flew open and I straightened up, anger shooting through me. How dare he accuse Vincent of sleeping with me? I wasn’t that kind of girl. I didn’t sleep around with people.

“No, I’m not.” Vincent spoke so calmly that even I wanted to strangle him. How could he stand there and not be affected by what his brother was saying?

“Then why the fuck is she cooking? Why the fuck is she sewing your shirt?” There was accusation in every word that came out of Ryder’s mouth. He said it like doing all that was a bad thing.

“It doesn’t mean anything.”

My eyes widened at the apathy in Vincent’s tone, and a crushing weight descended into my chest. The fact that Vincent thought that my doing all these things for them meant nothing, truly hurt me in a way I hadn’t expected. I knew Vincent and I weren’t friends. We weren’t even close to being friends. I knew he didn’t care for me the way Dylan did, but I figured that he at least would appreciate the things I did for them around the house.

“It better not mean anything,” Ryder said, and there was a threat in his words. “No weaknesses, little bro. Bitches are meant for fucking, not for anything else, you understand me?”

A gasp escaped my mouth, and Ryder must’ve heard it, because he let out a low chuckle. Even his laughter sounded evil.

“I know that,” Vincent said, sounding detached. “I’m not fucking her. She tutors Dylan and cooks for him. He likes it, so I let her do it.”

Vincent had to know that I didn’t just cook for Dylan. He couldn’t be that ignorant. It was obvious I made enough food for all three of us.

“Good,” Ryder said, the hardness gone from his voice. “Keep it that way, little bro.”

When Vincent didn’t respond, Ryder spoke again. “Is Dylan studying hard, Estella?”

Surprise shot through me at the fact that Ryder had addressed me, and I stepped beside Vincent so I could see Ryder better. The hostility was gone from his face; now a smirk played around his lips.

“Yes, he’s very bright,” I responded, keeping my voice even.

Ryder gave a few small nods as though he was really considering my words. “See, the thing is, I think all this school stuff is bullshit. I think that whoever Dylan’s dad was, he was some pompous ass prick, because Dil definitely didn’t get this from us.”

My body tensed at the way Ryder spoke so brashly about Dylan’s parentage. This was all news to me, but the fact that Dylan hadn’t reacted proved that he had heard all of this before.

This ten-year-old boy, who had so many aspirations, was well-adjusted to hearing his older brother’s uninformed opinions. It made me ill, and my heart broke for the life Dylan had been born into. He deserved better than this; he deserved a chance.

“I let Dylan keep up this hobby because Vincent’s so damn insistent about it,” Ryder continued. “If you ask me, learning this shit ain’t gonna get Dylan anywhere. He needs to learn to fight and stand up for himself and stop being such a little pussy.” Ryder’s eyes flickered to me. “So don’t get too comfortable, Estella. Don’t make yourself at home. We ain’t used to having a woman in our house unless we’re banging her brains out.”

There were so many things wrong with what Ryder had just said. The fact that he felt that education was a hobby was completely disturbing. The fact that he had just called his ten-year-old brother a pussy was wrong.  The fact that he believed that women were sexual objects was disgusting.

I waited for Vincent to say something, but he kept his mouth shut. Their other brother, Tyson, was still leaning against the counter and staring up at the ceiling acting like he couldn’t hear a thing that Ryder was saying.

This entire situation was just wrong.

From behind me, Dylan let out a sniffle and my heart completely shattered. Spinning around, I wrapped up the shaking boy in my arms and held him.

There was a crashing sound, and I glanced around to find that the pot of Bolognese sauce was strewn across the kitchen floor. Tyson was staring at it in complete shock, while Ryder’s face was the picture of innocence.

He approached us, his steps slow and deliberate. That smirk still lingered around his mouth as he pulled out a wallet from the back pocket of his jeans and took out a fifty dollar bill.

“Get yourself some real food, Kid,” he said, placing it down on the kitchen table and walking to the doorway. He glanced back at Tyson who still hadn’t moved. “Let’s go, Son.”

Like an obedient puppy, Tyson’s head jerked up and he hurried after Ryder, not looking at any of us as he passed.

The front door slammed shut and an eerie silence descended upon the house.

The silence was brief, because a few seconds later, all hell broke loose.

Chapter Twelve

Vincent

All I saw was red and black.

That’s all I saw as my hands grabbed the edge of the kitchen table and overturned it. That’s all I saw as my finger closed around the chair, lifting it up. That’s all I saw as I began smashing the chair against the floor, wood splintering around me

Screaming filled my ears, but I didn’t pause.

My feet carried me to the kitchen counter and I knocked everything to the ground in one motion. Cutlery, bottles, and God-knows what else, crashed to the floor. There was the sound of something shattering, but I didn’t look around to see what.

My fists found the wall and I began punching, over and over again. The pain shooting through my knuckles barely registered. The anger numbed it all. All I saw was red. All I saw was Ryder’s face.

“Vincent, stop!” The voice was screaming in my ear. Someone was pulling me back, pulling me away. “Vincent, please!”

She sounded desperate, and the fear in her voice was sobering. Staggering, I let her pull me back and gazed into her eyes, trying to find something to hold onto.

Estella’s whiskey eyes were like an anchor; something about her stabilized me. My breathing slowed, but it was ragged and uneven.

I couldn’t get Ryder’s voice out of my head. I couldn’t forget the cruel smirk that had stretched across his face, like it satisfied him to see everyone crumble around him. That was his thing—he liked to mess with people’s heads, and he’d definitely messed with mine.

“You need to calm down. For Dylan. Calm down for him.”

Her words hit home, and I turned to find Dil pressed against the wall, his chest heaving up and down as silent sobs wracked his chest.

Panic shot through me, and I reached Dil in two strides, placing both hands on his shoulders. “Shit, Dil! Dil! Breathe! Breathe, Dil!”

Dylan’s breathing wasn’t slowing as he locked eyes with me, fear and desperation racing through them. Words were forming on his mouth, but they weren’t coming out.

Adrenaline surged through me, and I picked Dylan up and raced to the bathroom, kicking the door open with a foot. From behind me, Estella was crying, asking me what was wrong. I couldn’t answer her. I had to focus on my brother.

Placing Dylan down on the toilet seat, I searched through the cabinet beneath the sink and pulled out his inhaler. "Breathe in, Dil,” I said, my voice gentle as I put the inhaler in his mouth and sprayed it.

Dylan took desperate gulps, and I placed a hand on his shoulder to steady him. “Take your time. You’re gonna be okay, Kid.”

“He’s asthmatic.” Estella’s voice was quiet as she knelt down beside me, and I dared a glance at her.

Her face was wet with tears as she took Dil’s hand in hers. Having her close to him must’ve been a good thing, because Dylan’s breathing slowed down and his face wasn’t so pale anymore.

There was no way in hell I was going to risk him having another attack, so I sprayed the inhaler two more times and made him sit there for five minutes until I was sure he wasn’t going to relapse.

Eventually, he shot me a look of annoyance and pulled the inhaler out of his mouth. “I’m fine, Vin.” His voice was soft and faint. “I want to sleep.”

“Sure, kid. I’ll take you to bed.” I took the inhaler from him before picking him up again and carrying him to his room. Estella followed us but hesitated in the doorway of Dylan’s room.

As I lay Dylan down on his bed, he whispered to me, “Can you tell Estella to come in?”

“Sure, Kid.”

I half-turned to the doorway, not wanting to make eye contact with her. “Stelle, Dylan wants you in here.”

“Oh, sure.” Estella approached the bed and sat on the edge on the opposite side from me. “How are you feeling, sweetie?” She pressed a hand to his forehead and you could practically see the difference in his face at having her beside him.

“Tired,” he said, simply. His brow was furrowed and there was a small pout on his mouth; something was bothering him. “Promise me you’ll come back.”

Startled, Estella looked up and our eyes met. She seemed torn between what she wanted and what Dylan wanted. It was like she was silently begging me for an out.

There was no reason for her to come back here. Ryder wasn’t happy that she played “mom” or “wife” or whatever it was that she did. He was going to be an ass to her if she came back. Ryder had made his stance clear—if knocking Estella’s food to the floor wasn’t clear enough, I didn’t know what was. He didn’t want her around.

Taking a deep breath, I prepared myself to break my kid brother’s heart. “Dylan, I don’t think Estella is gonna—”

“Of course I’ll come back,” Estella responded, lacing her hand with Dylan’s. “I still have to teach you how to make a blueberry pie, don’t I?”

What the hell? Was this girl fucking insane? Didn’t she get Rye’s message?

Trying to catch Estella’s eye had suddenly become my number one priority. I had to make her understand that she couldn’t come back here if she valued her life. She didn’t have to do this to make Dil feel better. We’d find him another tutor—a guy or an old woman. Someone. Anyone. Just not her.

“Really, Estella?” Dylan asked, a smile spreading across his face at her words.

“Really, Dylan.” Estella gave him a small nod. “Now, get some rest, okay? I’ll see you on Tuesday.” Estella stood up and walked out of the room, leaving me alone with my brother.

“I’m gonna take Estella home. I’ll tell Tyson to come back home and keep an eye on ya. You gonna be okay ‘til then?” I asked, helping Dylan get under the covers.

“Yep.” Dylan’s eyes were already closing.

“If you need anything, call me.”

Dylan nodded once to let me know that he’d heard me, and I walked out of the room and headed outside. Estella was standing by my bike, fixated on the dirt road that turned into our property. Her body was tense, as though she was preparing herself for something.

“We need to talk.” The words were out of my mouth before I’d even reached her.

When she turned to face me, there was a crease on the center of her forehead. A frown was playing around her mouth; all traces of the smile she’d had on for Dylan had disappeared. The look made me falter and I forgot what I wanted to talk to her about.

It ate me up inside knowing that I couldn’t bring a smile to her face the way Dylan did. Sure, she’d been truly happy when I’d taken her to the creek, but that had been temporary. I could never really make her happy. There was too much wrong with me. She was a good girl, and I was from the wrong side of town.

“Yes, Vincent, we do need to talk.” Her frown deepened and anger flitted through her eyes. The sheer intensity of them made me take a step back for good measure. Estella wasn’t one to get angry. Yeah, she rose to the challenge and didn’t back down, but I had never seen her angry like this before.

“What happened today was not okay,” she pressed on, not giving me a chance to speak. “Dylan can’t be exposed to behavior like that, ever. I can’t believe the way you all speak in front of him! He’s a child!”

I opened my mouth to say something, but no words came out. No woman had ever spoken to me like that, like I was a badly behaved kid. Within five seconds, I had lost complete control of the situation. And my balls. They’d done a runner on me, too.

“Do you know what triggered Dylan’s asthma attack today?” She paused for a second. “Fear, Vincent. Anxiety. Instability. That’s why your ten-year-old brother had an asthma attack. He’s scared of you.”

That’s when I snapped.

This girl, who didn’t know a fucking thing about me, could tell me off; she could get mad at me for losing control, but there was no way in hell I was going to let her tell me that my own brother was scared of me. Not when I fucking loved that kid more than anything else on this planet.

My feet moved forward until I was inches away from Estella. Something darted across her face—fear, repulsion, wariness. I didn’t know what she was feeling, but I didn’t care. I was too angry to care.

“Don’t you dare say that to me.” My voice was low, but each word sounded dangerous as it left my mouth. “I love Dylan more than you’ll ever know. And he loves me too. I’m all he’s got. And he’s all I got. Don’t come into our lives and tell me that he’s scared of me, ‘cause that ain’t the truth. You don’t know shit about us, so fuck off to your perfect life in suburbia. We don’t need you.”

Once the words left my mouth, I felt like a complete asshole. Especially since Estella looked like she was going to start crying again. The frown had left her face; instead she looked like someone had kicked her in the gut. That would be me.

“You think I live a perfect life?”

I didn’t say anything—there was nothing left for me to say. I’d already fucked up. I knew what I’d said had hurt her, especially after she’d told me that her mother had also abandoned her.

I didn’t know how to fix the situation or how to take back my words. Being a Madden, being in a gang, you didn’t really learn to talk about your feelings.

Estella didn’t say anything else for a good minute. I didn’t say anything either. What the hell was I supposed to say? I’d just ruined any chance of Estella and me being decent towards each other. We barely spoke to each other, and the one time we’d finally communicated, I ended up being a complete douchebag.

Finally, the silence was broken as Estella glanced at my bike. “Could you please take me home now?” Her tone was polite, but I could tell that it was just a shield for the shit I’d just inflicted her with.

“Sure.”

And that’s all I said to her as I got on the bike and waited for her to climb on after me. She didn’t put her arms around me like she always did, and I didn’t bother to move them into their usual position. I felt cold, sick, as I drove her home.

When I pulled up outside her house thirty minutes later and she climbed off, I felt like she was slipping away. She didn’t even bother to say good night as she walked across her front yard and up the stairs.

I didn’t drive off right away. I sat there, watching her fish for her keys; watching the way the porch light illuminated her stony face and highlighted the light tones of her hair.

Even when she’d gone inside, I didn’t drive off. I sat there, wondering why it felt like I was struggling to breathe. Why was my chest constricting painfully? Was that guilt worming its way through me?

And that’s when I realized why all this was happening. It had taken me two weeks, but now I knew. Estella had become familiar. She had become someone I depended on. Estella had secretly crept into my life, and I hadn’t even noticed until this very second.

And I had let her fucking walk out of it.

Chapter Thirteen

Estella

School on Monday was pretty bad.

I’d had a History project to finish up over the weekend, but my mind had kept drifting to a certain tattooed jerk, and I hadn’t been able to put the finishing touches to my project that I’d wanted to.

There was no way I’d get an ‘A’ on it. I’d probably just scrape a ‘B’, and that was only because my History teacher had a soft spot for me.

Slipping grades were not something I could afford to deal with. I needed to maintain exceptional grades to get that scholarship to college; otherwise I’d have no chance to break out of the vicious cycle my father was exposing me to.

There was no alternative to it; I had to stop tutoring Dylan, and I had to stop thinking about Vin-um, the tattooed jerk!

To be fair, he didn’t really understand the impact of his words. He didn’t understand that my life was far from perfect. Just because I wore this mask—straight-A student, good girl, responsible—didn’t mean that I didn’t have problems of my own. It didn’t mean that my life wasn’t completely messed up. I was trying to deal with everything as best as I could.

Now, the only option left was to remove Vincent from the equation. If he stayed in my life, I was going to lose more than good grades; I was going to lose my darn mind.

The only thing that really bothered me was breaking my promise to Dylan. I knew our tutoring sessions had become more than just that. We’d become friends. He relied on me in his life as a constant. I think I was that maternal presence he’d lacked his entire life. It was killing me to do this to him, but I had no choice.

My promise to him had been made before Vincent had said what he’d said. It was probably for the best, anyway since Ryder seemed to hate my guts for some unknown reason. I think that entire family was a little insane.

At the end of the day, I headed to my locker and took out the text books I’d need for homework tomorrow. Since I wouldn’t have time to do any work this afternoon, I was going to get everything done tomorrow afternoon now that I’d decided not to tutor Dylan anymore.

“Estella, can I talk to you?”

Turning to the right, I found Eddie Cavallari leaning against the locker beside mine. His sandy-colored hair was spiked to the side in an interesting way. The sight of his tattoos made me want to take a step back, but I checked myself. I didn’t want Eddie to think I was being rude, so I stood my ground.

“Sure,” I swallowed, my eyes darting from left to right as I tried to focus on something else.

Panic was swelling up in my chest and the strokes of his tattoos seemed to swim in front of my eyes. An itch was starting up on my left arm, and I was trying my hardest not to scratch it.

Look at the floor. Look at the locker. Look at other people.

Don’t look at his tattoos. Don’t look at his tattoos.

Maybe if I kept chanting the mantra over and over again, my mind would create an illusion that Eddie’s skin was bare; that no tattoos covered his arms.

I tried to push the feeling away, but it was pounding in my chest, rising to the surface—I felt disgust. Eddie’s tattoos disgusted me.

“Estella? Are you alright?” Eddie’s voice shook me from the panic that was attempting to swallow me whole.

Tearing my eyes away from his arms, I glanced up to find Eddie watching me with concern. This was Eddie. This wasn’t a nightmare. Eddie was a nice guy. Eddie wasn’t a monster. Eddie wasn’t going to hurt me.

Forcing a smile onto my face, I nodded. “Sorry, I completely zoned out. What were you saying?”

Eddie leaned closer, a frown playing around his mouth. “I’m really worried about Hadie. I mean, I know she’s seeing a grief counselor and trying to work through everything, but she seems so...” He paused, searching for the right word. “…different.”

“Different how?”

“She’s withdrawing. She doesn’t talk when I’m with her. And ever since she came back to school, she’s been holed up in the library. I don’t know what to do or say to get her to react.”

As Eddie spoke, I tried my best to concentrate on his face and not let my eyes wander to his inked arms. His concern for my best friend was pretty sweet. I knew Hadie was in despair, but I honestly wondered if she realized how much Eddie cared about her.

The way he’d taken care of her was definitely a lot more than “caring”. I wouldn’t exactly call it a crush, either. Whatever it was, it was really sweet of him to do so much for her. When Hadie had missed a week of school, Eddie had collected all her homework for her and taken it over to her house.

I knew Hadie wasn’t even close to opening herself to Eddie in that way, but I hoped that one day she would really see him. I hoped she would see that everything he was doing for her was for their friendship and a little more. He was not a boy she should take for granted.

Feeling more like myself, I gave Eddie a sad smile. “Of course she’s different. She lost the love of her life.” Eddie’s face fell at my words and I felt a sting of guilt. My tone was gentler as I continued. “I’ve been her friend since second grade and I know she has a strange way of dealing with things. She’s not one of those people who can push her feelings away and act like everything’s okay. She’s a very emotional person, so just let her get those emotions out in whatever way she wants.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I just wish I could make everything better for her.” Eddie had a look of defeat on his face, and feeling horrible, I reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Believe me, just having you in her life is making things better for her. Give it time, Eddie. Give her time to heal. She’ll get through this; just keep doing exactly what you’re doing.”

My hand fell from Eddie’s shoulder, and we were both silent, lost in our own thoughts. Finally, Eddie hitched his backpack strap higher up on his shoulder and gave me a tight smile. “Thanks for the talk, Estella. Let me know if you can find out anything from Hadie.”

“Of course I will.”

Eddie gave me a small nod before passing me by, and I slumped against my locker, trying to process everything he’d just said.

There was so much going on in my life at the moment that I kind of felt bad for relegating Hadie to the backseat. There was really only so much I could do for her, though. She preferred to be alone, and I could understand her need to be solitary. Still, it wasn’t right for her to completely withdraw. I would have to do something about that.

Hurrying outside, I made my way to the bus stand that was just across the street. The bus that came there went all the way through town before heading to Penthill. It was a long trip, but at least it was convenient.

As I was about to cross the street, I caught sight of something that made me falter.

Vincent was here.

He had parked his bike—illegally, of course—across the street at the bus stand, and was leaning against it with his arms folded across his chest. And, he looked good. By good, I mean good.

He had on a pair of faded jeans, a white denim shirt—thankfully, the sleeves were rolled down so my eyes weren’t assaulted by his numerous tattoos—and brown leather boots. He wore a pair of Aviators and looked sexy as hell. I mean, normally he was sexy anyway, but there was something about the way his shirt hugged his upper body that made me feel like I’d skipped a step and almost fallen over.

Gah. Why was I acting like a total idiot? I was supposed to be angry at him. I was angry at him. It didn’t matter how sexy he looked; he had really hurt me the other night. Vincent Madden could take his sexiness and go right back to Penthill for all I cared.

Straightening myself up to my full height, I stalked across the street and was mentally preparing myself to walk around him and his vehicular obstruction when he straightened up and stepped onto the pavement, waiting for me.

Those full lips of his were upturned in a smirk, and I tried my hardest to keep my mind focused. I would not let myself be distracted by the sexiest lips I had ever seen. No, I would ignore him a-and um-

“Stelle.”

That single word made me stop just as my foot hit the pavement. Why did he have to use my name against me? He had such an unfair advantage over me. One day, I’d have to find something to use against him, too.

“What?” I snapped, hoping my expression was as biting as my tone.

Vincent took a step towards me, the smirk still lingering on his face. His eyes drifted over my body before settling on my face. “Let me give you a ride to Penthill.”

My eyes narrowed at his words. “How the heck do you know where I’m going? Are you having one of your gang buddies secretly tail me and monitor my movements?”

His lips twitched in the slightest. “I know the heck because exactly three weeks ago I met you for the first time on a Monday night leaving the Penthill community center.”

“Oh.” My face heated up, and I stared at a crack in the pavement as embarrassment washed over me. I felt like a total idiot. Why couldn’t I just keep my mouth shut?

“Yeah, oh.” His tone was smug and it made me want to pummel him with my backpack. “C’mon, let me give you a ride. It’ll be a helluva lot faster than the bus.”

When I looked up, I found him scrutinizing me, his head tilted to the side. He cleared his throat and quickly glanced away, looking uncomfortable.

Sighing, I weaved my fingers through my hair, trying to find the best way to deal with Vincent. I didn’t really understand why he was offering me a ride to Penthill after our blow out on Friday night. Had he ridden all the over here just to take me to Penthill? That just seemed weird that he would go out of his way like that.

“Can I be frank, Vincent?” I fixed him with the firm look I often used when I was giving Savannah or Nathan a lecture. “I’m not sure what you’re doing here. I’m not entirely sure what your motives are, but I’ve already decided that I won’t be tutoring Dylan anymore. I’m not sure what you expect from me beyond that.”

Vincent ran a hand through his hair, his face pinching up. He let out a breath, exhaustion settling into his face. “Look, I just wanted to talk, okay? Let me give you a ride and we can talk later. I swear, I’m not gonna knock you off or anything.”

A smile crept onto my face, and I nodded. “Fine. You can give me a ride.”

Relief replaced the exhaustion on Vincent’s face, and he offered me the spare helmet. As I climbed onto the bike behind him, he reached behind him and grasped my arms, wrapping them around his waist.

When he started the engine, my heart gave a jolt, and I wasn’t sure if it came from the thrill of being on the bike or from being this close to Vincent again even after I’d decided that I didn’t want to have anything to do with him.

As Vincent sped off down the road, the mixed feelings I had towards him started seeping into my thoughts. Primarily, was I attracted to Vincent? I didn’t really pay attention to guys much, even though a few had asked me out before. Of course, I’d turned them down and I think eventually, other guys had taken the hint and moved onto girls who showed more interest in them.

That didn’t bother me though. I preferred to focus on my school work and taking care of my family. I mean, sure, it would be nice to have someone there for you in more-than-a-friends way, but the whole dating thing wasn’t appealing to me.

The last time I’d had a crush on a guy was when I was fifteen. It’d been at the end of freshman year, and Carter Hammond and I had been flirting for a while. I’d been pretty sure he would ask me out before summer break, and then we’d spend all summer getting close.

But all that had quickly been forgotten, because a couple of months before summer break, my dad lost his job, gambled away our savings, and my mom upped and left us without a word.

After that, my life fell apart around me, and I was powerless to do anything about it. The only thing I could do was try and hold my family together as best as I could. Savannah was about to start high school and Nathan had already started applying for colleges.

That summer, Nate couldn’t stand to live in the same house as dad, so he’d applied for a room on his college campus and moved away at the start of summer. He’d been lucky; he’d missed a lot of what had happened afterwards.

Because after Nathan had left, my life had truly become a nightmare. Dating Carter Hammond was the last thing on my mind when school started up in the fall. For that matter, dating anyone was the last thing on my mind.

News about my messed up family life had warded off the advances of other guys—no one wanted to deal with their girlfriend’s crazy, alcoholic father—and though guys looked at me, they never approached me with any other intentions.

But now, pressed against Vincent like this, I wasn’t sure what to think. He was the only guy in a long time who had dared to look me in the eye. Who only saw me, and didn’t see the girl who came surrounded by rumors.

I was being silly though. There was no chance for a guy like Vincent and a girl like me. We were way too different—we were from completely different worlds. Vincent wasn’t the kind of guy who settled down, and I wasn’t the kind of girl who could handle instability.

And, here I was running away with my crazy thoughts when there was no logical reason for me to be having these crazy thoughts about Vincent. It was never going to happen. I would never let it happen. And, besides, I doubted that I was even his type. He was the kind of guy who made a move when he liked a girl, and obviously there was no interest on his part.

Therefore, I should stop thinking about how firm his stomach muscles felt beneath his shirt. Yes. I. Should. Stop. Now.

Thankfully, we’d reached the outskirts of Penthill, and it only took a couple of minutes before Vincent was pulling up outside the community center. We’d gotten here pretty fast, despite Vincent’s best efforts to stick to the speed limit. I was pretty sure if I hadn’t been with him, he would’ve broken the speed limit within a minute of starting the bike.

When I hopped off the bike and took off the helmet, I was surprised to find that Vincent was also getting off and removing his own helmet.

He rested his helmet on the seat and ran a hand through his hair, trying to remove all signs of helmet hair. I preferred it when he let his hair hang loose instead of plying it with gel and smoothing it back. Either way, it highlighted his cheekbones like crazy. He had amazing cheekbones.

“So, listen.” Vincent blew out a breath, looking uncomfortable. It was pretty obvious he was having a hard time communicating or talking about his feelings. It was kind of cute, actually. “I get why you don’t wanna come back and tutor Dylan. I was a total asshole to you, and I probably said things I shouldn’t have said, but you kinda pissed me off when you said that Dil was scared of me.”

“I know and I’m-“

“It’s just that I try so fucking hard, Stelle. I try so hard to give Dil the life that me and my brothers never had growing up. But I keep screwing it up. I keep making mistakes and I can’t make it right.” Vincent paused, breathing hard. His eyes drilled into me and an electric current shot up my spine. “I know you don’t think much of me. You made that pretty clear the first night we met. But I’m telling you the truth; I’m doing every damn thing I can to make that kid’s life better.” Vincent’s voice cracked, and he buried his head in his hands, tendrils of hair falling over his face.

Without really thinking about what I was doing, I stepped forward and brushed the loose strands of hair off his face before placing a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him. It was difficult for me to see his tough guy exterior crack. Obviously, Dylan’s well-being meant a lot to him.

Vincent jerked up, his eyes wide and startled as he stared at my hand and then at me, as though trying to deduce whether I’d lost my mind. I wasn’t entirely sure I hadn’t. I mean, I had just tried to console a Madden for the second time in a week!

There was something very wrong with this picture.

Heat assaulted my face at Vincent’s reaction, and I took a hasty step back, feeling like the most moronic person in the world. I was mentally slapping myself over and over again for doing such a stupid thing.

Just because Vincent was upset didn’t mean that I could console him. We weren’t friends; we barely put up with each other. And, he was a Madden. A freaking Madden! I had to remind myself of that any time I let my feelings get the better of me.

I’d let myself get carried away again. The distance between us had to stay intact. I couldn’t just go around touching him all the time because I felt bad for him.

“Uh, um, yeah.” I stammered, at a complete loss for words. Vincent was still staring at me like I was a space alien, so I had to fill the excruciatingly awkward silence somehow. “I-uh-see that you’re being genuine ab-about wanting the best for Dylan, but-“

Before I could continue, Vincent reached out and took my hands in his. And you know what happened? My heart stopped. It freaking stopped. I mean, it didn’t literally stop; I could still feel it beating rapidly in my chest, but in some weird way, it stopped.

“Please, Stelle.” Vincent’s voice was low; his eyes burned into me, and his skin was blazing against mine. “I know you couldn’t care less about me if you tried, but Dylan needs you. If you stop coming over, it’s gonna kill him in a way you don’t understand. You’re not doing this for me; you’re doing it for him. Don’t let him walk away from this thinking that his circumstances make people treat him differently.”

There was so much sincerity in Vincent’s voice that I felt my defenses beginning to crumble. He was right. Dylan depended on me. In a couple of weeks, we’d formed an attachment, and I couldn’t break his heart like that. I would hate for him to go down the same path as his brothers, knowing that I could’ve made a difference in his life.

Exhaling, I nodded, and watched as Vincent’s expression changed from desperation to relief. “You’re right; it’s not his fault he was born into this.  I’ll continue to tutor him, but I have conditions.”

Vincent’s brow furrowed, and I could tell he was about to object, so I hurried on. “No swearing, no alcohol, and no drugs around Dylan. You’re trying to set a good example for him, right? Setting a good example starts with becoming a good example.”

I held my breath, watching as the muscles worked in Vincent’s jaw, expecting him to reject my offer. But when he gave a curt nod instead, I felt like I had just entered a dream state. I had just negotiated with a Madden and lived to tell the tale.

“If you think that’s gonna help him then I’ll go along with it.” Vincent brushed his fingers against my knuckle, and my heart soared. Breaking eye contact, he stepped away from me, putting distance between us. “I gotta go.”

His abruptness confused me, and I nodded, tucking my hair behind my ears in an attempt to find something to do with my hands now that Vincent had released them. “Yes, uh, I should go, too. I have to start prepping for dinner.”

“Prepping dinner?” Vincent cocked a brow.

“Yes, for the homeless.” I resignedly shoved my hands into my coat pocket to stop fidgeting. “A hot meal really gets their spirits up on a freezing night like this one.”

“Huh.” He was silent again, his eyes searching as they studied my face. Finally, he broke his gaze, and headed back to his bike. “I’ll see ya tomorrow.”

“Okay, sure,” I said, but I didn’t start walking to the community center, even though I knew I should. Something was tugging inside of me, curling itself around the wall I always kept in place when I was near Vincent—sympathy.

I felt sympathy for Vincent. And that notion was terrifying, that I felt sympathy for this guy who was so different from me that there weren’t enough antonyms in the world to compare us.

“Vincent.” He turned when I said his name, and I swallowed, bunching my fists inside the pocket of my coat. “I do care about you.”

I didn’t wait to see his reaction—a part of me didn’t want to know how he would react.

I simply walked away.

Chapter Fourteen

Vincent

There was a pounding in my ears as I watched Estella walk away.

I didn’t know what to think. She’d just told me she cared about me. No one had ever told me they cared about me and meant it.

Ruby had said something along those lines to me many times, but she was always manipulative with her words. With Estella, it was different. It was different because she actually seemed genuine about it.

And she’d touched me again. She’d fucking touched me. I figured the girl couldn’t stand to be near me, but she’d actually touched me. And I’d touched her back. Because I’d wanted to. Because I didn’t want her thinking that I didn’t want to.

My logic was so screwed up.

Swearing under my breath, I turned to grab my helmet, and that’s when I saw him.

Conor sat on his bike, across the road, in the parking lot of The Penthill Grill. And, he was staring right at me. Even from here, I could see the smirk on his mouth as he watched me like he’d just found out an amazing secret.

My body tensed as a sick feeling filled me up. Conor was the butt boy of Troy, the leader of the Allbrook gang. Troy was always sending Conor out on little recon missions to try and dig up something on me so they could use it as an advantage against me in a fight.

It’d been three years and they’d still had no luck. Those assholes were dreaming if they thought they’d ever find a weakness in me. I’d been trained by the best; I’d been trained by Ryder, and he allowed no weaknesses. Not after what’d happened to him. Not after he’d been weakened for life. No one knew about Ryder’s weakness except me and Tyson, and we were sworn to secrecy, bound by something more powerful than what bound our gang—we were bound by blood.

Still, the smug expression on Conor’s face made my stomach sink. Why the hell did he look like he’d just seen something that’d made his day? There was nothing—

Then my heart sank into my stomach.

Fuck.

He’d seen me with Estella. There was no other explanation for it. He must’ve seen her brush aside my hair, and seen me holding her hand.

Anyone who knew me knew I didn’t do shit like that. Yeah, I kissed girls, touched girls, and screwed girls, but I never held their fucking hand. I’d taken things way too far with Estella—I’d let her in—and now that asshole, Conor, had seen us together. Even if he told Troy, I didn’t really know what they’d do with the information.

I was holding a girl’s hand; so fucking what?

Still, I didn’t want Estella getting dragged into the middle of the chaos that was my life. It’d been hard enough convincing her to stay for Dylan. I had a feeling she wouldn’t be giving me many more chances.

I just hoped Conor hadn’t seen her face properly before she’d left. It worried me that I’d unknowingly exposed her to the Allbrooks.

Shooting Conor a look of indifference, I flipped my middle finger at him and climbed onto my bike. A broad grin spread across his face, and he gave me a thumbs up before pulling on his helmet and riding out of the parking lot at high speed.

Asshole.

* * *

That night, I got drunk with the boys.

We sat by the creek behind our house, celebrating Ryder and Tyson’s return. Dylan wasn’t feeling too great and I hadn’t wanted to leave him home by himself, so we’d decided to stay on the property instead.

The guys were all talking around me, but I was only half-listening to what they were saying. My mind kept drifting back to Estella and why she affected me like this. It kept drifting back to Conor and how much he’d seen this afternoon.

I finally paid attention when Cohen started talking about Allbrook’s new fighter; some young guy who was slowly working his way up the ranks and being trained by Troy himself. Normally, Troy let his thugs coach their fighters, so if he was getting involved then he probably thought this new kid had a good shot at beating me.

“He any good?” Harris asked, taking a swig of his beer.

Harris was the oldest in the gang—he was thirty-one—and he always got to the point. That’s what I liked about him—he didn’t play games, he didn’t mess with you; he just gave it to you straight.

“They’re saying he is, but I haven’t laid eyes on him yet,” Cohen said with a shrug. Cohen was our recon guy. He found out all the dirt about the rival gangs, but especially the Allbrooks. “All I know is, they reckon this new boy could beat Vin.”

Everyone turned to gauge my reaction, but I didn’t even react at the news. I had other things on my mind; like why Estella had touched me like that. And why the hell had she said she cared about me?

“Then they’re fucking idiots.” Ryder’s voice broke above everyone else’s, loud and clear. “No one can beat Vincent, and those Allbrook fuckers know it.” He gave everyone a hard look as if daring them to contradict him

No one was stupid enough to disagree with Ryder. At least to his face.

Then Ryder’s eyes shot to me and a cold smile formed on his mouth. “No one can beat you because you don’t have a weakness, isn’t that right, little bro?”

To everyone else, it might’ve seemed like Ryder was showing his confidence in me, but I knew better. That’s not what he was doing. He was exercising his power over me.

When I spoke, my mouth felt dry. “Yeah, that’s right.”

Ryder gave me a curt nod before his eyes snapped back to the other guys. “This is such a cock-fest. Let’s get some pussy down here.”

The guys cried out in agreement, and I watched Todd and Tyson pull out their phones and start texting furiously. They were usually the ones who knew the easy girls that got a thrill from hanging out with bad boys. These girls wanted to be seen with us; they wanted to be associated with power, that’s why they came to us.

An hour later, about ten girls had shown up. You had to give Todd and Tyson credit—they knew some pretty hot girls.

A few of them had bee-lined straight for me. They knew who I was and they wanted to connect themselves to me somehow, even if it was just through a one night stand.

The only problem was they were kind of pissing me off tonight.

About three or four of the girls had tried to unsuccessfully strike up conversation with me, but had eventually wandered off to the other guys when they realized they weren’t going to get anything from me.

I sat in a chair close to the dock, staring out at the creek, trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with me. Maybe I was sick. Maybe I had brain damage. There was something not right with my head.

My thoughts kept drifting back to the day I’d been here with Estella and how good it’d felt just to hold her. Yeah, there was definitely something wrong with me.

Before I could try and diagnose my sickness, a girl planted herself in my lap and wrapped her arms around my neck.

“Viiiiinceeeent! I haven’t seen you in soooo long!” she slurred in an irritating high-pitched tone.

Shit. It was Sarah, and she was one of the clingiest girls I’d ever had the misfortune of sleeping with. Don’t get me wrong. She was hot as hell—long legs, tanned, big boobs—but she wanted way too much from me. She wanted a relationship from me even though I’d made it clear that there was never going to be anything between us apart from sex.

Taking a gulp of my beer, I shot her a look of disinterest. “Not long enough.”

She tilted her head back and let out a roar of laughter, swatting at me with a hand. “You are suuuch a tease, Vin!” Her eyes were too unfocused and her words were jumbled together. She’d been having something other than just alcohol—that’s why she was acting extra crazy tonight.

“What are you on?” I muttered, trying to push her off me, but she held on.

“I’m on you.” She lowered her voice, probably in an attempt to be sexy, and planted a kiss on neck where my ‘M’ tattoo was. “And I want you.”

Her lips felt good against my skin—she knew how to turn me on—but it was also annoying me. I pushed her away again and stood up.

Sarah almost tumbled to the ground, but managed to grab onto my arm before she lost her balance completely. Straightening up, she shot me an annoyed look. “What the hell is up with you, Vin? I’ve been calling you for two weeks and I don’t hear anything back.” She placed her hands on my chest and leaned in. “That’s two weeks wasted that you could’ve been fucking my brains out.”

I rolled my eyes and took her hands off me, placing the beer bottle on the chair. “I’m sure you found someone else to keep you busy.”

“Don’t call me a whore, you asshole!” Sarah tried to push me, moving sluggishly, and I easily grabbed her hands, finally paying attention long enough to see how red her eyes were. She’d definitely taken something before she’d gotten here; that’s the only reason she had the guts to talk to me like that.

“Sarah,” I said, surprised by how calm my voice was, “you’re talking crap right now. You’re drunk and God knows what the fuck you’ve been shooting up. When you calm down, and you want to go home, let me know and I’ll give you a ride.”

As I turned, I saw that everyone was watching us, like we were some sort of fucking spectacle. For a few seconds, I stared around at everyone in disgust—they were all drunk, drugged up, and the girls were happy for the guys to do whatever they wanted to them. It made me sick.

Estella was right. We chose this life for ourselves. We didn’t have to do any of this, but we did. There was no way I wanted Dylan to become like us.

“Vin, I’m sorry!” Sarah clung onto my arm, her nails digging into me. “I’m sorry! Let me make it up to you! Let me make you happy!”

Her idea of “happy” was to proceed to undo the zipper of my jeans. And, yeah, it probably would make me happy, but what the hell was I going to get out of a girl who was so drugged up, she didn’t care about giving me a blowjob in front of thirty other people?

That was a huge turn-off.

“Look, stop.” I forced Sarah to her feet and zipped up my jeans. “I’m not doing this with you in front of everyone.”

Sarah glanced around, her eyes glazed, and giggled as though she’d only just noticed everyone around us. She leaned in to whisper to me. “Then let’s go somewhere quieter. Maybe your room…”

I jerked away from her, pushing her back. “You need to find someone else to annoy, because there is no way in hell I’m taking you back to my room tonight.”

Ignoring her cry of protest, I turned and began walking past the other guys. My eyes locked with Ryder’s, and his expression was hard as he watched me. I didn’t bother trying to figure out what was running through his mind. I was pretty sure everyone was wondering what the hell was wrong with me tonight. I’d spend a good amount of time trying to figure out the same thing.

Weaving my way through the trees, I finally ended up at the clearing behind our house and trudged up the dirt path, going into the house through the back door. Once I was inside the house—leaning up against the wall in the kitchen—the noise from the creek was faint. At least Dylan wouldn’t be able to hear most of what was going on.

Turning out of kitchen, I walked down the hall and knocked on Dylan’s door.

“Come in.”

When I pushed the door open and walked in, I found my brother sitting on his bed surrounded by books. God, my brother was a saint. That’s what was so great about him; he went into his room and lost himself in his books.

He seemed surprised when I took a seat at his desk chair. “Why aren’t you at the creek?”

I shrugged. “Dunno. Not in the mood.”

“Oh.” Dylan began placing his books into a neat stack. “Um, can I ask you something?”

“Sure, Kid.” I leaned forward, wondering what was bugging him.

“Do you think Estella will really come back tomorrow?” His expression was serious as he regarded me, biting his lower lip.

Sighing, I ran a hand through my hair, not really sure what to say. It seemed like Estella would come over tomorrow, but I didn’t want to get Dylan’s hopes up only for him to be disappointed if she didn’t show up. He didn’t need another woman coming into his life and messing it up.

“I don’t know.” I stared at the floorboards, feeling like a total jerk for not having a better answer to his question. Why give him hope only for him to be let down over and over again?

“I think she’ll come,” Dylan stated, picking up his books and walking past me to put them on the desk. “She’s my friend.”

Hearing him say that Estella was his friend made me cringe. Yeah, she was a nice girl, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to let him down. “That’s great, Dil, but that doesn’t mean that she’s gonna see you tomorrow. I don’t want you getting excited for nothing.”

The truth was, I didn’t want to see how devastated he’d be if she didn’t show up. But after what’d happened with Ryder, I couldn’t blame her if she didn’t. Sometimes I wanted to get away from this life too, but it was too late for me.

“Vin, why don’t you trust anyone?” Dylan asked, returning to the bed and sitting on the edge.

I didn’t know what to say to that. There were so many things wrong with me that I couldn’t even begin to explain them to a ten-year-old kid. So instead of answering his question, I stood up and headed to the door.

“Get some sleep, kid. It’s late.”

Dylan got under the covers, his eyes searching mine. “You can trust Estella. She’s not like Ruby. She cares about me.”

There was nothing to say to that. If my kid brother could trust women even after Ruby continued to fail him, then why couldn’t I?

Letting out a breath, I gave him a weak smile. “Night, Kid.”

Dylan knew not to push the topic further—he’d get nothing else out of me.

“Night, Vin.”

Chapter Fifteen

Estella

~ Two Years Ago ~

When I got home, no one was there except him.

The look in his eyes disgusted me—it made me sick to my stomach the way he stalked my movements with his eyes.

My blood ran cold and my heart accelerated, like it was trying to tell me to run away. But I didn’t run—I stayed exactly where I was because I didn’t want to make him angry. If he got angry, he could do the same thing to Savannah. I didn’t want him to ruin Savannah’s life the way he had ruined mine, so I let him do this to me.

When I didn’t move towards him, he stood up from his seat on the couch and approached me; his clothes were wrinkled, his hair was untidy, and when he spoke, his breath reeked of alcohol.

“I’ve missed you.” He pulled me close, burying his head in my neck. “I’ve had a bad day, Estella, and I need you.”

Here I stood, Estella Markson, and I let him say these things to me. Here I stood, Estella Markson, and I let him run his hands over my body. Here I stood; frozen, broken, dead inside. I stood here, letting him ruin me once again.

He lifted his head and stroked my cheek with a finger. “Make me happy, Estella, the way your mom used to.”

My stomach dropped and I had an urge to throw up. “Please don’t make me do this.” My voice was soft, coaxing. I didn’t want to make him mad.

His eyes sparked and he straightened up, grabbing a fistful of my hair and tugging it so hard that tears stung my eyes from the burning of my scalp. “You know I don’t like it when you make things difficult for me. Be a good girl and do what I say, or you know what’s going to happen.”

“I’m s-sorry,” I whispered, lowering my gaze.

I knew his threat well. If I didn’t do as he said, he would start using Savannah to keep him company. There was no way I was getting my baby sister involved in this. I had to keep her safe.

As he released my hair, a smile that sickened me formed on his lips. He grasped my arm and slowly lifted up the left sleeve of my coat and stroked the fabric of my sweater underneath. It made me sick that he knew my secret; that he knew I was disfigured beneath that sweater.

“You are such a good girl,” he said as his eyes drank me in greedily, “and I’m going to show you how I treat good girls.”

And, because I was frozen, and broken, and dead inside, I let him lead me to my room.

* * *

He hadn’t done this to me in a few months, but the memory of how to behave was ingrained into my skull. Once he left my room, I took a shower to wash his scent off me. I loved the way the water felt against my skin, as though I was cleansing myself of what he’d done to me. Sometimes I stayed in the shower longer than I needed to, just thinking about how my life had turned out.

I knew what he was doing to me wasn’t my fault, but I was powerless to stop it. I was trying so hard to be strong and to hold my family together, but when it came down to it, I was a weak person. I was weak physically and I was weak mentally. I couldn’t stop this from happening to me—it was my fault.

Once I’d showered and changed into clean clothes, I went out to find that Savannah was home. Ignoring them where they sat at the table, I set about making sandwiches for us to eat. When I occupied myself with something, it almost made me forget the disgusting things he did to me.

Almost.

* * *

~ Present Day ~

When I walked out of school the next afternoon, I was surprised to find Vincent parked at the bus stop again. I’d just been about to cross the street with Mariah to go to her car when I saw him standing by his bike waiting for me.

As usual, he was dressed in that way that bothered me—his jeans, shirt, and jacket all hugged his body in a way that made me stare for too long. It was like when you knew something was trouble, but it just looked so darn good that you couldn’t stay away. That’s what Vincent did to me.

“Oh my God,” Mariah said, her voice high pitched. “Vincent Madden is here.”

She said it as though I’d gone temporarily blind and couldn’t see the huge anomaly in my life. Vincent stood out like a Goth at a Justin Bieber concert—he wasn’t very hard to miss.

“Yes, I know, Ray,” I said, trying to get a firm hold of my emotions. Vincent had a way of making me feel things I didn’t want to feel. “I didn’t expect him to be here.”

That was the truth. I know he’d come to see me here yesterday, but I thought that that had only been a once off thing. I honestly didn’t think he’d come all the way to Statlen just to pick me up.

“He is so hot,” Mariah chattered on as we crossed the street together and approached Vincent, “in an I’m-going-to-pull-a-gun-out-on-you kinda way or a mess-with-me-and-I’ll-kick-you-in-the-phalange kinda way.”

Rolling my eyes at her, I lowered my voice so Vincent wouldn’t hear me. “You are so deluded by hot guys, it’s not even funny. You need a reality check. That is not hot.”

“Oh, come on, Estee! He’s hot in a dangerous, bad boy way. Even you have eyes. You’re the one who needs a reality check. I don’t see how you control yourself from ripping his clothes off.”

I let out a breath, feeling irritated that a part of me agreed with her. “Yes, okay, there might be a part of me that finds him attractive, but it’s not enough to make up for his mental imbalance. Therefore, my logic declares that he is not hot.”

“That’s not what your friend thinks.”

My face went hot at the sound of Vincent’s voice, and I turned to find him watching us with a knowing smirk on his lips.

Darn! He’d heard us! As if I needed another reason to feel awkward around him.

Quickly recovering, I flipped my hair over my shoulders and tried to control the heat that I could feel pooling in my cheeks. “My friend has brain damage. She doesn’t know what she’s saying. Therefore her comments aren’t valid.”

Vincent took off his aviators and hung them on the front of shirt, the smirk still playing around his mouth. “Let me get this straight; your friend has brain damage, I’m mentally imbalanced, yet you hang around with us, so what does that make you?”

“Clinically insane, obviously,” I blurted out without really thinking.

Vincent let out a laugh which sent tingles shooting through my stomach in ten different directions. This was not good. My body must be clinically insane for reacting to Vincent like that.

“I kinda figured that the first night I found you talking to yourself in a British accent.”

From beside me, Mariah let out a snort. “You speak to yourself in a British accent?”

Trying my best to ignore her, I gave Vincent a flippant look. “Well, I knew you were trouble the first night we met.”

“Of course I’m trouble. I’m Vincent Madden.” Vincent’s eyes twinkled as he leaned in closer. “But don’t change the subject. It’s okay to find me attractive. Most women do.” He gave Mariah a wink and I swear, she actually sighed dreamily.

Feeling flustered, I took a step forward, unwilling to back down. “Well, the fact that you’re in a criminal motorcycle gang makes you unattractive to me. I’m one woman who doesn’t find you attractive in the slightest.”

Vincent grinned. “Logically, you don’t find me attractive, but naturally you do.” He tilted his head closer until he was so close, I felt like his lips were on me. “And, you’re seventeen now, but when you turn eighteen—when you’re a woman—you won’t be able to resist me.”

My eyes fluttered to his lips, and my heart was doing cartwheels. We were silent, sizing the other up, trying not to break eye contact. It was a silent staring match and whoever broke away was obviously scared of feeling something and, heck, I was feeling a lot of things.

The one thing I wasn’t feeling was fear. Or repulsion. Or disgust.

Vincent didn’t make me feel any of the things I’d felt two years ago. He made me feel warm, like somehow a part of him and a part of me just clicked into place. Which was strange because this guy was a Madden and he was definitely not the kind of guy I should feel comfortable around.

Luckily, Mariah broke up the stare down for us. “Jeez, get a room you two. You can stop screwing each other with your eyes now.”

And the embarrassment just kept coming.

I snapped my eyes away from Vincent and placed my hands on my hips as I faced Mariah. “Ray! Seriously, do you ever think about anything else?”

Mariah stuck her tongue out at me. “Hey, we were all thinking it. I’ll leave you two alone so you can continue your googly eye, staring thing. Call me tonight, okay?” She grinned at Vincent. “Thank you for not stabbing me or taking my money.” Despite the situation, a laugh escaped me as I watched Mariah walk away to where her car was parked around the corner.

When I turned back to Vincent, he was still watching me. Clearing his throat, he approached his bike and threw me the helmet.

“She’s…interesting,” he mused as he climbed onto the bike.

“That’s definitely one word to describe her, yes.” I climbed on behind him, wrapping my arms tightly around his firm, muscled body.

He gunned the engine and we didn’t speak as he headed to Penthill. The next thirty minutes went by in a blur of trees and fields. I loved the rural landscape that came with the outlying area of Penthill. Not that Statlen was a huge city or anything, but I liked the farms and dirt roads out here. Statlen was more of a suburban town; Penthill had a country feel to it.

I loved how I didn’t need to say or even think anything. There was just a sense of being alive on the back of this bike with Vincent that I had never felt before.

When Vincent pulled up into this driveway, I wasn’t sure if I was quite ready to get off.

“You good, Stelle?” he asked, turning his head a little so I could see his profile. His lips were inches away from mine, and I could actually feel the air passing from his mouth.

Vincent’s dark eyes searched mine and it was like being pulled in by a magnet. There was an unspoken connection between us that made shivers erupt in the pit of my stomach. If he touched me, I was sure I would fall apart.

I felt myself nodding, my eyes were fluttering shut, and my mouth was drawing closer and closer to Vincent’s. I was trying to keep my thoughts pure, but I’d never met a guy like Vincent before and those lips of his were tempting me.

Then Vincent turned his head and swore under his breath, breaking the connection between us. “I told them to stay away when you’re here.”

What on earth was he talking about?

I was about to shoot him a strange look, but that’s when my eyes landed on the eight bikes neatly parked out the front of Vincent’s house that we’d both failed to notice earlier on.

“What’s going on?” I asked, hopping off the bike and approaching the house uncertainly.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when I felt Vincent press his hand into the small of my back. He was only a few inches taller than me, so I only had to raise my head a little to meet his gaze.

There was a sheepish expression on his face, and he ran his free hand over his long hair. “Well, the boys kinda want you to cook for them.”

“They what?”

Vincent shot me a grin as he led me up the front steps. “What can I say? Your mac and cheese won them over.”

Chapter Sixteen

Vincent

The look of annoyance on Dylan’s face made me burst out laughing.

His scowl only deepened and he folded his arms across his chest, not impressed that I wasn’t taking him seriously. “It’s really not funny, Vin. Estella was my friend first and now everyone wants to be friends with her.”

Goat started laughing as well and clapped Dylan on the back. “God, you’re a possessive bastard, Dil. Already trying to keep her all to yourself.”

There was loud bang, and we all jumped. Estella had slammed a large jar down on the kitchen table and was glaring at Goat. “Put a dollar in the jar!”

Goat stared at her, startled. “W-what?”

“Put a dollar in the jar! I’m sick of you guys swearing in front of Dylan!” She placed both hands on her hips to show she wasn’t messing around. She was pissed.

Goat looked at me for help, but I shrugged. “You heard her.” A smile crept onto my face as Goat caved, pulling out his wallet and placing a dollar bill into the jar.

“Shit. She’s scary,” he said to me in a low voice, “I wouldn’t wanna get on the wrong side of her.”

Estella spun around, shoving the jar in front of Goat’s guilty face. “I heard that!”

The guys started laughing as Goat groaned and dropped another dollar bill into the jar. Estella somehow managed to glare at everyone in the room. “Let that be a warning to the rest of you. You swear, you put a dollar in the jar.” Her glare ended on me and she gave me a pointed look as if I was the one to blame for all this.

Normally, a woman talking to me like that would’ve pissed me off—Sarah had definitely done a good job of pissing me off last night—but Estella didn’t have that effect on me. As stupid and lame as it sounded, I was in absolute awe of her, especially after the way she’d handled herself around the boys last week and tonight.

It seemed so natural for her to fall into this role of taking charge and taking care of everyone. Warmth just radiated from her and made everyone want to be close to her. The guys had willingly volunteered to help her cook and were now trying to find enough plates and forks for everyone.

My home had never felt more like a home. And, it was all because of Estella.

There was nothing I wanted to do more than sweep her up in my arms and plant a kiss on the pout that filled her lips. I’d wanted to kiss her so bad when she’d been sitting on bike, but I’d made myself stop before I did something stupid.

Shit. I shouldn’t even be thinking about her like that. Estella was off limits to everyone, including me.

But as I watched her walk back over the stove where she was getting Topher and Three to stir the large pot of chili, I couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d somehow managed to creep into every part of me without me even noticing.

“I’m not finished talking to you,” Dylan said, still scowling at me.

“Huh?” I’d almost forgotten that my kid brother was standing there, thoroughly annoyed with me.

“Estella was my secret,” Dylan said, not looking impressed that I hadn’t been paying attention to him.

“Okay, I’m sorry, Kid,” I said, feigning defeat. “But you know what? Secrets should be shared. Especially good ones.”

Dylan still didn’t seem convinced, but before he could argue with me, Tyson strolled into the kitchen, a grin plastered across his face. “What the fuck is that amazing smell? I’m fucking hungry!”

He was still dressed in his boxers and his hair was a mess. It was six o’clock in the afternoon and the asshole had just gotten out of bed.

“Chili,” Cohen said. “Estella cooked.”

“You want?” Riley asked, as he searched for plates and bowls.

“Fuck yeah!” Tyson said, walking over to where I stood with Dylan and Goat.

“Three dollars,” I said, pointing to where Estella stood with the jar in hand.

“What the fuck? I have to pay to eat in my own house?” Tyson stared around at Estella, not realizing that he’d just added another dollar to his swear debt.

“Swear jar,” Goat responded. “And you owe four dollars now.”

“What the f—“ Tyson caught himself before he spewed another expletive. Then he patted his boxers, frowning. He looked around at Goat sheepishly. “Can I get a loan?”

Muttering under his breath, Goat pulled out a five dollar bill and put it in the jar. Estella gave him a confused look. “I only needed four dollars. Do you want change?”

“Hold on.” Goat turned to Tyson and shot him a glare. “You owe me, asshole.”

Estella’s hand shot to her mouth, and she gasped, and the guys started cracking up at the entire situation. Goat turned back to her with a winning smile. “I don’t think I’ll be needing that change.”

“Can we eat now?” Three said from where he was still standing by the stove. “I’m fuc-fluttering hungry!”

“Yeah, I’m so fingering hungry, too,” Hudson chimed in.

“Riley, give us some motherfloating plates already,” West said, grinning at Estella who was shooting everyone looks of disapproval.

Finally, she sighed in defeat and placed the jar down on the counter before busying herself with serving everyone a bowl or plate of chili herself. Once we all grabbed a plateful of food—Estella had cooked some rice too—we all found a place to sit. Some of the guys sat on the floor, others preferred to stand. Estella, Tyson, Dylan, and me sat at the kitchen table, and there was silence all round as everyone stuffed their faces.

I noticed Estella glance around, a look of disbelief filling her face, before her eye caught mine and she gave me a small smile. Even when she started eating, I continued watching her, because there was nothing else in this room that my eyes would rather look at than her.

It was hard to explain exactly why I was looking at her. Let’s just call it interest. Yeah, that was the word. She was interesting. There were no other feelings involved aside from interest. I kept telling myself that as I finally lowered my gaze and stuffed a spoonful of chili and rice into my mouth.

“This is sooo good,” Todd declared, finishing first. He glanced over at Estella expectantly. “Can I have seconds?”

“Sure you can.” Estella was beaming, her features lit up, making her even more beautiful than she already was.  I wanted to freeze that smile and take it with me everywhere. “I’m so glad you like it. Does anyone else want seconds?”

“Yes!” the guys chorused together.

Estella stood up, refilled plates, handed out drinks, and once everyone had finished eating, she ordered West and Three to do the dishes while she helped Dylan with his homework.

The rest of us went outside to smoke so that Estella could tutor Dylan in peace. The first thing the guys had to say to me was how amazing Estella was. They’d met her twice now and she was obviously making a good impression on them.

“I didn’t get a chance to ask you before; are you with her?” Topher asked, leaning against my truck.

“Nah,” I said, and some pathetic part of me hated that I wasn’t. She wasn’t a quick fuck; she was the kind of girl who came into your life and completely changed it.

“She’s fucking gorgeous,” Todd said, as though I didn’t already know.

“But what’s with the old lady clothes?” Cohen wanted to know. “She always dress like that, Vin?”

I nodded, taking a long drag of my cigarette, letting the smoke settle around my insides. “Yeah, I dunno why she dresses like that.”

“Who cares?” Riley said, pulling out a flask from the pocket of his jacket and taking a swig before passing it along. “She’s gorgeous, she can cook, and she’s a good girl. What else would you want? If no one wants her, I’m game.”

Anger boiled through me, and I reached over and grabbed Riley by the collar of his jacket. “You touch her and you die. You got it?” I knew the way he treated girls and there was no way in hell I was going to let him do the same to Estella.

Riley’s eyes darted left and right as fear shot through his face. “V-vin, relax, I was kidding. I’m not interested.”

Two hands clamped down on my shoulders, and Goat and Tyson pulled me back. “Relax, Vin,” Tyson was saying, and when our eyes met, I could tell that he was surprised by my reaction. He ran a nervous hand through his hair. “You sure you’re not with her? ‘Cos’ you’re sure as hell acting like it.”

I shook him off and took a step back, breathing heavily. What the fuck was wrong with me? Where had that reaction just come from? When had I become so protective of this girl who looked down on everything I stood for?

“It’s not that,” I lied. “Dylan warned me not to mess things up this time. I’ve scared off all his tutors and I don’t want the kid to be disappointed in me if I scare Estella off too. Trust me, she already hates me enough.”

“Good,” Tyson said, and there was a warning in his voice, “because you know Ryder wouldn’t want you getting serious about some girl. Especially when you have a big fight coming up. You can’t have any distractions, Vin. You know that, right? I’m supposed to take care of ya.”

It was always about what Ryder wanted. It was never about what the rest of us wanted. If Ryder said something, we all had to follow him blindly, regardless of whether he was right or wrong.

Fuck Ryder.

But that’s not what I said, even though the guys surrounding me had my back. This was my half of the gang; these were the guys who supported me. They were my friends. Even within our gang, there was a clear divide. There were the guys who believed that I should be leading the Madden gang. I was the prizefighter. I was the one who was unbeatable. I was the one who brought in a shitload of money.

Yet Ryder’s supporters believed that Ryder should head the gang because he was the one who’d created it. He was the oldest; he was the toughest; he was the cruelest. Ryder’s friends outnumbered mine in the gang. They were older and they were just dirtier. They had dirty ways of getting money out of people. They were the ones who’d started dealing drugs on the side. That was something I didn’t want to get involved in.

So there was the stupid silent split within our group, but no one ever did anything to try and fix it. It was probably always going to be there, but that was okay. I didn’t care about leading the gang; I just cared about having enough money to make sure Dylan got through school.

“Yeah, I know.” I felt like an asshole as my eyes sought out Riley. “I didn’t mean to get rough with you. Sometimes I just lose it because of stupid shit.”

Riley didn’t seem pissed at me, which surprised me. I figured he’d hate my sorry ass for being such a dick. “Hey, don’t worry about it. You like her; I get it.”

Some of the other guys snickered, and heat crept up my neck. I ignored him because I didn’t know what the fuck to say to that. Was that why I was acting like this? Because I liked her? That couldn’t be the reason. It had to be something else.

“Hey,” Goat said, walking away a few steps and gesturing for me and Tyson to join him. “I saw Ruby on Sunday.”

I didn’t respond. I didn’t know what a normal reaction to the situation was, so I just kept my mouth shut.

Tyson spoke instead, leaning forward eagerly. “Really? Where’d you see her?” He tried to act like he didn’t care in front of Ryder, but I knew there was a huge part of him that wanted Ruby back in his life.

As for me, I was too far gone. Despite the many things I didn’t agree with Ryder on, this wasn’t one of them. He was right to keep Ruby out of our lives. We didn’t owe her anything.

Goat flicked his cigarette onto the ground and put it out with a shoe. “She was at the bar in town where she always is.”

I snorted. “Where else would she be?”

“Look, I wouldn’t normally bring it up.” Goat’s expression turned serious. “But she didn’t look good, Vin. She had a black eye and there were bruises on her arms. Some asshole is really beating the crap out of her.”

Bunching up my fists, I tried not to react to his words, but there was a part of me that was really pissed off. I shouldn’t care, but I did. Why the fuck did I care?

“Do you know who she’s seeing?” Tyson asked, his voice shaking with anger.

Goat opened his mouth to speak, but I cut him off.

“Why the fuck should we care, Son? She doesn’t give a damn about any of us.”

Tyson fell silent, his expression torn. I knew he wanted to argue with me, but somehow I had more of an influence over him, even though I was younger. I knew he wouldn’t say anything against me.

“So let’s just fucking drop this, okay?” The warning was clear in my voice and Tyson nodded, storming off in the direction of the creek.

I didn’t bother following him. He had to resolve his Ruby issues on his own. No one was going to fix them for him. He had to realize eventually that holding onto her was a sign of weakness.

Goat stared at Tyson’s retreating figure, looking stunned. “Shit, Vin. I’m sorry. I didn’t think-”

“It’s fine.” But a part of me wasn’t fine with it, and despite what I’d just said to Tyson, I had to know. “Who’s she seeing?”

Goat hesitated, clearly wondering if he should tell me or not. “There’s this guy who comes into the bar a lot—Mikey. He’s a total douchebag; beats up on all the women he sleeps with.”

The name sounded familiar. Ruby had mentioned that name the last time she’d been here. Her story of getting beaten up hadn’t stirred any sympathy from me because as usual, I thought she’d been spewing bullshit.

“Right.” My jaw tensed, and I could feel the blood pumping through my veins. I couldn’t understand why I was letting this get to me. I didn’t give two shits about Ruby or who she was fucking.

“You okay, man?” There was a hint of concern in Goat’s question, and I knew he was worried I was gonna snap again.

When people saw Goat—big guy, muscular, lots of tattoos—they got freaked out by him. It was just a natural reaction to the way he looked. But Goat wasn’t what everyone assumed he was. He’d been through a lot of shit in his life—getting beaten up by his dad all the time and having his mom commit suicide when he was just a kid. If there was one person who really gave a damn about you, then that was Goat. There was way more to him than just being in the Madden gang.

“Yeah, I’ll be okay.” I said, because I didn’t know what else to say. “Let’s head back in.”

West and Three still hadn’t come out and it’d been a long time since we’d come outside. What the hell were they doing?

The guys followed me up the front steps. As soon as we stepped inside, jazz music drifted into the hallway from the kitchen.

“What the fuck is that?” Cohen asked from somewhere behind me.

“Dude! Estella will kill you!” Goat said.

“Shit!” Cohen said. “Crap! I swore again!”

Ignoring them, I headed straight to the kitchen, knowing what I was going to find there. It had become a routine for Estella and Dylan to dance after dinner, and I knew that’s what they were doing. What I didn’t expect to find was Three with his arms around Estella as he swung her around the room.

Estella was laughing. The blonde highlights in her hair gleamed as they caught the overhead light of the kitchen. She didn’t notice the eight of us crammed into the doorway, the guys behind me pushing and shoving to get a glimpse of what was going on.

West was leaning against the kitchen counter, watching them with a smile on his face, and Dylan sat at the kitchen table with his back to us, tapping his feet in time to the music. Three gripped Estella by the waist and lifted her up in a spin.

Estella squealed and clung onto him, still laughing. And that’s when a monster started clawing at me from the inside—jealous, angry, and insecure. She never looked at me like that. I never made her laugh like that. Her face never glowed the way it was glowing now.

My feet took me forwards, and that’s when Three caught sight of me and released Estella. She followed his gaze, a question on her lips, and frowned when she saw that I’d come back.

I wanted so badly to wipe that frown off her mouth. I hated that her face didn’t light up when she was with me. How could Three affect her so deeply, but I did nothing?

I’d been the one to see her first all those weeks ago, standing on the street looking cold and miserable. I’d been the one to speak to her. I’d been the one who’d lost myself in the depths of her whiskey eyes all those weeks ago. Not Three. Not Riley. Not anyone else.

They couldn’t come in here and claim what was already mine.

“Vin-” Estella started to say, but my name died on her lips at the look I shot her.

“Turn that crap off,” I barked to Dylan as I pulled my phone out of my pocket.

Dylan switched the radio off, and I turned back to the guys who’d crowded into the kitchen, anticipating a fight. “Get the fuck out,” I growled. “All of you.”

They glanced around at each other uneasily, but didn’t contradict me. Everyone left except for Dylan and Estella.

Scrolling through my playlist, I put on Wherever You Will Go by The Calling and turned up the volume. Placing the phone on the table, I advanced towards Estella slowly. Her eyes were wide as though she was seriously thinking about running away.

“This is the kind of music you should be dancing to. Not that shit you were listening to before.”

She briefly recovered and gave me a reprimanding look, her brow creasing. “Swear ja-”

“Stop talking, Stelle,” I ordered, taking her in my arms.

Estella’s body fitted against mine like we were two pieces of the same puzzle. She was breathing heavily against me, and I could feel how fast her pulse was. Or maybe that was my pulse; it was hard to tell where she began and where I ended.

My eyes were locked onto her, rooting her to one spot. Even if she had wanted to run away, she couldn’t. Our eyes were fusing us together; our bodies were betraying the distance that we’d always kept between us.

Being with Estella felt right. It felt like home.

As the music got to the chorus, I started to sway to it. Okay, so I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing. I’d never danced in my life. I probably looked like a goddamn idiot, but I was doing this to show her something. I couldn’t figure out exactly what that ‘something’ was, but she needed to know.

Estella’s brow had relaxed, and the surprise that’d filled her face before was gone. Now she just looked confused. Her lips were parted and I wanted so badly to kiss that mouth of hers. Those lips were begging to be kissed.

And, fuck, I wanted her so much. I was hard against her, and I knew that she could tell because she started to move away, but I held onto her. I wanted her to stay.

“I’ll go wherever you go,” I whispered, and I didn’t really know what I meant by it, but her eyes widened at my words.

Then I bowed my head towards her because I had to have a taste of her mouth. Nothing else existed but her. I had to know what it was like to have her.

“Vincent.” The voice was cold; it was so cold that it felt like my body had been submerged in ice cold water.

I jerked away from Estella and looked over towards the doorway to find Ryder standing at the entrance of the kitchen. There was a look of disgust on his face as he stared at me and Estella like we were pieces of shit.

“I need to talk to you. Now.” He wasn’t fucking around. I was in serious shit.

Without another look at Estella, I stalked after him out onto the porch. He stood straight against the wooden railing that wrapped around the porch, and even though I was taller than him, I suddenly felt a hell of a lot smaller from the way he looked at me.

He didn’t wait for me to prepare myself; he just started ripping into me like an animal in mid-attack. “What the fuck is going on with you, Vincent?” His voice was low, but each word sounded dangerous coming out of his mouth. “What the fuck are you doing with that girl? Have you lost your fucking mind?”

He might as well have punched me in the gut, that’s how winded I felt in the aftermath of his words. There was a buzzing in my brain; I had absolutely no response to his questions. My mouth felt dry, and when I swallowed, my throat was sore.

When I didn’t say anything, he let out a snarl and punched the wooden post behind him. “Dammit, Vincent! You’re the one I rely on! You’re the one I can count on to think like I do. But I don’t know what the fuck happened to you. First, I have Tyson acting like a complete pussy when Ruby shows up, and now this girl has a hold on your fucking balls. What the fuck is going on with you? Tell me.”

This time I knew I had to give him an answer. He wasn’t going to take silence from me, and I didn’t want to make him wait. “There’s nothing up with me,” I said through clenched teeth.

“Don’t fucking lie to me.” He stepped forward, and for a minute I wasn’t his brother anymore; I was a threat. I was someone he didn’t trust. “You were dancing with that girl. Dancing! Fuck, Vincent! How many times have I told you that women are for fucking, that’s it. They’re not for you to love or take of, or to dance with. Have you forgotten everything I taught you?”

He didn’t wait for an answer; he just kept going. “Women are manipulative and they fuck up our lives. And, that girl, do you really think she’ll ever be with a guy like you? She looks down on people like us, Vin. She judges us; fucking good girl with her perfect life. She’ll never see you as anything but a failure.”

As Ryder said each word, I realized he was right. Estella was a fucking saint; she didn’t fit in with us, no matter how well she’d gotten along with the boys today. It’d probably been an act, anyway. She’d probably been too scared to do anything else.

I knew she’d gotten pissed at me when I’d accused her of having a perfect life, but there was no way her life could be worse than ours. What was the worst thing that’d happened to her? Probably nothing. Nothing that even came close to the life that we had.

I’d been so stupid. I’d been weak. I’d let her get to me. I’d let her smile, and her laughter, and those eyes get to me. I’d deluded myself into thinking that she belonged to me when, really, we didn’t know a fucking thing about each other.

“She makes you weak,” Ryder said, as if he’d glimpsed my thoughts. “And you’re not a weak person; I’ve taught you to get rid of weaknesses, but this girl, she, gets under your skin. I saw the way you looked at her. You ain’t ever looked at a girl like that before. She got to you, but you can’t let her. You can’t let a girl be your weakness, Vin. You’re a fighter; you’re not weak like Ruby.”

He was right. Everything he said was the truth. Estella was my weakness; I’d let her get under my skin. Somehow, she’d crept inside my brain, but I had to get rid of the effect she had on me.

I had to forget every single moment that had passed between us. I had to forget those whiskey eyes.

Chapter Seventeen

Estella

When Vincent pulled up outside my house later that night, my head felt like it was going through a blender.

So much had happened between us in the span of a few hours that I didn’t know what to think or how to act around him. First, he’d danced with me. Then he’d said that he’d go wherever I would go, although he could’ve just been quoting the lyrics of the song we’d danced to. And, finally, I swear he’d been about to kiss me before Ryder interrupted us.

At least that’s what it had seemed like. Maybe I had wanted so desperately for him to kiss me that I’d imagined the entire thing, because as soon as he’d gone outside with Ryder and come back in a few minutes later, he’d started acting strange.

All of a sudden, he’d become cold and distant, like he couldn’t wait to be rid of me. And as much as I tried to tell myself that it didn’t matter how he acted around me—that I was only there for Dylan—it was a complete lie. I did care how Vincent treated me.

The truth was, I was attracted to him. I’d been attracted to him the first night I’d met him. His tattoos, which should’ve been a turn-off for me, barely registered on my radar anymore. I’d noticed them too late. I’d already been drawn in by his eyes, his smile, and by the confidence that radiated off him.

I wasn’t a stupid girl. I wasn’t foolish or naïve. I had experienced things that had changed me forever. I knew that there were many things wrong with Vincent. I knew he wasn’t the safe, stable, boring guy I had imagined spending my life with. I knew all this, yet I still found it difficult to shake him from my mind.

The problem was I hadn’t fallen for Vincent straight away, like a silly, ridiculous girl. I hadn’t giggled over him and talked about him to my friends and discussed how sexy he was. No, whatever was happening between Vincent and I had taken weeks; it had taken time to build between us. It was something built on familiarity and routine.

Just from weeks of watching him, I had started to figure him out. I knew he was reckless and that he had a temper, but I also knew that beneath all that was someone who was just as broken as I was.

Somehow, in this large world, gravity had pulled us together in all our brokenness, with all our issues. Maybe it meant nothing at all, but a part of me knew that it meant something, and I was in serious denial if I tried to convince myself that Vincent meant nothing at all to me.

So as I climbed off his bike and removed the helmet, I was determined to break down this cold wall that Vincent had suddenly put up between us.

Nervousness was slowly filling me up, but I just went with it because I wasn’t going to let it get the better of me. “It really meant a lot to Dylan that you didn’t leave this afternoon.”

Vincent was still wearing his helmet, and for a second I wondered if he’d heard me not. The silence stretched between us, and I gripped the helmet in my hands, refusing to hand it over. It was my bargaining chip to stop him from riding off.

Then Vincent took his helmet off and fixed me with a glare that made me feel like he had kicked me in the stomach. “I don’t need you to tell me what my brother thinks. He can speak for himself.”

Despite the harshness of what he’d said, I somehow managed to form words. Mainly because I knew that Vincent was doing this as a defense mechanism. We’d just had an amazing afternoon together. I had done nothing wrong and his anger was unjustified.

“I know he can speak for himself.” I paused, trying to find the right words to say. “I just think it was sweet of you to stick around and dance.” My tone became teasing and I was kind of hoping to see a smile on his face.

Even in the darkness, I could see Vincent’s eyes harden and his mouth tighten. “I don’t care what you think. I don’t care what you say. You mean nothing to me. Nothing.”

His words sent a shock through my entire system, and I gasped at the way each word cut into me. The look in his eyes was enough to make my blood run cold, but it was the fact that he’d said I meant nothing to him that affected me the most.

It was impossible to believe that in just an hour, Vincent had completely transformed from the man who had swept me off my feet into someone who didn’t want me in their life. The way his eyes had fixed onto me in his kitchen, as though I was his only desire in this world, seemed to be a faraway dream. Had I imagined the entire thing? Was I losing my mind?

“Y-you don’t mean that.” I hated how weak my voice sounded, but I had to make sure. There had to be a part of Vincent that cared about me. I didn’t know why it was so important to me that this boy feel something for me, but as stupid as it was, a part of me needed to hear that he did care.

For a moment, I thought I saw something shift in Vincent’s eyes, but maybe I imagined that too, because a second later, his eyes were hard again. “Desperation doesn’t suit you,” he said, his lips twisting cruelly.

A gasp wracked through me, and I dropped the helmet onto the ground and stumbled backwards, my mind a mess of emotions. I hated myself for feeling like this; I didn’t want to be affected by Vincent. I had tried to convince myself that I didn’t care about him, but obviously I’d lied to myself.

But I couldn’t let that show. I couldn’t let him see that he had gotten to me. I had to be as cold as he was.

“The only desperate one is you. Otherwise you wouldn’t let those sluts into your bed.” My voice was flat, clear of all emotion, and I was proud that I could be as uncaring and ruthless as he was.

Before my façade slipped and I broke down, I turned and headed towards my house, misery descending upon me like a cloud.

There were feelings inside me for Vincent—I wasn’t sure exactly what those feelings were—yet he felt nothing for me. The reality of that was like a knife slicing through my chest, and I stumbled blindly up the steps to my front door.

I didn’t look back. I refused to give Vincent the satisfaction of seeing that he’d gotten to me. I refused to give Vincent anything.

He would not break me. He could not break me. I was beyond broken—I was dead.

* * *

I was really surprised when I got a call from Dylan on Thursday afternoon.

“Estella?” he asked, sounding uncertain when I answered the phone.

“Yes? Dylan?” He had never called me before, so I began to worry that something bad had happened. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” he assured me quickly, then paused. “Um, Vincent told me to tell you that he can’t pick you up on Friday, so I’m just supposed to meet you at the library to study there.”

I barely flinched as Dylan’s words sunk in. It was obvious that this was just an excuse for Vincent to put distance between us. A part of me had been prepared for this after our fight on Tuesday night.

“How are you getting to the library?” I asked.

“Three’s coming with me.”

A smile formed on my mouth. As prejudiced as I had originally been against the Madden gang, I had to admit that I did like Three. He didn’t seem to take all this gang nonsense as seriously as some of the other members, and he was actually a very good-natured guy, with this ability to make me laugh easily.

“That’s fine,” I said, “I’ll see you at 4 o’clock.”

Once I hung up, I dialed Hadie’s number. The phone rang for a while before Hadie picked up just as I was considering hanging up.

“Hey, Hadie!” I said in my brightest tone.

Yes, I sounded like a complete and utter nut job. My over-cheerful demeanor had less to do with trying to make Hadie feel better and more to do with me trying to act as though Vincent’s apathy didn’t affect me. Which was weird when you thought about it. I was trying not to care about someone who didn’t care about me, even though I did care.

“Hi, Estee.”

My stupid selfishness faded at the sound of Hadie’s voice. My best friend was no longer the same person anymore and all I could think about was a guy. When had I become so shallow?

“I was wondering if you wanted to have a girls’ night at your house. Just you and me. I’ve missed you.” As much as I loved Mariah, I knew Hadie would have an easier time talking to me without Ray being there.

It’d been nearly a month since Hadie had lost her boyfriend and she had yet to speak about it to anyone. If Eddie was right about Hadie withdrawing, I had to try and get her to open up somehow.

“Yeah, I guess that would be okay.” There was reluctance in her tone, but I knew she didn’t want to let me down. “I don’t know if I’ll be great company though.”

“It’s okay, I’ll be great company enough for the both of us,” I said with a smile that wasn’t forced. “I have a tutoring session tomorrow, but I’ll get Anna to drop me off at your house afterwards.”

“Don’t worry about it. I can take you. Penthill, right?”

“Yes, at the library. Then we could go straight to your house when I’m done.”

“Sounds good. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

Once we’d hung up, I headed into the kitchen to make chicken stew to take for Dylan tomorrow. Just because Vincent didn’t want me at his house didn’t mean that I would stop taking care of Dylan.

* * *

“You know, if things don’t work out between you and Vincent, I’m more than happy to step in,” Three said, his voice very close to my ear as Hadie and I browsed the classics section of the library.

We’d left Dylan alone in the last ten minutes of our tutoring session so he could finish up some English homework, and Three had followed us along with his ridiculous chatter.

With a roll of my eyes, I replaced the copy of The Scarlett Letter back on the shelf, trying to prevent the smile from creeping onto my face. It never bothered me what Three said because I knew most things that came out of his mouth were a joke; he was never serious when he made comments like that.

“I plan on marrying a handsome, intelligent doctor. You’re just not going to cut it for me, Three.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Hadie looking at me, and we both grinned at each other. At least Three and I were keeping her mood up.

Three staggered against the bookshelf, clutching his heart. “How can you say such cruel things to me, dearest Estella? My love for you is like a big, giant, bowl of swirling hormones that I can’t control.”

Hadie snorted, and Three placed an arm around my shoulders, his blue eyes twinkling. “I have to keep you and your hormones in line somehow,” I said, pushing him off me. “I don’t want any unnecessary suitors.”

“I can buy a suit if you want me to,” Three said, flashing me a cute grin.

Hadie burst into laughter as I tried to get my own laughter under control. “I don’t think a suit will help you. You’re kind of a lost cause.”

We started walking down the aisle and back towards where Dylan was sitting. It was about time we started heading home.

Three’s face fell with rejection, which I knew was all an act. “I never had a chance anyway, not with Vincent declaring you off limits.”

My steps faltered, and I scrutinized him, checking his face for any signs of him joking. Three evenly matched my stare. “I don’t know what you mean by Vincent declaring me off limits. There’s nothing going on between us and there never will be. I don’t mean anything to him.”

Three caught my arm, surprise spilling onto his face. “Why would you think that?”

“No reason.” Heat crept along my neck like a caterpillar. There was no way I was going to admit to him that the words had come straight out of Vincent’s mouth. I was already humiliated by the entire situation. “So I don’t understand why he would declare anything about me.”

He stared at me in disbelief. “Girls are so messed up in the head. You always think the wrong thing about us.” He blew out a breath, looking agitated. “He wouldn’t have warned us all off if he didn’t have a thing for you.”

“Um, okay then.” I was trying to process everything he’d just said, but my brain was trying to reject the idea that Vincent had claimed me as his territory.

I mean, that’s basically what he’d done, wasn’t it? Essentially, I was a like a tree that he’d peed on. But I was a tree that he’d only peed on because I was part of the routine. That didn’t mean he didn’t pee on other trees. It didn’t make me special or different; I wasn’t naïve. There were other trees in his life.

Dear lord, I was losing it. I was comparing our relationship to that of a dog and a tree. I was so glad no one could read my mind right now because they probably would declare me clinically insane.

“Estella, I’m done!” Dylan came bounding up to us just then, a huge smile plastered across his face.

My attention turned to Dylan, and I returned the smile. It was hard to be down when Dylan’s mood was so infectious. “That’s great, Dil! Did you have any trouble with the rest of the questions.”

“Nope.” Dylan shook his head, his eyes bright as he looked up at me. “Do you really have to go now? Can’t you come to our house?”

Three and Hadie walked past us, leaving Dylan and I alone. Reaching over, I ran my hand through his feathery, blonde hair, hating that I had to disappoint him. It seemed pretty obvious to me that Vincent didn’t want me at the house, and I wasn’t going to put myself in a position where he called me “desperate” again.

“I’m sorry, I can’t.” I glanced over to where Hadie was standing with Three. “My friend’s waiting for me.”

“Oh, it’s okay,” Dylan said, even though I knew he didn’t mean it. “Thanks for the stew.”

“No problem.” I took Dylan’s hand in mine, and we started to head out of the library and into the cold November afternoon. “I’ll see you on Tuesday, okay?”

There was an awkward silence as we all crowded around Three’s truck. Hadie was staring at something in the distance, Three was shooting me a teasing smile, and Dylan was somber like he was on his way to a funeral.

Finally, Dylan broke the silence. “We didn’t dance today.” He seemed sad that we’d broken our tradition, and I felt bad for letting him down.

“It’s okay, sweetie,” I said, giving him a firm smile. “There will come a time when we can dance whenever we want.”

I wasn’t sure how much truth was in that promise, but a part of me hoped that it was something that would become a possibility one day. Hopefully, Vincent would get over his issues and let me spend more time with his brother in their home.

We went our separate ways, and Hadie and I discussed how she was still trying to catch up on all the work she’d fallen behind on when she’d taken time off from school. It was sad to hear about her struggling so much with her classes, because she was so intelligent and had never had any problems academically before.

Once we got to Hadie’s house, her mom welcomed us at the door.

“Hi, Estella, it’s good to see you,” she said, enveloping me in a hug.

“Hi, Mrs. Swinton. How have you been?”

“Not too bad,” she said as she ushered us inside. “Dinner’s ready if you girls are hungry. I made meatloaf because we had leftovers from last night and I was feeling lazy.”

I couldn’t help but grin at that. The thing about Hadie’s parents was that they had a really quirky sense of humor. I absolutely loved them for it. They had really supported me and my family after my mom had left.

“Where’s Dad?” Hadie asked as Mrs. Swinton served us dinner.

“He’s working late,” Mrs. Swinton said, her expression quite serious, “but I think that’s just an excuse. I’m pretty sure he’s sleeping with the receptionist.”

I choked on a piece of meat as I tried to stifle my laugher. Okay, you’re probably wondering why I found that so funny. See, the thing is, Mrs. Swinton was the receptionist at the law firm that Hadie’s dad worked at, so undoubtedly he was sleeping with her.

“Interesting,” Hadie said, barely cracking a smile.

My best friend’s lack of reaction was pretty concerning. As she picked at her dinner with a fork, I exchanged a concerned look with Mrs. Swinton. I wasn’t the only one worried about her. I was glad to have alone time with Hadie tonight. We really needed to talk about how she was dealing with everything.

I gave Mrs. Swinton a reassuring smile, and we continued to make small talk until we were done eating. After dinner, Hadie and I changed into our PJs and climbed into her bed, getting under the covers to keep warm. Hadie had switched off the light, so I stared up at the ceiling, looking into darkness.

It was only eight o’clock, but we were both exhausted. Most kids our age would’ve been out at a party or something. I’m pretty sure Ray had mentioned something about a bonfire, but it really wasn’t Hadie or my thing. Sometimes I felt like we were both a lot older than seventeen.

“Eddie’s really worried about you,” I said, as a way to break the silence.

“Is he?’ Hadie asked, her voice tense.

I nodded, even though she couldn’t see me. “Yes, he is.”

“Okay.” She fell silent.

“He’s a really sweet guy.”

“I know.”

“I know you’re not okay,” I said, finally getting to the point. “I understand why you’re not okay, and I just want you to know that I’m here for you.”

Hadie sighed deeply. “What do you want me to say to that? I don’t know what everyone expects from me.”

“I just want you to say that you’ll be okay one day.”

“Well, I can’t say that because I don’t think I’ll ever be okay. I don’t think I’ll ever move past this. It’s impossible to forget him.” Her voice caught in her throat, and I reached over to hold her but she pushed me away. “No, don’t. It’s something I need to get over myself. I’m sick of talking about it; I just want to wallow in my misery. I want to do this on my own. In my own way; in my own time.”

I knew where she was coming from. I was the exact same. I had a lot of problems of my own that I didn’t want to share with anyone else. I dealt with them alone because when I felt everything slipping away from me, I liked to have some semblance of control in my life.

“Then that’s okay too, I guess.”

Hadie sighed again, and slipped her hand into mine. “Can we talk about something else, please? I’m already sick of talking about this with the therapist every week. Ray said something about you and a Madden who’s so sexy she wants to lick his skin off.”

I tried not to gag at the mental image of Mariah licking Vincent. “I’ve already come to the conclusion that Ray has brain damage, so I guess it’s normal for her to think a member of the Madden gang is sexy.”

“So Dylan’s brother is in the Madden gang?”

“Not exactly. Dylan’s brothers are the Madden gang.” I said in a casual tone. “The three oldest brothers are actual Maddens who run the gang.”

“Wow,” Hadie breathed, “I missed a lot. What are they like? Terrifying?”

“Um, I wouldn’t say that.” I paused. “They’re interesting. I guess I didn’t expect them to actually be so human. I expected them to have no feelings and just go around beating up everyone, but they’re not like that at all.”

“And, what about this Vincent guy Ray keeps going on about? He’s the one who hired you, right? What’s he like?”

My chest tightened at the thought of Vincent. I’d tried so hard not to think too much about him tonight. It felt weird not seeing him, like I was missing something that I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

“He’s...” I searched for the word, “complicated, I guess. He holds back a lot.  I think it’s all part of the tough guy act he has going on and he’s trying hard not to be weak. But there’s obviously a lot going on in his life and he’s pretty messed up.”

“Do you like him?”

I hesitated, not really sure how I felt about Vincent. At the moment, I kind of wanted to give him a piece of my mind.

“He’s not a bad guy.”

It was obvious that I’d avoided answering her question, but thankfully Hadie didn’t press the topic any further.

“How are things with your dad?”

This was another topic that I didn’t really want to talk about. My friends knew about my dad’s issues, but they didn’t really know how bad things had gotten for us. A part of me just wanted to tell Hadie everything that was going on in my life. I wanted to tell someone, anyone, what was happening to me.

I wanted to ask for help, I really did, but I was ashamed. I was ashamed of what I let him do to us. I was afraid that people would judge me. I was scared that somehow this was my fault and I would be blamed for letting it continue for so long.

Besides, Hadie had enough problems of her own without me adding to that. I didn’t want to make her feel even worse, so I just swallowed away all that pain that had been stored in my chest for so long that it had become a part of me.

I was pain.

“Things are better,” I lied, because I truly wanted to believe that. “Things are definitely better with him.”

And as the lie left my mouth, I could almost pretend that my lie was a truth.

Chapter Eighteen

Vincent

The air crackled with excitement—the crowd was bloodthirsty tonight.

People surged around me, moving forward as they tried to get a view of the two fighters. I wasn’t fighting tonight, but I was here to scope out my competition.

Whoever won tonight would be fighting me in a couple of weeks. That would be the big fight; that was the fight everyone bet the big bucks on. That was the fight I couldn’t lose. Ryder was making sure I kept my focus for it.

This fight was a big deal for everyone involved in the amateur circle, and by the looks of it, the newcomer wasn’t going to go down easy. He was in the ring with Smith, who was probably our best fighter after me, and seemed to be getting the better of him.

“Look at that guy,” Ryder said from beside me. “He’s not holding back. That’s a guy who’s been through shit in his life. That’s how you can tell a good fighter, little bro. You can tell by how desperate they are; from how dirty they fight.”

I didn’t respond. Instead, I continued to watch Smith and the newcomer. The guy Ryder was talking about wasn’t as big as his Smith. He had dark blonde hair, was a little taller than me, and was lean and muscular. Smith was a huge son of a bitch and people were usually intimidated by his size alone. They usually just psyched themselves out and Smith would win easy. He knew how to use his size to get into people’s heads. The main issue with Smith was that he was a stupid fighter.

His punches kept missing because he swung without focus. His strategy was to hit the smaller guy and knock him down, but he wasn’t really considering anything else beyond that. His movements were slow and delayed, while the other guy was quick on his feet. His eyes were calculating as he dodged Smith’s large fists every single time.

I leaned forward eagerly. This fight was getting good now. Smith was hard to beat, but it seemed pretty obvious that the newcomer had an advantage over him.

I could tell. The crowd could tell. All eyes were on the new guy.

And then the fight turned deadly. Smith let out a roar and moved forwards, throwing both his fists around like a moron, hitting air every single time. The newcomer jumped out of the way, and then he suddenly darted to the left and punched hard against Smith’s side.

The crowd let out a chorus of “oohs”, but the fight wasn’t over yet. Smith clutched his side, obviously in pain, and that’s when the newcomer started barraging him with punches and kicks at lightning speed. He was relentless, he was merciless; he didn’t show any signs of stopping, until Smith was out cold.

Smith’s supporters—mainly our guys—starting heckling and swearing at the newcomer, who didn’t seem fazed by the assholes yelling around him. There was a lot of cheering too, and he was swept up into the crowd.

There was a gleam in Ryder’s eyes when he turned to me. “That’s Troy’s new guy. Not bad, huh?”

I shrugged, not letting the nervousness show on my face. I never got nervous, but all of a sudden something made me not want to be in the upcoming fight. This was what Ryder meant by not losing focus. If I went into a fight and my head wasn’t in the game, I was majorly screwed.

“You can take him though. He’s good, but he’s not as good as you are,” Ryder said, unfazed by how quiet I was. He grabbed me by the shoulders with enthusiasm. “Shit, Vin! We’re gonna make so much money from this fight! Bets are already being lined up and it’s pretty even at this point. There’s no way you’re gonna lose this thing.”

I didn’t bother to answer him.

What the hell was I supposed to say? I couldn’t tell him how I was feeling because he’d give me shit for being weak. All I could do was act like everything was fine—that I was fine—and that I was confident about the upcoming fight; that I wanted to win, and that I would win. Because I never lost a fight.

“Yeah, I’ll pound his ass into the ground.”

Ryder grinned and led me through the crowd, and once again I couldn’t help but feel like my life was under someone else’s control. I kept wanting to break free and make my own decisions, but Ryder was in charge of me, and I let him play that role in my life like I was a fucking puppet.

Later that night, we sat around a small fire at the creek behind our house. The boys were all here, drinking and smoking and being loud. As usual, there were lots of girls around, but none of them caught my interest.

I was quiet as I sat with Goat and Three, who kept going on about the newcomer that the Allbrooks were backing. Everyone was talking about his victory against Smith and wondering how he’d stack up against me.

“Did you see how fast he was?” Three’s face was lit in an orange glow from the fire. “Shit! I couldn’t keep up with all the punches he threw. Smith won’t be getting laid for a long time. Poor bastard.”

After the fight tonight, Smith had barely been able to move. He was one of the best fighters we had and he’d gotten his ass pummeled. Sure, it sucked to get your ass kicked, but the embarrassment was a hell of a lot worse than any physical damage he’d endured. He was getting a lot of shit for letting a new guy kick his ass in.

“So a pretty shit day all round,” Goat said as he took a puff of his cigarette. “We didn’t even get any dinner from Estella tonight.”

“I did,” Three said, looking pleased with himself. “She brought stew for Dylan and he let me have some.”

“You lucky bastard,” Goat growled.

Three held up his hands in defense. “Hey, don’t go hatin’ on me. Vin was the one who didn’t want her at the house.”

Goat glanced at me sideways. “What’s up with that, huh? She’s probably the only chick we know who’s not easy and who we actually don’t treat like a piece of meat.”

Three snickered. “She’d be good to eat.”

I shot him a glare but he only grinned back at me. “You totally wanna do her, Vin. Admit it. That’s why you get all protective over her. You don’t do that with other girls, just her.”

When I didn’t say anything, Three kept on talking. “She’s something else though, and man can she cook.”

I knew what he was trying to do. He was trying to get me to admit how I felt about Estella, but that wasn’t going to happen. I would never admit it to him, to anyone, that she’d been on my mind all day. I’d never admit that it’d killed me not seeing her today, but I’d decided that in order to stop thinking about her, I’d have to stop seeing her, too.

I’d never forget the look on her face when I’d called her desperate. It’d completely torn me apart. I didn’t want to care about her; I was trying to avoid her as much as I could, but for some reason I did care.

As hard as I tried, I couldn’t give her up.

But I had to try. For my fucking sanity, I had to try.

“I don’t give a shit if she can cook.” I stood up and drained the rest of my beer. Then I walked over to the bunch of girls who were crowding around Ryder. None of these girls was her; they would never be good enough, but one of them would have to do.

If I didn’t get her out of my system, she was going to drive me insane.

The girl closest to me had a really nice ass and I grabbed it. She let out a squeal and turned around, her face lighting up when she caught sight of me.

“Vincent! You’re so bad.” Her tone was flirtatious as she tilted her head to the side, looking at me like she couldn’t wait to rip my clothes off.

I grabbed her by the waist and pulled her towards me, not caring who saw us. “Do you wanna see how bad I can really be?”

From the way her lips curved up into a smile, I knew she wanted me. Her eyes weren’t the right color, her hair was too short, and she was curvy, but she would do for tonight.

Tonight I needed to forget about a girl. I needed to forget about a girl who had the power to bring me to my knees and destroy me.

Chapter Nineteen

Estella

On Monday night, I found myself finishing up early and heading outside twenty minutes before Savannah was due to pick me up.

I was glad we’d finished up early tonight because my head hadn’t been focused on my work at all; it’d been somewhere else, distracting me from doing my job. Being around people tonight had suffocated my thoughts, and I’d rushed to finish so I could escape into the cold November night.

I’d just have to brave the next twenty minutes until Savannah got here, but I didn’t mind so much. The freezing air against my face was sobering, and despite my best efforts to stay warm, a chill seeped into my skin.

My mind drifted to thoughts of the Maddens, even though I was desperately trying not to think about them. I was supposed to have a tutoring session with Dylan tomorrow, and I wasn’t sure what the arrangements were. I’d kind of expected Dylan to call like he had on Thursday, but so far I’d heard nothing.

Was I still banned from their house? Were we going to meet at the library like last time? Was I even still Dylan’s tutor?

I honestly had no idea what the circumstances were anymore, but I felt obligated to find out. I really didn’t want to call Vincent and ask, just in case he thought I was desperate, but I had to do it for Dylan. Someone had to be the mature one here and that had to be me. This was my job after all and I depended on that money.

But it wasn’t just about the money. Dylan had a place in my heart and I couldn’t stand to disappoint him. Maybe Vincent didn’t mind disappointing his brother, but I did.

Reluctantly, I dialed Vincent’s number and waited for him to answer. The phone rang for a long time, and I wondered if Vincent had seen my number and didn’t want to answer.

Then the line connected. “Yeah?”

The sound of his voice started up a thrumming in my chest that travelled through my entire body. It was hard not to be affected by Vincent. I had let him in and now I couldn’t push him out.

Taking a deep breath, I tried to get my emotions under control. I couldn’t care about a guy who was so cold towards me. I had to match his attitude; that was the only way to survive in his world.

“I’m calling to ask about my tutoring lesson with Dylan tomorrow.” I was proud of how detached I sounded, but then I frowned. What was happening to me? I was trying to be something I wasn’t because of a guy. That wasn’t right either.

“What about it?” he snapped.

Sighing, I leaned against the wall in defeat. My resolve to be cold had lasted a few seconds at best. This wasn’t me. I wasn’t uncaring like him. Caring about everyone else was who I was. I wasn’t going to change myself just so I could compete with Vincent in a stupid game about who was most uncaring.

No. I wouldn’t put myself through that.

The sound of approaching footsteps made me straighten up and survey the dark street. This night reminded me of the night I’d first met Vincent in the same exact place. A part of me was hoping that the footsteps belonged to him, but that was just me being foolish.

“Well, it’s just that tomorrow is Tuesday and I hadn’t heard from…” I trailed off as a figure appeared out of the darkness.

Gripping my bag tighter, I held my breath as the figure approached me. One thing I knew for sure; it wasn’t Vincent. This man was shorter with lighter hair, and he definitely didn’t have the same effect on me that Vincent did.

I looked pointedly in the other direction, hoping he’d ignore me and continue walking, but when he didn’t pass me by, I turned back to find him standing right beside me. There was a look on his face like he’d just won a prize, and fear settled into me, squeezing my heart so tight that I felt like I was going to choke.

“C-can I help you?” I asked, hoping he just needed directions or the time.

“Maybe,” he said, with an unpleasant sneer on his face. “It depends on whether or not you were the girl with Vincent last week.”

This was about Vincent? What the heck was going on?

“I…uh.” There were alarms ringing in my head, warning me not to give away any information. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

“Don’t fucking lie to me.” The guy suddenly pulled out a knife and pressed it against my throat. The cold metal sliced into my skin, and pain and fear raced through me.

I wanted to scream, I wanted to push him away, but fear had immobilized me. My hand went limp, and the phone slipped from my fingers and fell onto the ground.

“You’re the girl I saw with him last week. You were standing right here and he was holding your hand.”

My mind went blank and I forgot how to speak. Panic was strangling me as my insides screamed for help. But there was no one to help me. I was all alone.

My eyes were fixed firmly on the knife that he held in front of me. Yes, I was terrified beyond words, but I also didn’t want to let him win. I was tired of men treating me however they liked and getting me to do what they wanted through intimidation.

It didn’t matter that he held a knife to my throat; I was already dead inside. I had been dead for a long time now. What I refused to give up was my dignity. This man was not going to get the better of me. He would not win.

Instead of shrinking away, I straightened up and fixed him with a look of defiance that made him stare at me in surprise and then burst into laughter.

“Well, I can see why he likes you.” He flicked a strand of hair out of my face. “You’re easy on the eyes and you’ve got balls. More balls than those Maddens got. See, there’s one thing I know about Vincent Madden; he doesn’t hold hands with girls. So what I wanna know is what makes you so different?”

When he got no answer, he stuck the knife back in his pocket and grabbed me by the shoulders. His blue eyes had taken on a sinister glint. “Okay, I get it. You’re upset with me. I’m sorry I got angry and lost control. It’s just I get angry when people lie to me. Let me start again; I’m Conor and I’m in the Allbrook gang. Now, the thing is, Vincent’s busted up a lot of our guys and we’re losing money. Troy doesn’t like it when we lose money.”

My brow creased as Conor said all this. Who was this Troy person? And why was Vincent beating up guys and making the Allbrook gang lose money? None of this was making any sense to me.

“I don’t know anything about that,” I managed to say, despite the raw, arid feeling in my throat.

A cruel smile curled around Conor’s mouth. “That’s okay; I just need you to give Vincent a message. Tell him that he needs to lose the next fight or things are gonna get ugly. Tell him that it’s not hard for me to get to the things that are important to him.” Conor leaned in and brushed his lips against mine. I let out a cry of outrage which only made him laugh. “See ya around, beautiful. If you ever get sick of doing a Madden, I’m more than happy to have you in my bed.”

Laughing, he shoved me hard against the wall. The impact of my back against the bricks sent a sharp stab of pain shooting through me, and tears pricked my eyes. Frozen in fear, I watched Conor saunter away.

Several long minutes passed before my fear began to fade away and I felt certain he wasn’t coming back. Finally, with shaky fingers, I reached down and picked up the discarded phone and pressed it to my ear.

“Stelle! Stelle! What the hell is going on?” Vincent’s voice was urgent on the other end of the line, the indifference gone from his tone. Now he sounded genuinely scared. “Shit, Stelle! Say something! Is he gone?”

“Yes,” I managed to say.

My brain felt fuzzy, and the skin around my neck was where the knife had sliced into was sore. There wasn’t any blood, but the skin still seared when I touched it. An itch was starting up on my left arm, exactly where my scar was, and I subconsciously starting rubbing it against the side of my leg.

“Listen to me carefully. I want you to go next door to the auto shop. Three should still be there. Stay with him until I get there, okay?”

“My sister’s coming to get me,” I choked out. If I wasn’t here when Savannah came to pick me up, she’d get worried.

“Tell her to meet you at the auto shop. I’ll be there soon, Stelle. Just go wait for me there. Please.” There was an edge of desperation in his voice, and I found myself nodding.

“Okay.”

When Vincent hung up, I typed out a quick text message to Savannah telling her where I’d be. Once I hit ‘send’, I urged my feet to hurry next door to the auto shop. As I rounded the corner, I slammed into someone and let out a scream, afraid that Conor had doubled back somehow.

“Shit, Estella!” The voice was familiar, and blinking away the blur in my eyes, I saw that Three was reaching out to steady me. “It’s okay, it’s just me. Vincent told me what happened. C’mon, let me take you inside.”

Three’s firm hand was on my back, guiding me around the corner and towards the auto shop. My mind was racing, and I barely managed to keep my shaky legs from stumbling over the sidewalk. Relief washed over me when the light from the auto shop greeted me. Three took me inside and sat me down in a chair.

“Shit, you’re shaking real bad.” Three’s voice sounded far away, like it was coming from another room. “Did he hurt you?”

Somehow, I managed to shake my head. My head was all fuzzy and my thoughts were scattered. Snippets of my confrontation with Conor were drifting in and out of my head. I wanted to get his face out of my mind. I wanted to forget the cold gleam in his eyes as he held the knife to my throat. I’d been able to show some bravado—which made me proud of myself—but inside I was crumbling away. The strings that held me together were slowly coming undone.

Then all of a sudden someone was shaking me and his voice brought me back to life. “Stelle! Look at me!”

My eyes snapped open and all I could see was Vincent’s face in my vision. There was a crease in his brow that gave away how worried he was for me. For a second I just let myself drown in the depths of his dark eyes. That darkness was reassuring; it made me feel safe. It was familiar. It was something that the broken part of me desperately held onto.

Then all of a sudden, two hands grabbed the sides of my face and I resurfaced.

“Stelle, are you okay?” Vincent’s voice was urgent, his eyes probing as they searched my face for any signs of harm.

I nodded. “Yes, I’m fine. He held a knife to my throat.”

The hands dropped from my face and Vincent placed his fingers on my chin and gently raised my head. I could sense his eyes on the small cut that I knew was on my neck. I could still feel it stinging.

“Does it hurt?” His voice was sounded tense. “Did he cut you anywhere else?”

“No, that’s the only place,” I said, chewing my lip as Conor’s words came back to me. “He said something about a fight. You heard him, didn’t you? What was he talking about? What fight? Why is the Allbrook gang losing money?”

Vincent didn’t answer me straight away. Instead he moved over to where Three was standing at a distance. “Go outside and wait for her sister.”

Three nodded and left us alone. Vincent stood still for such a long time that I finally rose to my feet. He seemed startled and hurried to me, grasping my arms as though I was an invalid who couldn’t walk.

Despite the events of the night, it annoyed me that all of a sudden he was so concerned about me when he’d told me only last week that I meant nothing to him. I couldn’t stand the games he played with me. I didn’t need this uncertainty in my life.

“Let go of me!” I snapped, my fear and frustration channeling into anger directed at Vincent.

It was because of him that a member of the Allbrook gang had held a knife to my throat. It was because of him that my heart didn’t know what to feel. It was because of him that I’d been miserable this past week.

Vincent’s eyes widened and his arms went slack as they released me. “Stelle, I want to tell you what’s going on. I want to keep you safe.”

“No!” My voice shook as I jabbed him hard in the chest. “I am not listening to you anymore! You can’t just play with my emotions all the time. I’ve been nothing but polite to you since I started tutoring Dylan, but you can’t even show me a little respect and be civil towards me. You have no right to keep me safe. I mean nothing to you.”

The cold mask that Vincent had always worn around me completely shattered. His brow was pinched together like I’d said something to seriously hurt him. It was then that I realized that Vincent’s mask had been made from fragile glass. Now it was broken.

“I shouldn’t have said that,” he said, his voice low. “I was pissed off when I said that, but I still shouldn’t have said it. I should’ve called you to explain.”

My chest was heaving from my outburst, but the anger was fading away now. My emotions were a complete train wreck; I was a complete train wreck. I felt completely depleted. There was no fight left in me anymore.

“Then explain,” I said, my voice heavy with defeat.

The sooner I knew what was going on, the better. I couldn’t say that the sooner I knew what was going on, the sooner I could return to my life because my life was a lot worse. Being swept up in Vincent’s world made me forget about my own problems. And my world didn’t have Dylan in it. Or Vincent.

Relief flitted across his face and his shoulders relaxed. Those dark eyes of his focused on me, pinning me to one place. “We participate in amateur fights. It started as a thing between us and the Allbrooks, but it’s turned into a huge deal now. There’s a lot of money involved in the fights and everyone likes to play dirty.”

I slowly nodded, realizing that that’s what Conor had been talking about. He had said something about Vincent losing them money. “I don’t understand why he would come after me. I have nothing to do with this.”

Vincent’s jaw tensed. “I heard what he said. He saw us together and he thinks that you’re my girlfriend, that you mean something to me. He tried to use you to get to me.”

“But I don’t mean anything to you,” I choked out. “He’s got the wrong person.”

Vincent turned away from me, once again completely blocking me out. He had this way of showing his vulnerable side, but then just as quickly he would put his shield back up again.

Just then, Three ran back in, locking eyes with me. “Your sister’s here, but she refuses to come inside with me. She almost ran me over!”

Darting a glance at Vincent’s back, I slowly approached Three. “Sorry about that. She can get a little sassy.”

“I think she thought I was going to steal her car,” Three said as he began to follow me outside into the cold air. I immediately wished I was back inside the warmth of the auto shop and close to Vincent.

“I thought something similar when I first saw you.” My tone was light, but inside I felt heavy, like a weight was crushing my organs.

Savannah was parked on the side of the road several feet away. She was peering at us suspiciously over the steering wheel as though she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing.

When I turned to look behind me, Vincent wasn’t there.

I tried not to let it get to me that he hadn’t bothered to come out and see me. It just proved my assumption was correct; I meant nothing to Vincent.

Giving Three a small smile, I ducked into the car, trying to ignore the gnawing in my chest.

Chapter Twenty

Vincent

Last night I’d let Estella walk away from me without telling her how I really felt. Again.

I really needed to stop acting like such an asshole to her all the time.

The feeling had never hit me at such full force until the moment I’d heard Conor threaten her. And then my entire world had spun out of control and fear had gripped me by the throat and squeezed and squeezed until I thought I was never going to recover ever again.

If Estella wasn’t in my life, I knew I would never recover. It had just taken me a while to realize what she meant to me.

At first there’d been resistance on my part. I hadn’t wanted to let a woman into my life because women were manipulative and they screwed everything up. But Estella wasn’t like that. She was something entirely different. She was made up of something that I’d never had in my life before. And now it was impossible for me to let go of her.

She’d imprinted herself into my life; she was a constant and I needed her.

I needed her more than she could ever understand and I should’ve fucking told her that.

But I would tell her. I was going to tell her everything. I’d tell her how I felt and what she did to me, and maybe we could make sense of this craziness together. Because a lot of it wasn’t even making sense to me—how I could fall for a girl from another world.

But I had. That’s what was happening here. I had never felt such a strong desire to protect anyone, except for Dylan, but now I felt that way about Estella, and I was sure as hell going to make sure that no one came near her again.

“Are you sure you wanna do this, man?” Goat’s voice broke into my thoughts, and I looked around to find him staring at me. He actually looked worried. Hell, maybe I should be more worried about this, but I wasn’t.

We stood outside The Demon Rest which seemed like a fitting name for the shit ass, run-down bar that we were about to enter. I mean, Allbrook was a shithole by any standards, but The Demon Rest was definitely one of the worst places around these parts.

It was also where the Allbrook Gang hung out and a little birdie had told me that I’d find Conor here right now with only a couple of other guys with him. This was the perfect time to send him a clear message: don’t mess with the people I cared about.

But I knew why Goat was so worried. If I went in there and roughed Conor up, I’d be starting shit with the Allbrook Gang, and I was doing this without Ryder’s knowledge.

If Ryder found out this had something to do with Estella then he would lose it. It wasn’t just about her though—Dylan also had to be protected and the only way I could be sure that he’d be safe was to target the cause of the problem.

“I know what I’m doing,” I said, nodding at the other guys that’d come with me. “Let’s go and show them what it means to mess with a Madden.”

There was no more hesitation; there were no more questions. I had made up my mind and the guys would follow me regardless of how this played out.

I led the way, pushing open the door to the bar and letting the smell of despair hit me—cigarettes, booze, and sweat—this is where the lowest scumbags hung out, so it was pretty fitting for the Allbrook gang.

The bar was almost empty; there were the usual tables and stools scattered around, but the interior was pretty shitty. The scantily dressed girl wiping down tables eyed us up as we strode inside, but I barely glanced at her—my focus was simply on kicking Conor’s ass.

A dart board had been hoisted against the wall close to the entrance as though it was going to improve the depressing surroundings somehow. Nope, no chance in hell of that happening. There was a single pool table on the far end of the room, and my eyes immediately singled out Conor with three other guys as they hovered around the table, in the middle of a game.

Rage filtered through me when I saw how at ease he was; he didn’t have a single care for the fear he’d inflicted on Estella. This asshole was going to pay.

“Fancy seeing you down here,” I said, keeping my tone light as we flanked the four Allbrooks.

Conor flinched and their conversation died down as they all turned to face us. Fear darted across Conor’s face, but he quickly replaced it with an easy smile as though he was greeting old friends.

“Glad you could take time out from your busy schedule of hand holding to pay us a visit, Vincent. I’m touched.” Conor placed a hand to his chest, mocking me.

“Well, Conor,” I said, taking three steps forward so I was in his face, “the thing is, I don’t like it when the people close to me get hurt. It makes me real mad, ya know?”

The corner of Conor’s mouth lifted in a smirk. The son of a bitch was pleased with himself for getting to me through Estella. What a spineless, weak asshole.

“I was just trying to get to know the people in your life, Vincent. I mean, man, I’d love to get to know that piece of ass you’re screwing right now. Estella, right?”

As soon as her name came from his disgusting mouth, a white hot rage snaked its way through my body and coiled around my chest.

I grabbed Conor by the collar of his jacket, lifting him slightly off his feet. “Say her name one more time, asshole. I fucking dare you to.”

The fear was clear in Conor’s eyes as he stared back at me, but he was a ballsy son of a bitch; he had something to prove to the other Allbrooks and the only way he could do that was by standing up to me.

His bottom lip curled. “The more I think about it, the more I want to fuck Estella.”

My vision went blurry and the rage inside my chest exploded. He was going to pay for threatening Estella. He was going to pay for talking about her like that. I didn’t see reason, I didn’t think of the consequences; I wanted to show him what happened when he messed with the people I cared about.

I shoved Conor so hard that his back hit the pool table with a loud thud. The other Allbrooks reacted and rushed at us, but all I could see was Conor. His bravado was gone now—I could see it from the way his eyes darted left and right—but that didn’t mean I was going to let him off easy.

Someone’s fist connected with the side of my face, and I turned just in time to see Todd take on the Allbrook guy that’d punched me. My attention went back to Conor who suddenly leapt out at me and threw a couple of punches at me.

Only one punch connected with the side of my nose before I grabbed his fist, twisted it, and then punched him three times in the gut. Conor immediately doubled over, and I hit him in the face with my knee. My knee connected with his face and blood spurted everywhere.

Conor stumbled back, yelling out as he covered his face with both hands, trying to stop the blood from flowing. But it wouldn’t help. I’d gotten in a good hit.

My boys had easily overpowered the other three guys who were now sporting swollen faces. Todd had the guy who’d hit me in a headlock, and pushed him hard against the pool table before releasing him.

“Let’s call this a friendly warning,” I said, wiping a small trickle of blood from the side of my mouth. “Next time we won’t go so easy on you. Let’s get one thing clear; you touch her, you so much as look at her the wrong way, and I will destroy you. Tell that to Troy and the rest of your Allbrook pussies.”

From the way Conor and the other guys stared at us in silence, I was pretty sure my message had been received loud and clear.

* * *

I knew Estella would be at the house this afternoon. I’d told Three to pick her up and take her there for Dylan’s lesson. What had actually slipped my mind was the fact that I’d been punched in the face and probably looked like shit.

All I’d wanted to do was go home to Estella. I wanted to eat one of her meals and watch her dance and bring her warmth into my home.

I hadn’t expected Three and Estella to be waiting out on the porch with me as I rode up with Goat. As soon as I’d removed my helmet and gotten off the bike, Estella hurried down the steps and ran to me.

"What happened to your face?" She let out a gasp and clamped a hand over her mouth.

Even though I’d done this for her, I couldn’t look her in the eye because I knew she would hate me for it. Instead, I shook my head to discourage her from asking any questions.

I reached out for her. "Hold me, Stelle, just hold me. Hold me like it's our last day together, and tomorrow might not be."

Estella didn’t resist at first—she stepped into my arms and let me rest my head on her shoulder. She even ran a hand through my hair which made me grasp her by the waist a little tighter. But it didn’t last long, because just as quickly as she’d held me, she pushed me away.

Her eyes were fierce, the amber in them dancing like the glows cast from candlelight. It kind of scared me a little the way she was staring me down.

“What happened to you, Vincent?” she asked again—her tone was firmer this time and I knew she wasn’t messing around.

Hesitating, I ran my fingers over the skin of her hand before grasping it in mine. “It doesn’t matter, Stelle. I don’t want to talk about it.”

Instead of meeting her gaze, I focused on Three who had approached us and was now standing just behind Estella. For some reason, he didn’t look as happy as he should to see me.

“Well, I do.” Estella’s words were commanding, but I heard the slight quiver in her tone, as though she was afraid to know the truth. “I need to know that you haven’t done anything bad; that no one is hurt.”

“Well, that depends on your definition of hurt.”

“Vincent, this isn’t funny. I’m being serious; did you hurt someone?”

“He deserved it,” I say, pointedly looking away from her. “He had no right to put his hands on you.”

“Conor did this to you?” Her eyes searched mine, large and concerned.

“Yeah, but you should see what I did to him.”

From behind me, Goat let out a gruff “hmm” of approval.

Tears were forming in Estella’s eyes, and I couldn’t hide the wall of emotion that hit me at seeing her reaction.

“Vincent, this needs to stop. If you love and care about Dylan the way you say you do, you need to stop doing this. You can’t keep putting him in danger.” Her hand tightened around mine.

“I’m not putting him in danger.” My voice came out like a low growl. “I’m protecting him. I’m doing the best I can for him. I’m making sure I win these fights so he can go to a good school and have a future.”

“Don’t you understand? It’s not about sending him to private school or college. It’s about teaching him to be the best that he can be. And that starts with you.” She jabbed the center of my chest with a finger. “You need to set the example for him to become a better person. He’s had nothing but disappointment in his life. Don’t do this to him.”

I wanted to say that she was wrong; that I was setting a good example for him, but a part of me was telling me that Estella was right. Everything she was saying was making a scary amount of sense.

“I know you’re better than this. Don’t let your circumstances dictate the kind of person you turn out to be. You can make your own choices, Vincent. You can walk away from this.” There was desperation in her eyes as she spoke.

Each word she said lashed at me like a whip, leaving a mark, leaving an imprint. No one had ever gotten through to me the way Estella had. Ever.

Feeling winded, I pulled my hands away from her and turned to Goat, feeling light headed. “Take her home. Now.”

I couldn’t think straight. Why did Estella make me question every decision I made in my life? Why did I let her get to me?

Estella let out a cry of protest, but I ignored her and headed towards the creek, far away from Estella and the truth of her words.

Chapter Twenty-One

Estella

The buzzing in my ears refused to fade.

My stomach churned as I tried to piece together what had just happened. I hated it when Vincent and I got like this. I missed the sweet moments we had shared together.

I’d never been so worried about Vincent before. It honestly scared me to see his face swollen and bruised like that. From what I understood, he had beaten up Conor for threatening me. That act alone confused me.

Why would he beat someone up for me? He’d told me I meant nothing to him. He’d acted cold and indifferent towards me. His behavior made no sense at all. His reckless behavior was bad for Dylan, but it was also bad for him. I knew he had the ability to leave that life behind, but maybe it was too late for him.

“He’s not a bad guy.”

Goat’s voice broke into my thoughts, startling me. “I’m sorry?”

We’d just pulled up outside my house and I’d been too distracted by my thoughts to get off the bike, and Goat had finally decided to say something about it. I guess it didn’t take a genius to figure out what was troubling me.

“Vincent,” Goat repeated as I climbed of the bike. “He’s not a bad guy. He’s been through a lot of shit and he doesn’t know how to deal with things in any other way. You gotta understand that about him if you’re gonna be around him.”

I stared at Goat in surprise, letting his words slowly sink in. I’d never expected this big, hulk-like, tatted up guy to be so insightful.

“I do understand, but I wish he could learn to handle things differently. He goes on about wanting a better life for Dylan but I don’t think he realizes the effect his own actions have on the way Dylan is raised.”

“Give it time. People can change.”

Goat looked me right in the eyes, and I couldn’t help but nod in agreement. He was right. I had to give Vincent a chance. I had to have hope that he could change his life.

“Thanks for the talk, Goat.” And despite my aversion to tattooed guys and the Madden gang, I stepped forward and wrapped Goat up in a hug. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

Goat let out a gruff laugh and gunned the engine of the bike. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Bye,” I said with a smile, watching him pull out and speed off past the dilapidated houses on the street.

I turned to head inside and that’s when I caught sight of my brother’s car parked out the front of the house. That was strange. I didn’t know that Nate was going to be coming over.

Increasing my pace, I hurried up the steps and into the house. When I walked into the living room, Nate wasn’t there. Savannah sat by herself watching TV.

She glanced up when she heard me. “Hey.”

“Hey, is Nate here?”

“Nope.”

“Then why is his car here?”

“He left it for us.”

My mouth fell open. “He what?”

Savannah shifted around on the couch, tucking a leg underneath her. “Nate got a new car and gave us his old one to share. He picked me up in his new car this afternoon and I went and got the old one.”

Never in a million years had I ever expected my brother to give us his car. We were lucky to have a brother who cared about us that much.

“That’s awesome,” I said, because I was just so amazed that he would do that for us. “Where did he get the money for the new car?”

Savannah shrugged. “I don’t know. He told you to call him.”

That was strange. My brother worked part-time as a cashier at a grocery store, but I wasn’t sure how he’d been able to afford a new car. Maybe he’d been saving most of his money.

Pulling my phone out from my bag, I dialed Nathan’s number and waited for him to answer.

“Hey, Estee,” he said, answering on the third ring.

“Did you really give us your car?” I asked immediately.

Nathan chuckled on the other end. “Yeah, I got a new one so I figured you two could use my old car.”

“Really? Wow! Thank you so much!” The excitement was spreading through me at the thought of not having to rely on everyone else to drive me around. “How did you afford a new car?”

Nathan sighed. “I worked hard, Estee. We don’t have the best things in life, but I want to change that. I want to make sure that things get better from here on. I’m going to try to change our life around, I want you to know that.”

Tears stung my eyes at my brother’s words. I was lucky to have a brother who cared so much about us and was trying so hard to give us the life our parents had failed to. In a way he reminded me of Vincent—he was also trying to give Dylan the kind of life he deserved.

“I love you, Nate. Thank you for doing this for us.”

“I love you too. Don’t mess up my car or put girly stuff in there, okay?”

Despite my tears, I laughed. “Don’t count on it. I’ll have rose-scented air freshener and floral themed car seats in there tomorrow.”

He let out a groan. “I’m regretting this already.”

When I got off the phone, Savannah and I cooked dinner together like always and sat around watching TV. I wasn’t in a hurry to get my work done since it was a Friday night—I figured I could use this time trying not to think about a certain tattooed guy.

At about nine o’clock, Savannah left to hang out with her friends. I figured there was a guy involved since she was dressed up really nice, but I didn’t want to pry too much. Besides, she’d tell me when she was ready. I was glad that Savannah was going out and doing normal teenager stuff. She needed to escape from all the negative stuff that surrounded us at home.

I could go out too, but I wasn’t much of a party girl. Mariah was always trying to get me to go out to a field party with her, but I wouldn’t even know what to do at those things. Those parties seemed like the place to make out in and I wasn’t that kind of girl.

I’d just started watching an episode of The Big Bang Theory, when I heard loud knocking on the door that made me jump.

Oh no. Dad had been out drinking all day and I didn’t want to have to deal with him tonight. I should’ve just gone to bed a long time ago.

The pounding on the door grew louder, and I jumped off the couch and hurried to the front door, dreading what I would find.

When I pulled open the door, my heart stopped.

I definitely didn’t expect to find this.

Vincent was standing outside, swaying on one spot, his fist raised as though he was about to knock on the door again. When he caught sight of me, a goofy smile spread across his face.

Oh my gosh. He was completely drunk.

“Stelle, I need to talk to you.” He slurred his words as he spoke, and the overwhelming smell of whiskey hit me. “I should’ve told you this a long time ago.”

“Vincent, what-”

He staggered forward, pressing his hands into my shoulders. “I just-you make me feel so many things, Stelle.” He placed a hand to his chest. “I don’t know what to do about it. I can’t explain it. I think about you constantly. You need to know that.”

His eyes were glazed over as they searched mine, waiting for an answer. Finally, the shock faded and I found the ability to speak. Ignoring his drunken words, I took a step forward, searching the street outside and finding that Vincent’s bike was out front.

I shot him a look of disapproval. “You rode over here like this?”

Vincent gave me a half-shrug, placing an arm around my shoulder. “Did you hear me, Stelle? I’m trying to tell you how I feel about you.”

He didn’t know what he was saying. The alcohol was messing with his head and making him say things that he normally wouldn’t say, so I continued to ignore him as I placed a hand around his firm, muscular arm and dragged him down the stairs to Nate’s car—well, I guess it was my car now.

“I’m not listening to you right now. Not when you’re like this. Get in the car so I can take you home.”

I pulled open the passenger side door and waited for Vincent to get in. He didn’t complain—probably because he was too drunk to think of a reasonable argument—and stayed silent as he watched me walk around to the driver’s side.

“I really do have feelings for you, Stelle,” he said once I started up the car and began heading towards Penthill. “I don’t know what it is about you. Maybe it’s everything. Yeah, I think it’s just everything about you. You light up everything around you and all I want to do is be around that light all the time. I want to be around you.”

Vincent sounded sincere enough, but I’d dealt enough with drunken men in my life to know that you couldn’t believe everything they told you. I maintained a stony silence and focused on the road ahead. Vincent was quiet for a long while, and when I glanced over at him, he’d fallen asleep.

With a sigh, I let my thoughts cloud my mind. It wasn’t that I didn’t feel the same way about Vincent. It wasn’t that at all. But I wanted to hear these things from him when he was sober. And then there was a part of me that he knew nothing about and that I wasn’t ready to tell him about yet.

I realized that I had feelings for Vincent—very strong feelings—but he didn’t need me in his life. I came with too many problems of my own.

* * *

Vincent

If you really liked a girl, don’t be stupid and wait until you’re drunk to tell her how you felt.

I’d woken up to Estella shaking me and telling me that we were home, but all I knew was that I was a little drunk and I’d said stupid, cheesy shit to Estella that I probably wouldn’t normally say.

I guess I’d fallen asleep on the ride over here which was why a little of the alcohol had worn off. My head still felt hazy though, kind of like I was seeing the world through a tangled web.

My feet hit the ground and I staggered a little but managed to stay upright. Estella grabbed onto my arm and helped me up the front steps and through the door. I was trying to focus and pull my thoughts together, but all my mind was fixated on was how close Estella was to me and how desperately I wanted to kiss her.

“Are you gonna say anything?” I asked, pulling my arm from her and watching as she turned on the light in the hall.

“What do you want me to say, Vincent?” Estella’s voice was calm, but there was disappointment laced through it. “I’ve told you before that what you’re doing isn’t right. You need to stop this. If you really care about your brother, you have to change for him.”

“I do want to change for him!” I said, slamming the door shut so loud that the house shook. “What do you think I’ve been trying to do the last few weeks?”

Estella barely flinched as she stared me down. “I don’t know what you’ve been trying to do, Vincent! You’re so drunk right now; I don’t even know what to think!”

Something inside me snapped and I pushed her against the wall, locking her in with my arms. My heart was pumping in my head, and there was a surge in my chest and a thrill from being this close to her.

“Think this.” I brought my mouth close to hers. “I’m trying to change for Dylan. And I’m trying to change for you.”

“For me?” Disbelief flitted across her face. “You’ve been nothing but a complete jerk to me.”

“I don’t know how to act around you,” I admitted. “You’re different.”

“That’s your reasoning.” Anger rose in her voice. “I’m different so you ignore me and avoid me? You know what? I don’t want to hear this right now, Vincent. Maybe tell me all this when the alcohol’s not doing all the talking for you.”

Estella made a move to push me away, but I held my ground, pressing my hands into her cool skin. “I need you, Estella.” The words feel out of my mouth before I even knew I was saying them. “I need you to stay here with me.”

My eyes clashed with hers. There was something raging in hers, like a battle was playing out in her mind about her feelings for me and she didn’t want to let them win.

The surging in my chest rushed through my ears and filled up my head with a strange buzzing. Probably some of it was the alcohol screwing with me, but I knew most of it was the way I felt about Estella.

Yeah, I’d been a total jerk to her for most of the time I’d know her, but I didn’t know any other way. Women had been in and out of my life and screwed it up so completely that it was hard to let her in.

But I wanted to. Desperately. Because she made things better. She made me better. I was a better person for knowing her.

Now I just needed to convince her of that.

I paused, and Estella tensed, ready to bolt the minute I released her.  Then I lowered my voice and loosened my hold, gently massaging the place where I’d grabbed her. “Stay with me. Stay with me tonight. Don’t leave me.”

Estella was silent for so long that I was certain she was going to turn around and walk out of my house, leaving me forever. I couldn’t blame her if she did.

Instead, she nodded. “I’ll stay with you.”

Shock hit me hard in the chest. I hadn’t expected her to stay with me. I didn’t know what had made her agree to stay with me—maybe she just didn’t want to argue with a drunken idiot like me—or maybe a part of her was starting to admit that she had feelings for me. Either way, I wasn’t complaining whatever her reasons were.

“Come on.” I took her by the arm gently and led her down the hall, past Dylan’s room, to where mine was located right at the end.

This house wasn’t much to look at, but me and my brothers had done our best to fix it up over the years and had expanded it so that we had a lot more room. My room was one of the new rooms we’d built, and it stretched across almost half the back of the house with a window view of the trees that surrounded the creek.

I didn’t bother turning on the light; I just led Estella right to my bed and pulled back the covers, waiting for her to get in. She hesitated for a few seconds, but finally slid into the bed.

Taking a deep breath and telling my hormones to keep themselves under control, I slid in beside her and pulled the covers over us. It was a cold night and I could feel her shaking beside me, so I wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close.

When she didn’t fight me and relaxed against me, I let out a breath and planted a kiss on her forehead. We lay there in the silence, both of us wide awake, but neither of us saying anything. It was a comfortable silence; nothing needed to be said. We weren’t going to have sex; I just needed her with me.

It’d been a long time since I’d had a girl in my bed without having sex with her, but that’s not what I wanted to do with Estella right now. All I wanted was to be close to her, so she knew that, yeah, I was drunk; I was stupid, but I cared about her more than she could understand.

Finally, when the silence became too much for me, I spoke. “I meant everything I said tonight.”

“I know.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Estella

Even though Vincent and I hadn’t had sex last night, I felt like I was doing the walk of shame when I left his bedroom the next morning and walked to the kitchen.

If you asked me why I’d decided to stay the night with him and sleep in the same bed, I honestly couldn’t tell you. Maybe it was because I did have strong feelings for him, or maybe it was because he had sounded completely genuine about everything he’d said to me last.

Whatever my reasons were, I’d made my choice. I’d chosen to stay with him. And you know what? I’d actually liked it. I’d liked being close to him and holding him, and running my fingers over the taut muscles of his stomach.

I’d liked that he hadn’t tried to make a move on me even though he’d been drunk and could easily overpower me. Most of all, I liked that I could trust him.

The delicious smell of bacon and eggs frying wafted in from the kitchen, and when I stepped inside, I found Vincent and Dylan standing at the stove.

“Um, good morning,” I said, suddenly feeling shy.

Both Vincent and Dylan turned around, and Dylan ran to me and hugged me so tight that my ribs started to hurt.

“Estella! Vin’s cooking up breakfast for us!”

My eyes locked with Vincent’s. His expression was serious as he watched me before turning back to the stove and continuing with his cooking.

“Oh, wow,” I said, not really what to make of Vincent cooking. I didn’t even know he could cook. “Iguess I'm rubbing off on you, huh? Well, I'm pretty hungry so I'mexcited to try Vincent's cooking."

Dylan beamed. “Let me get you a plate.”

He bounded off and started rummaging around in the cupboard. Vincent turned around again and took the pan off the stove and advanced towards me.

“Sit down, darlin’.”

Sill surprised that Vincent had cooked breakfast, I took a seat at the table unsure of how to act around him. Was he still the same guy from last night who'd confessed his feelings for me, or was he someone completely different? Sometimes with Vincent you never knew what you were going to get.

Dylan set the table and sat down across from me, and Vincent walked over with the frying pan and filled my plate with eggs and bacon. There was way too much food for me on the plate, but it smelled delicious.

Vincent sat down across from me and gave me the smallest smile. "Eat up, Stelle."

I didn't want to offend him so I dug into the eggs. They were a little under cooked so I took a bite of bacon instead. It was difficult to bite into so I put it back on the plate and stared around at the table.

There was an awkward silence as we all looked at each other before Dylan burst inti laughter.

“Hey, if it’s that bad, just say it.” Vincent said, scowling back at us.

“It’s really bad,” I blurted out.

“You try and do something nice for someone but no one appreciates it.” Despite the scowl on his face, Vincent’s tone was light and it was pretty clear that he wasn’t actually annoyed. He ate a forkful of eggs and made a face. “Okay, fine, it does taste bad.”

The entire situation got to me and I also started laughing. Vincent tried to glare at me, but as soon as he made eye contact, he burst into laughter too.

“Do we have to eat this?” Dylan asked, picking at his eggs with his fork.

“No, Kid, you don’t have to.” Vincent reached over and tousled his hair. “Why don’t you go eat some cereal? I need to talk to Estella for a sec.”

“Okay, sure.” Dylan pushed his chair back and stood up, and was just about to walk across the kitchen when he stopped and fixed me with a strange look. “Hey, why is Estella here so early?”

My cheeks immediately flamed at Dylan’s innocent question and my eyes darted to Vincent for help.

“She brought me home last night and fell asleep here.” Vincent didn’t miss a beat.

“Oh, okay.” Dylan shrugged and proceeded to the cupboard.

I didn’t know why I hadn’t said that instead of feeling all awkward about it. I guess a part of me felt like something more had happened between Vincent and me, even though it hadn’t.

Vincent stood up and I followed him out onto the porch. We were silent for a few minutes before Vincent finally spoke.

“I’m sorry for putting you in that position last night.” He paused. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately. I’ve thought about the things you’ve said to me. I’ve thought about the choices I’ve made and what I can do differently.”

He turned his obsidian eyes on me, and it was like they were on fire. “I want to change for you. I need you to know that I can be a better person. I remember everything I said to you last night and I meant every single word. I want you to know that.”

My voice was soft when I spoke. “I believe you.”

I reached out and touched his face, his mouth, his forehead. Our eyes drank each other in and I suddenly felt as though the final obstacle between us had been overthrown. Whatever walls had been built up between us were now gone.

Vincent was someone I could trust. He was a friend.

* * *

When Vincent pulled up outside my house, my heart sank. Seth’s BMW was parked out front.

I knew he’d come over to see Savannah, but honestly, I didn’t want him to see me with Vincent. He wouldn’t like that I was hanging out with a guy like Vincent. I mean, it had nothing to do with him who I spent my time with, but I just knew that this was not going to play out well.

“Whose car is that?” Vincent asked, a protective edge in his voice as we both got out of the car.

There really wasn’t any way to avoid the confrontation that was coming. I could already sense that Seth and Vincent would not warm to each other.

The front door opened and Seth and Savannah stepped outside. Savannah waved at me. “I thought I heard you pull up!” She raised her eyebrows in question at Vincent but said nothing.

Seth, on the other hand, looked mad as we all met halfway. There was an awkward silence in which Seth—dressed in a crisp, clean suit—and Vincent—dressed in his usual leather jacket and jeans—eyed each other up.

Seth’s bottom lip curled and he looked revolted. “Who the hell is this, Estella? You stay out all night with guys like this? Where were you?”

Before I could open my mouth, Vincent took a step forward.  “I’m Vincent Madden. Who the fuck are you?”

Seth looked like he’d been slapped across the face. I guess no one had ever spoken to him like that before. We Markson kids were always polite and well-mannered. Vincent was from another world.

“I’m Estella’s cousin.” Seth straightened up and puffed out his chest like a rooster on display. In comparison to Vincent, there was nothing impressive about him.

Vincent snickered and he had that smirk playing around his mouth whenever he was feeling particularly smug or confident about something. He turned to me and lowered his voice.

“Dylan told me it’s your birthday tomorrow. I want you to come by the house at six.” He eyes flickered over to Seth. “If that’s okay with your cousin.”

Seth’s face turned red and he looked like he was about to say something nasty to Vincent but then thought better of it.

“My cousin doesn’t own me,” I said, fixing Seth with a fierce look.

“Good. As long as he knows that.” Vincent ran a hand through my hair and inclined his head at Seth before leaving.

I didn’t even bother acknowledging Seth further, and hurried past him and into the house, wondering what Vincent had planned for me.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Vincent

“Vincent, I can’t see anything!” Estella cried, waving her arm in front of her as she tried to feel for anything that was in her way.

She was blindfolded and I had her other arm linked through mine, guiding her down the path to the creek.

“It’s just a little further,” I said into her ear, smiling at the way goosebumps popped up on her neck.

When we finally reached the clearing in front of the dock, I took of Estella’s blindfold and waited for her to react.

Her eyes grew wide and she clamped a hand over her mouth, staring at me like she wasn’t sure what to say. “I-you-oh my gosh! You did this for me?”

I nodded, placing a hand on her lower back. “Yeah, I knew you liked the creek so I got Dil to help me out a little.”

Estella’s eyes wandered over the lanterns in the trees, to the fairy lights wrapped around the tree branches, and then to the table set up just in front of the dock. There was a picnic basket on it with some bread and cheese and chicken that I’d bought pre-cooked—nothing fancy, but I hoped it was the gesture that counted.

Estella’s face was glowing when she turned to me. “This is amazing! I can’t believe you did all this! No one’s ever done anything like this for me before.”

“I hope you like it,” I said, leading her to the table and pulling out her chair for her.

Once she was seated, all I could do was stare at her. Estella was goddamn beautiful and here she was looking at me like I was the most amazing person she’d ever laid eyes on.

And there was a smile on her face—a genuine smile that I’d given her, not that fake shit she was always putting on.

I served her up a plateful of food and she eyed it warily before accepting it.

“Don’t worry,” I said with a laugh. “I didn’t cook it this time.”

“I liked that you cooked for me,” Estella said as she chewed on a piece of chicken. “Even though I’ve tasted better food from an eight-year-old.”

“Ouch, that hurts my feelings.”

Estella laughed, tilting her head to the side so that her honey brown locks flowed over her shoulders. She was so beautiful and I couldn’t take my eyes off her. She was everything I needed. Nothing else mattered anymore.

“I’m glad that you’re trying to change, Vincent. It gives me hope.”

I reached across and took her hand in mine. “I’m trying to change for you. I want you to see that I can be a better person. I want you to proud of me instead of being disappointed all the time.”

“Yes, but you being in this gang, you fighting, those are things that aren’t right. You can’t use violence and intimidation to solve all your problems.”

I squeezed her hand. “I’m leaving all that behind, Stelle. I’m giving all that up for you, for Dylan. I want us to have a life together because there is no way I could picture you not being in my life. I want you, all of you, and I’m giving it all up for you.”

“What about the fight that’s coming up?”

“I told Ryder I wasn’t going to do it. I told him I quit.”

Estella’s expression completely changed and her mouth fell open as she pulled her hand free from my grasp. She stood up from her seat and shook her head, backing away from me slowly at the same time.

Suddenly it felt like a crushing weight had descended into my chest at the look in her eyes. I’d been sure Estella felt the same way about me, but now I wasn’t even sure.

“Vincent, I don’t know how to do this with you.”

Her words cut into me like broken glass. I struggled to piece together what she was saying, but none of this was making much sense to me. As different as we were, we were right for each other. We didn’t make sense on paper, but we made sense on some other level. It was a level that only we could understand. So why was she pushing me away?

“You don’t realize someone was missing from your life until the moment they enter it. You were missing, Estella. Something brought us together, and I’m not going to let go. Push me away if you want. Deny that there’s anything between us. But listen to what I’m saying; I refuse to let you go. You can’t make me let go because you’re the only thing left for me to hold onto.”

Estella’s bottom lip quivered and I’d never seen her look so sad before.

“I’m a shell Vincent—empty, lifeless, dead. There’s nothing left inside of me to love.”

* * *

Estella

Vincent seized me by the shoulders, pulling me close to him so that I was faced with his dark eyes that seemed to be burning into me with each second that passed.

“Yes, there is, Estella. There’s a lot left inside of you to love. I see it in the way you put others before yourself. I see it in the way you take care of everyone. I see it in the way you look at me.” Vincent placed a hand on the center of my chest. “There is so much inside of you for me to love, but you have to love yourself first. You have to believe that you’re worth it, the way I know you are.”

His words were reassuring, but a part of me didn’t know what to believe.

“Don’t you understand? I’m dead. I died two-and-a-half years ago. I had to die so I wouldn’t keep reliving what he was doing to me. I didn’t want to stay alive anymore, so I killed a part of myself.”

Vincent took my hands in his, brushing his lips against my skin in a soft kiss. “Then let me bring you back to life.”

His words had me shaking all over. I didn’t want to feel this way, yet at the same time I did. I loved the way he made me feel. Everything was so confusing. Why couldn’t I just give into my feelings?

Without really thinking about what I was doing, I started to turn away.

“Don’t go, Stelle.”

If Vincent’s voice wasn’t enough to glue me to one spot, those eyes definitely were. They were so full of lust and desperation that I had to turn my head away. My legs still refused to budge—they were so immobilized by him that I was pretty sure my feet had grown roots and were absorbing nutrients from the sidewalk.

“Stelle?” Vincent asked, his voice uncertain.

I sighed into the night air, wishing I was a stronger human being, wishing I had the guts to pull away from him. “I’m still here, aren’t I?”

Even though I wasn’t looking at him, I knew as soon as he took a step towards me because my body went into some weird sense of hyper-awareness. The tiny hairs on my arms were standing straight up and every nerve in my body was reaching out, wanting to be closer to the source that was making me feel this way.

Vincent. I wanted Vincent.

And then he was in front of me, and those eyes burned into me like coals. And, still, I didn’t move. I couldn’t bring myself to move away from him. He was all wrong for me. He wasn’t the kind of guy you spent the rest of your life with. But then why wasn’t I running in the opposite direction?

“Say it.” Vincent’s voice was low as he ducked his head down to meet me; those lips of his were like a cruel taunt. “I want you to say it.”

What was I supposed to say? I couldn’t even form words, so I did some weird half-shrug thing. Wow. The hottest guy to walk this town was inches away from me and all I could manage was some lackluster gesture. I was too pathetic for words.

Vincent let out a low growl that sent shivers shooting across my skin. “I told you, I won’t lay a hand on you until you tell me to, Stelle.” Vincent’s eyes were hooded, dark with lust. The look in his eyes made me weak and I felt my pulse speed up. He leaned in, his mouth close to mine. “And I really want you to.”

I lowered my mouth to his. “I want you.”

And then without warning, our bodies were one. Vincent’s hands were everywhere. We were the same person. He was kissing me everywhere and every part of me was alive.

Vincent was bringing me back to life.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Estella

There were things Vincent needed to know about me—things that I couldn’t even begin to explain about myself and my life.

I wanted him to know about that dark part of me, but I didn’t want to scare him away. I didn’t want him to look at me differently; I wanted to be the same person but for him to have a better understanding of who I was.

Pressing my eyes shut, I started to speak, the words flowing from my mouth as though they had wanted to escape for many years now.

* * *

Two and a half years ago

The first night it happened, it had been a pretty ordinary night.

It’d been a month after Mom had left home, and it’d been the first time we’d really had a proper family dinner.

Seth had just landed his real estate job and had wanted to celebrate with us, so he’d brought over some groceries—and his new girlfriend, Mandy—and I’d cooked dinner. Dad didn’t engage much in the conversation, but at least he’d made an effort to look somewhat presentable. I think Seth had had a good talking to with him and gotten through to him.

Afterwards, we cleared some space in the living room and played Twister for an hour or so while Dad watched. Dad did a lot of that lately. He especially watched Savannah and me with this wistful look on his face.

By the time we finished playing, Seth and Mandy got into some sort of disagreement, and she stormed outside with Seth on her heels. Since I was tired, I headed to my room and climbed into bed.

Since my room was at the front of the house, I could hear Seth and Mandy’s raised voices as they fought in his car, but couldn’t quite make out their words. Eventually, even their voices weren’t enough to keep me away, and I drifted into an uneasy sleep.

I jolted awake when the bed shifted.

There was a figure climbing into my bed, and covering my mouth with a hand at the same time. Fear jolted through me, and I let out a scream that was muffled by the hand over my mouth.

He climbed on top me, placing both legs on either side of me, and lowered his lips to my ear. “Listen to me carefully.” The strong scene of alcohol invaded my nostrils. “I want you to be the good, little girl that you are. I want to take my hand off your mouth, but I can’t do that if you’re going to scream, okay? If you scream, I’m going to go into your sister’s room, and I know you don’t want that, do you?”

Panic set in, and I shook my head furiously. I did not want him going into Savannah’s room. I had to protect her.

“Good.” He sounded satisfied at my compliance. “I’m going to take my hand away now, and I want you to be good. Remember, otherwise I’ll have to play with Anna.”

I nodded again to show him that I understood, and he slowly took his hand off my mouth. When I didn’t scream, he lowered his mouth to my ear. “You are such a good girl, Estella. I’ve been watching you all night, thinking of a way to show you how much I love you.”

The panic was still there, but now it had shifted to me instead. I had never imagined that I would ever be in a situation like this. Things like this only happened in movies; they couldn’t possibly happen to girls like me who did well in school and didn’t drink or do drugs or hang out with boys.

There was no way it could be happening to me.

He shoved the quilt aside and pulled down my pajama pants, tossing them aside. He fingered the fabric of my panties, letting out a sigh at the same time. “You have no idea how desperately I want to be inside you, Estella. You are so beautiful.”

Even though it was hard to make out his features in the darkness, I stared up at him desperately. “Please,” I begged, “don’t do this. You’re better than this. You’re a good person.”

He pinned me down hard, pressing into me as he tore my panties off. “I’m not a good person, Estella. That’s why she left me. But you can make me better. Make me good again.”

A scream caught in my throat as he pushed deep inside me, but I remembered to stay quiet. If I screamed, he would do this to Savannah, and there was no way I would let him ruin her life.

He paused when he met some resistance, and when he spoke, I could sense the smile in his voice. “I’m your first, baby? You have no idea how happy that makes me. Now, I’m going to make you happy.”

No, no, no. My first time wasn’t supposed to be like this. I was saving myself for someone special. I was saving myself for someone I was in love with. My first time wasn’t supposed to be like this.

“Please,” I pleaded, as he began pushing in and out of me, “stop, please.”

But he didn’t stop. He kept going. He fingered my hair and kissed my neck, and he didn’t pull out until he ejaculated inside me.

As he got off me and pulled his pants back on, his final words haunted me. “Keep me happy, Estella, the way your mother used to. Don’t tell anyone about this or I’ll have to get Savannah to keep me happy.”

Then he was gone.

* * *

Two years ago

Seth and I never talked about what he did to me. When other people were around, he acted like he hadn’t violated me like that. I was scared to be alone with him, but I was also scared of what he might do to Anna. I knew that I had to get him to stop what he was doing to me.

One day something inside me snapped. I couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t take feeling dirty, and wrong, and weak, and disgusted with myself. One day, before he led me into my room, I pushed him away.

Seth stared at me in surprise. He’d been so used to getting what he wanted from me that he couldn’t believe that I wasn’t doing what he wanted me to.

“Estella, what’s going on?”

“No.” My voice shook as I rolled up the sleeve of my sweater.

Forgetwas written on it in black permanent marker.

Seth’s eyes shot down to my arm and then back to my face. “What are you doing, Estella? Think carefully before you do something stupid.”

I spit on my arm and began rubbing on the spot where ‘forget’ was written. The marker began to fade away and slowly the letters beneath it began to reveal themselves:

Seth

I was scarred. I was disfigured. I was forever ruined. Seth had branded himself on me and I could never escape what he’d done to me. I kept my arm hidden from everyone because I hated that part of me. I hated the tattoo that he had made me get a few months ago. I hated that I had been weak and unable to stand up for myself.

I refused to let this continue. I would not be a scared, little girl forever. I would be strong. I would be strong for the family that I had to hold together.

“I’ve been weak for too many months.” I looked him right in the eye as I spoke. “You cannot touch me. You cannot have me. I am not yours.”

I thrust my arm out at Seth and watched the gleam shoot through them as he admired the brand he had given me. He was such a sick person. “This does not mean you own me. You can’t make someone love you or want to be with you. What you did to me was not love; it was rape. You raped me physically and mentally and emotionally. You left me with a scar that I can’t erase. You made me weak. But you know what? Sometimes you have to be at your weakest to find your strength.”

Seth took a step back and it made me happy that he was the one who was worried now. “You’re making a huge mistake.”

“No, you are.” I tried to keep my voice strong. “You made a huge mistake when you violated me. You made a huge mistake when you ruined me for every guy out there. Stay away from me, Seth. Never touch me again. Never threaten Savannah’s safety or you’ll regret it. I will tell everyone what you did. You’ll go to prison.”

Seth’s eyes widened and all of a sudden, he looked like a sad, pathetic man as his entire expression changed from a tough guy to someone who was completely messed up. “Don’t do that, Estella, don’t tell anyone.” And that’s when his bottom lip began trembling and he wrapped his arms around himself as he began to shake. “She did that to me. Your mom. She did the same thing to me. I didn’t know anything else.”

I couldn’t believe what he was saying to me. My mother had hurt him? That couldn’t be true. He was doing this to me because of what mom had done? That was impossible.

Seth continued to speak, his words falling from his mouth at high speed. “She started when I was a little boy, but stopped once I hit twelve. But then when I was sixteen, we started having a relationship with each other. She told me not to tell anyone, and I didn’t. When she left, I didn’t know what to do.”

The accusations from him were appalling; disgusting. There was no way my mother could do that to him. “I don’t believe you.”

Seth gave me a sad smile as he began to turn away. “Believe what you want, Estella. I’m telling the truth.”

Tears were squeezing their way from my eyes. “And even if she had done that to you, why would you do the same thing to me, Seth? Why would you ruin my life?” I was shaking all over uncontrollably.

“Because that’s all I knew. Because I was trying to forget.”

And as Seth walked out the door that was the last he ever tried to touch me again.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Vincent

My body was shaking.

I couldn’t believe what Estella was telling me.

That sick, perverted asshole was going to pay for doing that to her. I would make sure Seth died tonight. That was the only way the anger was going to leave my body. That was the only way to make this right.

“I’m going to kill him,” I managed to say.

Estella’s eyes widened and she reached out for me. “No,Vincent! You can’t do that. You just told me that you wouldn’t fight. You need to keep that promise.”

“Not when it comes to this.” I pulled away from her. “Not this, Stelle. Don’t ask me not to do this. I need to make sure this asshole dies.”

“Vincent, stop it.” Estella’s tone was firm. “This happened years ago. It’s not something that needs to be dredged up again. Yes, what he did was wrong. Yes, he ruined my life. But I also know that he has changed. He has a fiancé, he has a baby, and he’s spent the last two years trying to make it up to me. I don’t want anything to do with him, but he keeps coming back. Guilt weighs heavily on his mind constantly. I know it does.”

I pressed my lips together. It didn’t matter if he felt guilty; what he’d done was the worst thing you could do to someone who loved and trusted you. He was a sick freak.

“Promise me,” Estella was saying, “promise me you won’t do anything to him.”

I wouldn’t be doing anything, but that didn’t mean that one of the boys wouldn’t be doing anything either. This was something that definitely needed a follow up, and Seth was definitely going to be getting a visit from Goat, or from one of our police buddies. There was no way Seth was going to get away with this, but there were some things that Estella didn’t need to know.

That girl was too sweet for her own good. That was why I loved her so much. I needed her goodness to stay with me always.

I nodded in response and Estella frowned at me. “Promise me you won’t fight anymore, Vincent. I need to know that you won’t hurt anyone anymore; that you won’t become like Ryder.”

Her words hit a soft spot, and I pulled her in so close that our foreheads touched.

"The first night I met you, you talked about choices. You told me that I chose this life for myself. What you didn't know was that my whole life has been someone else's choice. I've never made a choice of my own, but that changes today. Today I'm walking away from other people's choices. Today, I choose you, Estella Markson."

“And you’re leaving that life behind?”

“Forever. From now on the only thing that matters is you. I want to make you happy. I want you to forget about what happened to you. I want you in my life and I will do anything to keep you in it.”

Estella let out a long breath, her eyes sad. “I’ve always wanted to forget, but it’s so hard. All I know is disappointment. I’ve been disappointed by everyone close to me for the last two years. But you make things easier. You and Dylan make my life better. I tried so hard to fight it, to fight you, but whenever you’re not with me, I can’t handle it.”

I wrapped an arm around the small of Estella’s back and kissed her hard on her pink lips. When I pulled away, her face was glowing, and I drank in the warmth from her whiskey eyes—the same eyes that had captivated me weeks ago.

“One day all the bad memories will fade and the only thing that will be left is you and I. I will always be here, Estella Markson, and I’ll never let you down.”

Epilogue

Estella

My skin was red, and raw, and pink.

The needle was biting into my arm, but I did my best to ignore it. The pain was only going to be temporary and it would be worth it.

Vincent stood behind me, silent and composed. He was the steadying presence in my life. He didn’t take his eyes off me once. Just having him here with me made me feel more sure about the decisions I was making.

We were making choices together and they were our own.

The tattoo artist stepped back and placed the needle down. “What do you think?”

“Take a look, Stelle.” There was a smile playing on the edge of Vincent’s full lips.

Taking a deep breath, I lowered my heard to the inflamed area of my skin, not sure what to expect.

What I saw made me take a sharp intake of breath.

Seth was gone from my arm and in its place Forget was written in a fancy cursive font. Just that tiny change made me feel like a different person. I felt stronger with Vincent by my side. I felt like we could deal with all the world’s problems together.

Vincent was my rock and I was the one that held him together. We still had a lot of things to figure out, but the one thing we knew was that we were breaking away from the past that had continued to haunt us.

I finally felt like a whole person. Vincent was the one who helped me escape and took me away from the harsh reality of things. Now, I was complete.

Now, I could finally move on. I could leave that chapter of my life behind forever.

Now, I could finally forget.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Some days, I just sit here and cry. Which sounds totally morbid, I know. You’re probably thinking, “What’s wrong with this psycho? Why is she always crying?” See, the thing is, I’m not much of a crier—I know it’s hard to believe—and I never have been. But you guys sure know how to make me cry.

Someone made a quiz for Falling for Hadie on Goodreads—I cried. Someone told me about getting a tattoo of a quote from my book—I cried. Someone told me a very sad and personal story—I cried. See, I’m doing all this crying because you guys are letting me into your lives. I always wanted to be able to touch people with my books, and now that it’s actually happening, I cry.

My readers are amazing. They share personal stories with me; they send me videos and pictures that they think I’ll like; they talk to me about their day; they tell me about their family and friends. My readers motivate me so much to get my books written.

Then there are the people who speak to me day in and day out and check up on me just to make sure I’m coping. I don’t know what my life was like before you guys were in it. Thank you Erica Cope, Eden Crane, Ren White, Michelle Flick, Sarah Hayden Davey, Ren White, Samantha Durante, and Autumn Doughton. I can’t begin to describe what it means to me to have you all in my life.

Thank you to my cover designer, Eden Crane, for designing not one but two amazing covers for Wrong Side of Town. You are so talented and amazing! I’m sorry for the countless hours I spent distracting you from your work.

And, because Erica Cope is such an important part of my life, I have to thank her again. Thank you for being such a great friend to me. You put up with my craziness and my ability to say the weirdest things without reason. I hold all our conversations—you falling asleep on the keyboard; squealing incoherently over random things; discussing book boyfriends—in the highest regard. And, in keeping with the theme, yes, Erica has also made me cry this year.

To the bloggers who continue to support my work; especially Peggy Warren from Le’Book Squirrel, Jodie O’Brien from Fab Fun and Tantalizing Reads, Melanie Lowery from Sassy Mum’s Book Blog, and Ashley Torres from Happily Ever Book Hungover. Thank you to everyone who reads, reviews, fan girls, and recommends my books.

Finally, Estella and Vincent: what a crazy journey you both took me on! This was a tough story to write, but Estella and Vincent’s voices rang so loud and clear in my mind that I had to tell it their way. To all the readers, thank you for sharing this journey with us.