 
EVEN

## Remington's Tower

### Katharine Sadler

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2016 by Katharine Sadler

All Rights Reserved.

### CHAPTER ONE

"There you go, sis, that's the last one." Byron dropped a box, clearly labeled fragile, on the linoleum floor with a crash and a tinkle. He winced at the sound, then gave me a smile so wide and pretty, I swear his white teeth glinted. Even at just-turned-twenty-one, Byron believed his charm could get him out of any trouble he got into, and into every sort of trouble he wanted to get into.

"Thanks," I said. I surveyed the small dorm room, with its two twin beds, two desks with wooden chairs, and two closets. One side of the room was empty, the other was stacked with my three boxes and two duffel bags of stuff. After a long drive to campus and a lifetime of no social life, the last thing I felt like doing was staying in that room and unpacking. I grabbed my football from the top box and tossed it to Byron. "Wanna show me the campus and throw the ball around a little?"

He grinned and pitched the ball back. "Some other time, Remington. I've got frat stuff to do. You should come over tonight, and I'll introduce you to the guys."

By introduce, he meant let them all know I was strictly off-limits. Still, it was the only invitation I'd gotten, and I wasn't about to waste my first night of freedom sitting on my rear in my dorm room. "Yeah, sure. I'll be there."

A girl, with thick, dark curls that cascaded to her waist and a curvy body covered in a daffodil yellow sundress, walked into the room. An older man followed her with a huge box that seemed to stagger him a bit.

"Invite your new friend," Byron said, before he took the box from the older man, set it on the floor, and vanished.

"Hi," I said. "I'm Remy. You must be Francesca." I had been looking forward to move-in day at Maple Ridge University for so long, I'd probably read the letter Francesca sent me to introduce herself as my new roommate at least six-hundred times. I wasn't sure we had much in common, but I was determined to like her.

"Call me Frankie, please." She stuck her hand out. I shook it and puzzled through what she'd just said. She'd spoken so fast, it sounded like CallmeFrankieplease. "This is my dad," she said, just as quickly. Her father, a tall, narrow man with grey hair, wearing pressed slacks and a Maple Ridge University sweatshirt, shook my hand without a word and left, for more boxes I assumed.

I plopped down on my bed and watched as Frankie unpacked the box Byron had placed on the floor. Like a modern day Mary Poppins, she pulled out exactly what she needed in the exact order she needed it. She made her bed, hospital corners and all, and placed a flowery, pink duvet on top. I wondered if I could convince her to make my bed, too.

It's not that I wasn't capable of making my own bed or that I didn't know how. I'd gotten into college, I could figure out how to make a bed. It's just that I only ever made my bed when I had new clean sheets to put on it, and I never bothered getting it to look as cozy as Frankie's bed looked. Of course, that probably had a lot to do with the fact that my sheets were grey flannel and I'd inherited the blue, plaid bedspread when my oldest cousin, Keats, had gone off to college. And I only had one pillow. Frankie had mounds of pillows that made her bed look more like a lounge than a place to sleep.

Growing up with four older cousins and an uncle, all of whom treated me like one of the guys, I hadn't had much exposure to feminine or frou-frou décor. And I had to admit, as much as I might die before I'd admit it to my cousins, I really liked what she had going on. It looked homey and cozy and just made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. I had some serious bed envy. I was already contemplating getting really drunk, for the first time in my life, and crashing on her bed "by mistake," just to find out firsthand how comfy it was. Surely she wouldn't kick a helpless drunk girl out of her bed. If I was drunk, though, I probably wouldn't be able to fully appreciate that bed. And I probably wouldn't remember it if I did. I studied the bed, considering how far I'd go to try it out.

Frankie met my gaze, and I realized I'd been staring, probably with lust in my eyes. I gave her a smile which I hoped didn't appear lascivious, and realized her side of the room was unpacked and perfect. The girl loved flowers and pastel colors, but she also had a definite eye for decorating. I felt sorry that she'd gotten stuck with me for her roommate, I was totally going to crinkle her vibe. Yes, I made that phrase up, see above where I explained I was the product of a sheltered life. I grew up in the mountains and rarely, okay never, left my uncle's property. The only people I associated with who were remotely close to being in my age bracket were my cousins, the youngest of whom is Byron, who's only five months older than me,

"Would you like some help unpacking?" Frankie said, her voice still fast and a bit breathless, like she was nervous. I hoped I hadn't made her nervous. She probably sensed my covetous bed thoughts.

I should have been the one who was nervous, since I'd never been out in the real world before, but I was bubbling with an energy and a desire to see everything that was choking me a bit and making it hard to breath. "Your bed looks really comfortable. Do you mind if I...?" I gestured to the bed, eyebrows raised in question and surprise at my own audacity. I had a bad habit of saying whatever was on my mind.

My strange request seemed to relax Frankie and she smiled. "Sure. The mattress is what makes the bed, but you're welcome to try out my pillows," she said, speaking at a normal pace. She had a lovely voice, delicate but a bit raspy. "It probably seems silly to have so many pillows, but I usually study on my bed and the pillows help."

I leapt to my feet and settled on her bed, sighing in amazement. The standard-issue dorm mattress left a lot to be desired, but that pile of pillows was heavenly and the duvet was so soft I felt like I'd landed in a cloud. "This is amazing."

I looked over at her, where she was leaning against the doorframe, watching me. I expected her to look at me like I was crazy, but her expression was more one of surprise and delight and...wonder?

I stood. "I'm not really in the mood to unpack," I said. "Why don't we go meet the rest of our suitemates?"

Frankie's brow crinkled. "Um, okay." Her expression shifted to concern, and I thought I began to understand something about her. My cousin, Tennyson, was shy and he'd told me what it was like to feel that way, to want to talk to people and find himself unable to do so. Never getting to leave our land, I'd begged all of my cousins for stories of the world beyond it and they'd usually been happy to oblige me. Of course, I read books and watched television and movies, but none of that compared to their stories of the real world.

I stopped my forward momentum, did my best to tamp down my raging need to experience life, and considered her feelings. "Is there something else you'd rather do?"

Something like shock dawned on her face. "Um, well, no. No. Of course not."

She was a terrible liar, like my cousin, Barrett, who always lost at poker because he couldn't bluff to save his life. All of my cousins were named after poets, Lord Byron, Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Lord Alfred Tennyson, and John Keats were there namesakes. My aunt loved poetry, and she'd named her sons after her favorites. My uncle said she'd had big dreams and had wanted to see the world, and poetry was a way for her to escape. Eventually, she escaped in a more final way, but that was before I went to live with my uncle. "It's okay if you'd rather do something else. I'm up for just about anything."

She dropped her eyes to the floor. "Whereareyougoingtosleep?" She spoke so fast I only caught the word sleep.

"You want to sleep?"

She blushed a bright red, but she met my gaze, the determination in her eyes making her look different, fierce and sure of herself. "No, I don't want to sleep," she said, obviously forcing herself to slow her speech. "Don't you want to make your bed? So, you'll have somewhere to sleep tonight?"

I glanced at my bed and shrugged. She had a point. "The trouble is. I have no idea which box the sheets and bedspread are in. I don't want to spend the afternoon stuck in here looking for them."

"I can help you," she said, her voice as soft as a mountain breeze. "You only have three boxes."

It seemed like she really wanted to help me, and I could definitely use the help. "Okay," I said. "I'd appreciate that."

Frankie pulled a notebook and a pen from her desk. She opened the notebook, cracking the spine and sighing a bit when she did, and wrote _Remington's boxes_ on top of the first page.

"Remy," I said. No one called me Remington, except my uncle and my cousins. Okay, so everyone I knew called me Remington, but I wanted to be Remy at college. I wanted a new name to go with my new life.

"Hmmm?" she said, like she didn't understand, but she didn't even look at me as she took a box cutter from her desk drawer and ripped into my first box. Passive she might be, but I wasn't getting anywhere near her list.

After an hour, my bed was made with neat hospital corners, and Frankie had a complete inventory of what each of my boxes contained. She had numbered each box and written the number on the box and on her inventory list. She had even convinced me to unpack and put away at least half of my clothes, which I did to make up for her getting stuck with a lazy slob for a roommate.

"Wow," I said, surveying the room. "You're really good at that."

"I know," Frankie said. Then she gasped and slammed a hand over her mouth. "Oh, my stars. That was rude of me. I'm so sorry. I usually never brag."

I almost laughed, but I was pretty sure it would hurt her feelings. "It's not bragging when it's true. You should totally own it."

She gave me a beaming smile.

"Let's go meet our suitemates," I said. Her smile vanished, but she followed me out of the room.

Our third-floor suite consisted of a living room, surrounded by three double bedrooms. The door to exit the living room led outside to the balcony and stairwell, where we had a view of academic buildings and a few trees. The common living area was empty and the doors to the other rooms were closed.

"Maybe we should just hang out in the living room, until someone comes out and wants to be social," Frankie said, her voice fast and breathy again.

Frankie seemed to have gone beyond nervous to terrified, and I hated to see anyone afraid. I understood how fear could eat away at the sand under your feet until you were drowning without even realizing what happened. I faced Frankie and put my hands on her shoulders. "It's okay," I said. "I like you, Francesca Lewis, so you already have one friend at college."

"Oh," Frankie said, studying me like maybe she thought I was making fun of her. I stared back at her with only calm compassion in my eyes, or at least what I imagined calm compassion looked like. "Okay," she said. "It's just...I'm not good at meeting new people. This is the first time I've ever been away from home for longer than a night."

"I've never been away from home for even a night until now," I said. If that was the worst flaw she brought into that dorm room, she was already light years better than me. "I'll do most of the talking. If you feel uncomfortable, just clear your throat and I'll make an excuse for us to leave."

She nodded and swallowed hard. "I'll be fine. I need to learn to be more outgoing and push myself out of my comfort zone." She hesitated, her cheeks pinking again. "I like you, too."

It was official, I'd made my first friend ever. I bit my lip and bent my knees so that I wouldn't shout and jump up and down. "Good."

I knocked on the first door and a tiny girl with a blonde pixie cut and a book in her hand peeked out. "Hi," she said. "I was just about to come out to meet everyone, but I wanted to finish this one chapter." She spoke in a genteel southern drawl that was as slow as molasses, the perfect counterpart to Frankie's fast talking. If I closed my eyes while she talked, I could picture her in a hoop skirt, standing on a verandah. Her eyes dropped back down to her book as soon as she'd finished talking.

"Whatever you're reading," I said, "I want to borrow it when you're done."

She looked up and smiled. "Sure, but you've probably read it before. _Wuthering Heights_?" Her green eyes flashed with excitement as she spoke.

"I haven't read that one." It was on a reading list for my home school curriculum, but I'd chosen a Sherlock Holmes book instead. "We can meet you out in the lounge if you want to finish that chapter first."

She dipped her head and I thought she hadn't heard me, but then she shut the book with a snap and smiled up at us. "Done. Come on in." She threw her door open wide and gestured for us to enter. "I'm Liza-Bell, but most everyone just calls me Bell."

Bell was wearing glasses and a retro-looking, blue dress with a bell skirt and brilliant red belt, and her side of the room matched her clothing style not even a little bit. It was just books, books, and more books stuffed in every conceivable space. The other side of the room, like mine, was full of boxes but absent a human.

"Where's your roommate?" I asked.

"I haven't seen her. All I know is that her name's Alexandria and she has a boyfriend who's a junior here."

"This is my roommate, Frankie," I said, waving Frankie in. She left her spot in the doorway, entered reluctantly, and sat down next to me on the vacant bed. "I'm Remy."

"Where are y'all from?" Bell asked. "I'm from Savannah, Georgia originally, but I've lived in Las Vegas for the last six years."

"I'm from Rollingsworth, West Virginia," I said.

"I'm from right down the road," Frankie said, her words slamming together like they were in a mosh pit. "Richmond, Virginia."

Bell gave me a quick wide-eyed glance, but covered quickly. "It's nice to meet you both," she said, her voice changing to a softer tone, honey and gentle, like she'd just realized we were fragile and speaking too loud might damage us.

"Have you met our other suitemates?" I asked.

Bell nodded. "I met Ella, but she had to run off to work. Her roommate is Selene, but she isn't getting in until tomorrow."

"So," I said, dropping my eyes to the floor to hide my disappointment. "It's just the three of us, then." Bell seemed nice, but I needed to do something to quiet the bubble of excitement and anticipation still raging inside me. I took a deep breath and tried to get a grip. I looked up to find Bell watching me, her gaze almost intrusive.

"Well, I don't know about you ladies," Bell said. "But I am starving. Why don't we see if we can figure out where the dining hall is?"

"Oh, I know where it is," Frankie said, her words a bit slower. "I've got a campus map right here." She actually pulled an index card sized object from her back pocket and unfolded it to reveal a full-size campus map. I was definitely going to have to keep hanging out with her.

***

Three hours later, we were well-fed and at an off-campus party. We were invited by the older brother of one of Bell's high school friends, and we knew no one there. That didn't matter. Frankie, it turned out, loosened up quite a bit after she'd had approximately two swallows of beer and the three of us had spent the better part of an hour dancing to some truly old school rap. My phone vibrated in my pocket and I shimmied off the dance floor to answer it. I'd already let Byron know I wouldn't be stopping by his frat, I'd rather hang out with my roommates and possibly meet some guys who wouldn't be warned to stay away from me. Still, I knew he'd worry if I didn't answer his latest text.

Byron: Text me back and let me know you're still alive.

Me: I'm either still alive or I'm lying dead in a gutter somewhere and the psycho who killed me has my phone and is pretending to be me.

I'd meant to be funny, but when my phone rang a moment later, it was clear I'd miscalculated.

"Seriously, Byron, it was just a joke," I said as soon as I answered.

"You're supposed to be with Byron," Uncle Leon said, sounding pissed. "Where are you? Are you at a party without your brother?"

Byron was technically my cousin and I thought of him as such, but my uncle always called his sons my brothers, and he would have liked me to call him dad. I never did, because he wasn't my dad. I couldn't remember my own father, who'd died when I was eight, and calling Leon Dad just felt like pretending my real dad had never existed.

I put a hand over my phone and pushed through the crowd and out of the apartment. Once I was in the quiet hall, I took a deep breath and put the phone back to my ear. Uncle Leon had escalated to yelling about coming down there and dragging me back home. "It's fine," I said. "I'm just at a noisy restaurant and Byron is meeting me here any minute." I lied to my uncle, but you would lie to your uncle, too, if he was uber-paranoid and refused to let you attend college unless you went to the same school as your cousin and promised to never leave your dorm room except for classes.

"Well, that's alright then," he said. It cracked my heart just a bit that he didn't sound the least bit suspicious. "How do you like your dorm room? What's your roommate like?"

Two people stumbled out the apartment door, laughing and talking so loudly I figured at least one of them must be hard of hearing. "Oh, there's Byron. I gotta go Uncle Leon, I'll call you tomorrow."

"Okay, sweetheart. I love you."

My eyes burned suddenly, and I swallowed hard against the lump in my throat. "I love you, too."

I hurried back into the party, but everything inside had changed. Bell sat on a couch, chatting with a blonde, lanky guy and laughing as though he was the funniest person she'd ever met. Frankie was still dancing, but she had a guy wrapped around her, his hands on her butt, his face in her neck. She didn't look happy, she looked panicked. I had no way of knowing what had happened, but I knew Frankie didn't want to be dancing with that guy, and I wasn't going to allow her to be miserable when I'd convinced her to be there.

I walked over and tapped the guy on the shoulder. "Mind if I cut in?" I asked, letting my voice go all sugary and sweet.

They guy groping my new roommate looked at me and laughed. "I think she'd rather be with me. Wouldn't you, baby?" Mr. Gropey Hands asked the last to Frankie, and the poor dear, bless her heart, just didn't want to be rude. She shrugged and gave him a sweet smile, but when she looked at me, I could see she was dying for my help.

"Seriously?" I asked, letting anger tinge my words. "You said you loved me, yet here you are feeling up some douche bag?"

"Hey!" the guy said, letting go of Frankie and turning to face me. He looked angry and he was most definitely drunk, and I wondered if I'd miscalculated. Growing up with four older cousins, I'd learned a few things about dealing with men, but my cousins would never hurt me. I wasn't so sure the same was true for that guy.

I barreled past him and got in Frankie's face. She paled and took a step back, so I winked at her and gave her a quick smile, before I wrapped myself around her. "The only person you should be dancing with is me," I said, loud enough for the angry guy I'd just cock blocked to hear. "Just play along," I whispered in Frankie's ear. She giggled, wrapped her arms around my neck, and started swaying with me to the music.

Mr. Gropey Hands appeared in my line of sight. "Any chance you go both ways?" he asked. "Maybe you girls would both like to come back to my place?"

"Well, I certainly would, sugar," I said, putting on a southern drawl to rival Bell's. "But I only like vaginas."

"Maybe I could change your mind," he said, with what I suspect he intended to be a leer, but looked more like he was having a stroke.

"Yeah," I said. "No. You couldn't."

A vein started throbbing in his forehead. "Look, I don't know what the fuck your problem is, but I—"

"Why don't you get me and my girlfriend a drink and we'll talk about it," I said, trying to bring him down from what appeared to be a steroidal rage.

As soon as he left, I broke away from Frankie and dragged her off the dance floor. "Let's blow this popsicle stand," I said.

I hurried us over to the couch, where Bell was still talking to the hot guy. I grabbed her shoulder and started pulling her up from the couch. I wasn't afraid to fight a guy, but...okay, I wasn't afraid to fight my cousins, but Mr. Gropey Hands was much bigger than me and running away seemed the better option.

Bell pulled against me and gave me an annoyed look. "What?" she asked, her southern drawl making her sound like a delicate flower, even when she was obviously annoyed.

"I just pissed off a really, really big guy who was groping Frankie," I said. "We should go."

"Just tell him to back off," Bell said.

"Um." I stifled the urge to be sarcastic. "I sort of did, but he's a bit scary."

"Who is he?" Bell's beau asked. "I can talk to him for you."

I pointed to Mr. Gropey hands, who was heading toward the dance floor, balancing two red cups and two jello shots. I really hated playing the damsel in distress at my first college party, and I didn't want Bell's new friend to get hurt. "It's okay," I said. "We'll just leave."

"No way," the guy said, although he did pale a bit when I pointed out Mr. Gropey Hands. I mean he wasn't the hulk, he was more Chris Hemsworth than Lou Ferrigno, but he was big enough to be a problem for Bell's somewhat lanky friend. "No one leaves one of my parties because some dude is being a dick." He gestured to someone across the room and started heading to cut off Frankie's nemesis, who had just spotted us.

Bell, Frankie, and I sat on the couch and watched as Bell's new friend met up with a well-muscled guy, who was about the size of Chris Evans on the famous-guys-who-play-superheroes scale I was building in my head, and started talking to Mr. Gropey Hands. Mr. Gropey Hands threw the drinks he was carrying into the faces of Bell's friend and his back-up, and then punched Bell's friend in the face and kicked the other guy in the balls while they were blinded by alcohol. That shit just pissed me off. Fighting dirty was for pansies and family members.

Mr. Gropey Hands grabbed Bell's friend by his hair and yanked him back to hit him again, and I saw red. Before I even realized what I was doing, I was off the couch and kicking Mr. Gropey Hands hard in the shin. He dropped Bell's friend and, while he was howling like a wimp about his shin, I boxed his ears. I wasn't MMA trained or anything, but I knew how to cause pain and disorientation. By that time, Bell's friend and his back-up had recovered and they moved in on Mr. Gropey Hands. The back-up guy pulled back to punch Mr. Gropey Hands and, accidently, elbowed me in the nose. I heard a pop and saw stars, right before my entire face exploded in pain.

I did my best to move out of firing range and not fall over in agony. Bell grabbed my elbow and led me to the couch, and Frankie appeared moments later with towels and ice. "I can't believe you did that," Frankie said, her words at a normal pace. She wrapped her baggy of ice cubes in a towel and pushed it gently against my nose. "How does it feel?"

"It really hurts," I said. "I think it might be broken."

"Maybe," Frankie said. "I broke my nose cheerleading last year, and I bled everywhere." She pulled the ice off and looked at me. "We won't know for sure until the swelling goes down, but it doesn't look broken to me."

"Oh, shit," somebody said. "What happened to your friend?"

"Your friend hit her with his elbow," Bell told someone. I couldn't see much, because Frankie had put the ice back on my nose.

"Hey, Worthy," Bell's friend said. "Get your ass over here and apologize to the girl."

I tried to push the ice off my nose, but Frankie wasn't letting me. "You need to keep it on, for ten more minutes," she said.

"What happened?" asked a deep male voice I assumed belonged to Worthy.

"Dude, you elbowed her in the nose," Bell's friend said. "You are such a fucking bruiser."

"Is she okay?" Worthy asked.

"I don't think it's broken," Frankie said. "But we won't know for sure until the swelling goes down." Frankie seemed to be in her element with the first aid job, and she was actually speaking to a stranger at a normal pace.

"Tell her I'm sorry, and—"

"My ears weren't injured," I said. "I'm fine. I know you didn't hit me on purpose."

"Well, I'm sorry, anyway..." he said.

"Remy," Bell said. "Her name is Remy."

"Remy, I'm sorry. Can I give you a ride home? Or to a hospital? Whatever you want."

"Have you been drinking?" Bell asked.

"I haven't started, yet. I don't want Remy trying to walk back to the dorms in her condition."

Moments later, I was in a backseat, with Frankie still holding the ice on my nose. "Surely the ten minutes is up, Frankie," I said. I heard the car start to turn over and stutter a couple of times before the motor hummed to life.

"You've got thirty more seconds," Frankie said, entirely serious.

By the time she'd agreed to remove the ice, we were already in motion, and all I could see from my seat directly behind the driver was the back of Worthy's head.

Worthy pulled up to the dorms less than five minutes later. My nose had stopped bleeding and Frankie was pretty sure I didn't need to sit in an emergency room for the next four hours. I was in no mood to argue with her opinion, but I was definitely hitting her up for a handful of aspirin when we got back to our room.

Worthy got out of the car and hurried to open my door and help me out. I looked up and saw an angel, the streetlight directly behind his head making a halo around his face. I couldn't make out many of his features, but the lights of passing cars provided enough light for me to see that he had a firm jaw and eyes that looked amber and otherworldly in the weird light. He touched my elbow and guided me to the steps leading up and into the building. "Again, I'm sorry," he said. "Can I have your phone? I'll give you my number in case your nose is broken and you have any medical expenses."

I pulled my phone from my pocket and gave it to him. He typed in his number and handed it back.

"Thanks Worthy," Bell said. "We can take it from here."

"Okay," he said, not moving and not letting go of me. "Let me know if she needs anything."

"Sure," Bell said. Worthy let me go and stepped back, and she and Frankie helped me up the stairs.

"I can walk, you know," I said, even though I felt dizzy and my eyes must have been getting puffy, because everything was a bit blurry.

"Really?" Bell said. "You accepted Worthy's help without argument, why can't you accept ours?"

"What the hell happened?" Byron roared. I could just make out his hazy shape in front of our suite door. I remembered the last text I'd sent him and figured he was freaking out. College was really going to be fun, I could already tell.

### CHAPTER TWO

My first party in college, my first party ever, got me elbowed in the face, and I started classes and a job at the campus cafeteria with two black eyes and a swollen nose. At least, I wasn't invisible. Everyone noticed me and everyone wanted to know what my story was. Well, almost everyone, a few people shied away from me like I must be scary, which was awesome. I've never been scary before. I've never been anything before, except the cousin and the niece.

I saw Worthy in my third, and final, class of my second day of college, Intro to Biology. The class was held in a lecture hall and was already about half-filled with students. The doors to the lecture hall opened at the back and the top of the room and stairs led down past theater-style seating to the main floor. I saw Worthy, seated near the front, and looking back at me as I walked down the stairs. He didn't seem to register me as someone he knew, and I suspected he was looking for someone else. He wasn't what anyone would call gorgeous, but I liked the way he looked. He had a sharp jaw and perfect, shiny, brown curls that flopped into his eyes. It was his eyes that drew me, a rich brown I knew took on a weird amber hue in the right light.

I saw him and I wanted him. It was that simple. I wanted to hear the deep rumble of his voice again, and I wanted to see what he looked like when he smiled. And when I wanted something, I wasn't so good about being patient and waiting. I was the girl who ate dessert first and snuck around trying to catch a peek at Christmas presents before the big day. I marched down the steps and smiled at Worthy like I was the one he'd been waiting for. He, however, somehow managed to resist my smile. Before I could say hello, he frowned and shook his head. Silently warning me not to bother.

I stopped for just a moment, but then I reminded myself that rejection was part of life and I wasn't going to hide from any part of life. I continued down the stairs and climbed over Worthy's legs to plop down right next to him.

"That seat's taken," he said, his eyes still trained on the stairs.

"By your girlfriend?"

He looked at me then, startled by my ordinary question. "No. A friend. You need to sit somewhere else."

Wow. So, my body wanted an asshole. It would have been unlikely that the first guy I found myself attracted to would be a gem, but the disappointment still stung. "No problem," I said. "I just wanted to thank you again for getting me home safe last night." I stood and he grabbed my hand, his touch warm.

He looked up at me. "I'm sorry. I'm not usually so rude, it's just that...you're Byron's little sister, right? He came home swearing about his little sister getting beaten up last night and the name he used was Remington."

"Cousin," I said, my heart sinking. Even away at college, I wasn't truly free.

"What?"

"He's my cousin, he just calls me his sister. He told you to stay away from me, right?" I was going to kick Byron in the gonads when I saw him, and then I was going to kick Worthy for being cowed by my cousin. "And you're just pusillanimous enough to listen to him." I jerked my hand away from his.

"I'm what?"

I rolled my eyes. "A wimp, a wuss, a chicken shit, a spineless invertebrate. Take your pick. You're shooing me away like a gnat because my cousin told you to stay away from me and you're too pusillanimous to ignore him."

His face reddened. "What? No. He's my friend and I respect—"

"I see your lips moving. But all I'm hearing is, 'I'm a chicken shit.'"

"That's not fair." His brow creased and his mouth turned down in anger. No one liked to be called a wimp, but wimps especially hated to be called out.

I stepped over his legs and into the aisle, scanning the rows for the toughest, baddest dude in that lecture hall. Someone who wouldn't be afraid to stand up to my cousin, who would think I was worth it. Ah, there he was, two rows behind Worthy, dark hair, a medium build, and normal clothes, but ice-cold eyes and a bar through his cheek. There was a guy who wasn't afraid of pain.

I climbed the steps to him, crawled over several sets of legs and sat down next to him. "Hi, I'm Remy."

The guy gave me a lazy once-over, a smile tickling his mouth. "I'm the guy you're using to piss Worthy off," he said, pointing down to Worthy, who was glaring at both of us. "But you can just call me Harrison."

I smiled and felt lighter than I had all day. "I think I'm going to like you, Harrison."

"And I'm pretty sure you're insane," he said with a wicked grin. "What the hell happened to your face, anyway?"

"Well, you see, Harrison, I was goat herding in the Swiss Alps and one of the goats got real pissed off when I insisted on playing Steely Dan during its grazing time—"

"Welcome to Intro to Biology," the professor interrupted. I stopped talking and gave the professor my full attention. "Without biology, folks, none of you would be here, so I expect you to take this class seriously." I pulled out my laptop and started pounding out notes. I loved college.

***

"What's your story?" I asked, as Harrison and I walked out of class together.

"Clearly not as interesting as yours," he said with a smirk. "I'm just your average guy from small town nowhere."

"Right," I said. "That's why I picked you to sit with, because you looked totally boring. What about that bar in your cheek? That has to have a fun story to go with it."

"Well, you see, Remy," Harrison said. "I was skydiving in Mozambique, when—"

"Hey, Remy," Worthy said, catching up to us. "Can we talk for a minute?"

I looked around, feigning nervousness. "I don't know. What if Byron sees us?"

Worthy shook his head and glared at me. "It's called respect. Byron's a friend and he asked me to keep my distance, so I'm staying away. That doesn't make me a chicken shit, it makes me a good friend."

He started to walk away, and I stared after him confused. "Why do you care?"

He stopped and turned to look back at me. "What?"

"You're never going to talk to me or see me again," I said. "So why do you care what I think of you? Other people's opinions are about as useful as a popsicle in a snowstorm and all of that."

He stared hard at me, a wrinkle twisting his brow. He looked confused and a bit lost and I wanted to grab him and find some way to help him. Unfortunately for Worthy, I had some pride. I wouldn't chase him like a kicked puppy. "I don't care," he said.

"Pretty sure you do."

He shook his head, his frown fierce, and stormed off, almost knocking over a girl in a mini skirt and thigh-high boots in the process. She cursed at him, but she checked him out as he walked away.

"What was that all about?" Harrison asked.

"He's friends with my over-protective cousin and is staying away from me, as he just explained."

Harrison started walking and I fell into step next to him. "Still doesn't make sense," he said.

I sighed. I was tired of thinking about Worthy. "What confuses me is a mini-skirt and thigh-high boots, is that really in fashion anywhere but a go-go bar or a strip club?"

"I thought she looked hot as hell," Harrison said.

"You would."

He laughed and threw an arm around my shoulders. "Not as hot as you, though."

"Thanks. Do you want to be my boyfriend?" I'd never had a boyfriend before, and Harrison seemed like he'd be easy to get along with and fun. I didn't feel the attraction to Harrison that I felt to Worthy, but I figured that was a good thing. The way Worthy made me feel, the way I was so drawn to him when I didn't even know him, that was bad news. Worthy was the big leagues, and I had to work up to him.

Harrison gave me a little squeeze. "You don't want me, Remy. You want that idiot who just stormed away."

I gasped. "How do you know that?"

"I have eyes, baby. Besides, I don't do the dating thing. I do the let's have a good time tonight and pretend we don't know each other tomorrow thing. And you're too much of a good girl for that." His gaze was snagged by a girl jogging by in shorts and a sports bra. She noticed him and smiled when he winked at her.

I wondered if I could be the love 'em and leave 'em type. The truth was I hadn't been out in the world long enough to know what type I was. I considered going home with Harrison for some uncomplicated fun and a chance to experience sex, but just the thought of kissing him when I wanted Worthy made me feel wrong and a bit dirty. I slumped. "Yeah, I am a good girl. And I'm a virgin." I slapped a hand over my mouth. "Oh, my god, I don't know what's wrong with me. I seem to have come down with some sort of virus of the rambling sort."

Harrison laughed. "It's okay. I like your honesty. Most people are pretending to be someone they aren't."

***

I guess I had a romantic vision of studying in my dorm room, but reality is a jerkweed that will kick you when you're down. It was Saturday and I didn't have to work, so I'd planned to spend the whole day studying. I'd also slept in probably later than I should have, met Byron for lunch, and unpacked the rest of my clothes. So, it was now after seven and I was finally getting down to studying and Frankie, who'd managed her time much better and was done studying, wanted to chat.

"I mean, I barely talked to him at all and he just made this arbitrary judgment about me," Frankie said, interrupting my reading about cellular structure for the third time. "You don't think I'm too nice, do you?"

I really regretted ever bringing Harrison around to meet my suitemates. "You already told me you don't like him, so why do you care what he thinks?"

Frankie dropped her head into her pillow and mumbled something.

I considered ignoring her, since I couldn't actually hear what she was saying, but I kind of felt bad for the girl. She'd had a rough few first days. Some guy had shoved her into a wall and she had a gnarly bruise on her side. She claims he didn't even realize he'd done it, said she's invisible. "Frankie, I can't hear you through the pillow."

She looked up at me, her face flaming red. "I think he's really cute."

I spun around in my chair and faced her. "You said you don't like him."

"I don't like him. He's horrible. He's so flirty and I'm pretty sure everything he said was a lie."

I bit back a laugh. "He's not a bad guy, Frankie. It's okay if you like him."

"I don't like him," she said, sounding somewhere in the ballpark of snippy, though I'd never heard her be anything but sweet as pumpkin pie before. "I'm just, you know, attracted to him, or whatever."

"And you care what he thinks of you," I said.

She gave a little growl and dropped her face back into the pillow. "What is wrong with me?"

"Nothing is wrong with you. You can't control hormones, sweetie. We've established that you don't like him, so you probably only care about what he thinks because you feel the need for him to be attracted to you in return."

She pulled her face out of the pillow and looked at me. "You really think so?"

I nodded. "Yes. I do."

She sniffled. "Okay. Sorry to interrupt your reading."

I spun around and returned to cellular structure. I loved learning and, even if I didn't, I wasn't going to fail college and risk getting sent back to live with my uncle.

"Hey, ladies," Bell said, sticking her head in the door. "I heard there's an ice cream party going on downstairs. It's freee." She actually sang the last part.

I should have refused and kept studying, but really, who turns down free ice cream?

"I'm in," I said. "Does this mean we're going to meet our other suitemates tonight?"

Bell shrugged. "I haven't seen them. My roommate's always with her boyfriend, and the other two are MIA."

"Have you met any of them?" I asked Frankie. I was nosy, I admit it.

Frankie nodded. "I have a class with Selene. I tried to talk to her, but the professor walked in and Selene shushed me."

"She _shushed_ you?"

"She did it politely," Frankie said, dropping her eyes to the floor.

"Well, in that case...What about after class?"

"She ran off, saying she had to get to work," Frankie said. "I guess she's not very social."

Bell put an arm around Frankie's shoulders. "Don't take it personally, sugar. She works crazy long hours, and I think she's really stressed about school."

Frankie nodded, and wrapped an arm around Bell's waist. "More ice cream for us."

I followed them out and down the hall to the courtyard. There were crowds of people milling around and about five tables of ice cream and toppings. I spotted Harrison standing by a tree, flirting with some girl in denim shorts and a halter top. I didn't want to interrupt his game, so I headed for the ice cream, but he shouted my name and waved me over.

"Aren't you a sophomore?" I asked when I got to him. "Pretty sure this party is for freshmen only."

He looked around with an amused smile, and denim shorts girl glared at me like I was the one who'd interrupted her flirtation. "Really? I don't see any signs forbidding upperclassmen."

I couldn't argue with that. "Have you gotten any ice cream, yet?"

"Yeah, let's get some ice cream," denim shorts girl said. Harrison ignored us both and stared at something over my shoulder. I turned to see a crowd of students and had no idea who he was eying up.

"Hello, Harrison?" I said. "Want to get some ice cream?"

"I'm not here for ice cream," he said. Denim shorts girl giggled like he'd made a joke. "I came to see if you and your friends want to go to a party with me tonight."

"What kind of party?"

"I love parties," denim shorts girl said in a breathy voice. "And I'm a lot more fun than her." She looked me up and down like I had something grotesque stuck to my clothing. I checked, but I was gross stuff free.

Harrison looked at her like he'd forgotten she was standing right next to him. "I'm sure you do and I'm sure you are, but this is a private party."

"Those are my favorite kind." Denim shorts girl ran a finger up Harrison's arm. He shuddered and shook her off.

"I can only bring one person, sorry," Harrison said. When denim shorts girl kept looking at him hopefully, he sighed. "You seem really nice and you're gorgeous, but I can't take you to this party."

Denim shorts girl should have been mad at Harrison, since he was the one who'd dissed her, but she turned her angry face to me. "When you get bored with the hippy," she said to Harrison. "Come find me. I'm in room 312."

She stuck her chin in the air and stalked off. I wasn't sure whether I should laugh or be annoyed. If I thought being called a hippy was an insult, I might have gotten irritated, but I'd been called much worse.

Harrison watched her go and shook his head. I wasn't sure if his expression was relief or regret, but he turned back to me without a word about her. "It's not a party, exactly. It's more like a paintball tournament in the dark. A bunch of my friends and I go about once a month, and I thought you girls might like to join us."

My heart pounded with anticipation, and I had to swallow hard not to start jumping up and down in excitement. Growing up in the mountains of West Virginia in a family of men who loved to hunt, I hadn't had much choice about learning to handle a gun. I was a pretty good shot and I'd been dying to try paintball. "Yes, please," I said, trying to sound demure. I didn't want him to know I was excited or that I knew how to shoot. No reason to let him know ahead of time that he was going to lose. "I would love to give paintball a try. Do those little balls of paint hurt when they hit?"

Harrison smiled wide enough to crack his face. "Hell, yeah, they do. Do you think Frankie and that other girl want to go?"

Oh, no. "Look, Harrison," I said. "I like you. I really do, but stay the hell away from Frankie."

He didn't even bother to try to look annoyed. His smile turned predatory with wolfish enjoyment. "You scared I'm going to debauch her?"

"She's a nice girl, Harrison, and she's my friend. She's not some girl you just sleep with and toss aside."

Finally, he looked annoyed. "What makes you think that's all I want?"

I just stared at him. I might not know much about living in the real world or modern social mores, but Harrison had told me himself that he didn't date and I was pretty positive Frankie wasn't a casual hook-up kind of girl. "Frankie's the kind of girl you date. She's not the 'good time tonight and pretend I don't know you tomorrow' kind of girl." I bent my fingers to make air quotes where needed.

Harrison smirked. "Maybe she doesn't know what kind of girl she is. Maybe she needs someone to help her find her way."

"No, no, no," I said, hoping he was joking. "I like you and I like Frankie, and I don't want to have to choose sides when it goes bad."

"I never leave a woman unhappy," he said.

"How would you know? You don't stick around to find out."

He grinned. "I've never had any complaints." He must have seen the genuine concern on my face, because he got serious. "Don't worry, Remy. I have no intention of tarnishing that angel's halo."

"Remy, you've got to get some ice cream," Bell said. I turned to see her and Frankie strolling toward us, both with big bowls.

"I've got something even better," I said, giving both her and Frankie encouraging smiles. Frankie's gaze seemed to be stuck on Harrison, so I poked her shoulder. She re-focused on me, her cheeks pinking a bit. "Harrison's invited us to play paint ball in the dark, tonight!" I couldn't help it, I jumped up and down a couple of times.

"Really?" Bell said. "That sounds like one of my worst nightmares. I'm going to stay here and enjoy a second, and maybe a third, bowl of ice cream."

I scowled at her, but she just smiled sweetly. "Frankie, you in?"

"Sure. I've never played before, but it sounds like fun."

Bell stepped toe to toe with Harrison. "How do I know you aren't going to drive my friends down some country road, murder them, and cut their bodies up into little pieces?"

Harrison looked at me, but I just shrugged. Bell made a good point. "Um, you have a scarily vivid imagination," Harrison said. "But I promise I have only the best of intentions. Remy's brother knows me, call him."

"He's my cousin," I said. "And how do you know him?"

Harrison shrugged. "I've seen him around. He's played paintball with us a couple times."

I really didn't want to call Byron and tell him what we were doing, but Bell was glaring at me and tapping her foot like a worried mother, so I pulled my phone out of my back pocket and dialed. My cousin answered freaky fast, like he'd been waiting for me to call, or he was watching me and had seen me take out my phone.

"Hey, sis, what's up?" he asked, sounding way too chipper.

"Do you know a guy named Harrison. Harrison..." I looked at Harrison.

He rolled his eyes. "Hunt."

"Harrison Hunt. Seriously? That sounds like a total porn name."

Harrison gave me the finger and Byron laughed in my ear. "I said the same thing when he told me his name. Yeah, I know him." He sighed. "Please tell me you aren't going out with him, because I have to tell you, sis, Harrison is the player's player and I really—"

"No, I'm definitely not even remotely interested in Harrison in any romantic way." As much fun as it would have been to tease my cousin, I just wanted Bell to let us go play paintball. "He wants to take me and Frankie to play paint ball in the woods."

"Who's Frankie? Please tell me you aren't already seeing someone."

Again, I was beyond tempted to tease him, but I managed to restrain myself. "She's my roommate. About the paint ball...?"

"Yeah, it's all good. I've played before. Just let me talk to Harrison right quick."

For all his book-learnin' Byron still talked like a country boy when it suited him. I handed the phone over to Harrison and he listened, said yes three times, hung up and handed back my phone. "We're all good." He looked at Bell. "Satisfied, mother?"

Bell gave him a sweet smile. "As I'll ever be, I suppose. Have fun, children."

We hugged Bell goodbye and got in Harrison's car. I sat in the back, so I could share Frankie's ice cream. "No, really," Harrison said. "I'll just chauffer you ladies to paintball. And don't bother offering me any ice cream. I'm just the driver."

"Oh, I'm sorr—" Frankie started, but I elbowed her in the side. She looked at me with wide eyes, and I gave her an apologetic smile. It was easy to forget how sensitive she could be.

"Are you going to whine this much during paint ball, Harrison? Cause if you are, I'm signing on with the other team."

"I'd love it if you joined the other team, Remy, because then I could kick your ass. Harrison Hunt is my father's and my grandfather's name, and in no way sounds porny."

"Harrison Hunt, the third," I said in a sultry voice, waggling my eyebrows at him in the rearview mirror.

He chose to ignore me.

Luckily, Harrison stopped to pick up two more guys, so I didn't have to keep trash-talking him all the way to the paintball field. The other two guys were tall and thin, but they looked tough. They chatted with Harrison about some class the three of them had together, and Frankie and I enjoyed her ice cream in peace.

About twenty minutes later, the sun had set, and Harrison turned down a bumpy dirt road and started driving into the forest. "Um," I said. "Where exactly are we going?" I was comfortable in the woods, but I'd expected us to end up in a more civilized locale.

"This is Herc's property," Harrison said. "He and I went to high school together, and he lets us use his woods for our paintball tournaments."

"Will he be playing?"

Harrison's brow twisted. "He usually doesn't. Worthy said he'd stop over early and try to talk him into it, but I haven't heard if he's been successful or not.

My heart skipped a little. "Worthy?" I asked. "Worthy's involved in these paintball tournaments?"

Harrison choked back a laugh. "Oh, yeah, did I forget to mention that?"

"And he's going to be here tonight?"

Harrison shrugged. "Probably. But he'll be on the other team."

Harrison parked the car in the middle of nothing, as far as I could tell, and everyone piled out. It was pitch dark, and I couldn't see anything. Frankie stumbled out of the car with me, and clung to my arm. "Is it too late to back out?" she asked.

"It's fine," I said, trying to sound calm, but wondering what the hell I'd gotten us into.

Harrison's laugh erupted next to me, and I almost jumped out of my skin as he grabbed my elbow and led me away from the car. I grabbed Frankie's hand and pulled her with us. After a few moments, my eyes adjusted enough that I could make out trees and bushes in the light of the full moon. We followed Harrison to a barn, and got outfitted with coveralls, full-face goggles, body armor, gloves, and yellow armbands. Harrison explained that the enemy would be wearing red armbands. One of Harrison's friends handed us each high-tech paintball guns. "Where is everyone else?" I asked, since it was just the five of us in the barn.

"They're already in the woods," Harrison said. "We're a bit late, so they've probably got a gnarly ambush set up for us."

Despite my mixed feelings about running into Worthy, I couldn't help the excitement I felt at finding out what kind of ambush they'd set up and how I'd elude it. "Stick with me," I said to Frankie. She looked badass in her paintball goggles, and her eyes crinkled like she was grinning under her face mask. She seemed to have a secret wild side.

Harrison and his friends took off at a run, hooting and hollering, and acting like idiots. I kept Frankie close and followed them at a slow jog. We were on a dirt path wide enough for a four-wheeler, so there was no worry about tripping on tree roots or getting hit in the face with branches. The scent of earth and pine filled my nostrils, and I felt something inside me relax in recognition of a beloved, familiar place. A couple hundred yards in, the trail narrowed and we saw our first camouflaged blind. We slowed to a walk and tried to make out any signs of trouble in the dark. A whoop made Frankie jump and my heart beat faster. The sound had come from our right, so we headed that way. About ten feet farther on, the forest was lit by man-made lights strung up in the trees. I pulled Frankie back into the dark forest, where we wouldn't be such easy targets, and we continued to head in the direction the sound had come from.

The farther we got into the woods, the more lights we found. Frankie and I were just about to step into a circle of light when I heard a twig snap. It could have been a squirrel, but we weren't in any hurry, so I pulled Frankie down into the bushes next to me, and we waited.

Not more than ten seconds passed before a male figure moved into the light. I couldn't see his armband, because he was turned away from us. "Get ready," I whispered to Frankie. "You take the shot as soon as you see his armband." The guy wasn't much smaller than a barn, and I didn't see how she could miss him.

I scrabbled around on the ground in the dark, trying to be quiet and find something big enough to make a noise and distract the guy. Just when I was about to give up, sure the guy had already moved on, I found a rock. I lobbed it as hard as I could into the forest behind the guy, and it hit a tree and a bush before it crashed to the ground. The guy spun to see what had made the noise and we saw his red armband. Frankie took the shot and, accidentally, made a direct hit to his crotch. Not bothering to swallow my laugh when the guy doubled over and started swearing, I grabbed Frankie and pulled her with me through the forest, trying to be as quiet as possible, but more worried about getting far away from the guy she'd just whacked in the balls.

Once we'd gotten about a hundred yards away, we approached another lighted area, this one larger and filled with obstacles. There were four people milling around in the lighted area, all of them wearing red armbands and discussing strategy, I assumed. Even though they appeared to be easy targets, they were blocked by a couple of obstacles and it was impossible to get a clear shot. I motioned for Frankie to go right, while I went left, and she nodded, not the least bit afraid to split up, apparently.

My first mistake was to assume that the other team was stupid enough to stand around like they were at a dinner party, when Harrison had told me they all played regularly. My second mistake was to keep all my attention on the group in the light and none on my surroundings. I found a good spot, where I had a clear view of the group. I hunkered down, raised my gun, and took aim.

Suddenly, I was on my back, with a heavy weight on my belly. There was a strange guy straddling me and laughing. "I can't believe you fell for that," he said. I couldn't tell who he was or, even, what he looked like, because his face was covered in some bizarre sort of war paint, but he was considerably larger and heavier than me.

I bucked against him, not moving him at all, and a knot of panic started to build in my chest. "Paintball is not a contact sport," I managed to say, pushing the words out in a breathless rush. I tried to calm my racing heart. There was nothing to be afraid of I told myself, but I wasn't sure I believed it. I didn't know this guy, didn't really know Harrison or Worthy. He could do anything to me and there might be no one willing to help me.

I tried to shake off my fear. He was just a college student like me, and Byron would have warned me if any of the paintballers were dangerous. I started to twist my body into position to buck him off, but he leaned in close, his breath warm against my ear. "I just wanted an excuse to see you up close, new girl."

His words were probably meant to calm me, but his weight on me and his hot breath on my skin sent my heart into a frenzy and my lungs constricted, making it harder to breathe. My gaze went fuzzy and I was no longer in a forest, the damp ground under my back. I was in a dark room, a soft carpet under me and a man, a man the same age as my father, straddling me. He leaned in, his breath hot and reeking of garlic. "Your daddy isn't here, little girl, so you're going to have to pay his debt." I squirmed under him, but I was tiny, just a child, and I couldn't move him at all.

The man pushed something hard and cold under my chin, and I knew it was a gun. I knew he was going to kill me for something my father had done. It wouldn't be the first time my father had made someone violently angry. A hot, heavy rage boiled up inside me and I decided I wasn't going to die. I didn't let him see the rage, though. If there was one thing my father had taught me to do well, it was to act. I dug deep for sorrow and let big fat tears fill my eyes. "Please," I gasped, as I stretched my right arm as far as I could, searching, searching. "Please," I said again. "I'll tell you whatever you want to know. I know lots of things, so many things."

His laugh revealed a rotten tooth and foul breath. "I know better than that, sweetheart. You don't have near enough information to make up for what he did to me."

My hand closed around the cool, bone handle of a knife, just as I heard the click that meant he'd removed the safety on the gun.

My cheek exploded into pain, and I was back in the forest, a circle of faces peering at me. I was sitting up, the woodsy scent of the forest all around me, the dark warmer than the dim light of that remembered living room. Tears had streaked Frankie's mascara into long dark lines down her cheeks. "I'm okay," I said.

I tried to stand and found myself restrained by strong, warm arms. I looked up to see Worthy's face above me, his arms around me, his expression a mix of anger and worry. "Herndon is an asshole. Did he hurt you?"

It took me a minute to remember that some guy had been on top of me, other than the one from my nightmare. "No," I said, beginning to shake. Not wanting Worthy to know what was happening to me, I pushed his arms away. "Please, let me go. I'm fine."

Worthy let me go and Frankie pulled me into a hard hug. "I'm okay," I said. "I'm just fine." And I was fine, at least I would be if I just kept repeating it enough. That vision, that scene with the guy on top of me and the gun to my chin, was a nightmare from my childhood. It had plagued me for years. My uncle used to hold me and rock me back to sleep, promising me over and over that he'd never let anyone hurt me. Never had I reverted to that nightmare while I was awake. It made no sense, unless something was seriously wrong with me. Something in the losing my mind, going wackadoo-crazy vein.

Someone put a hand on my back, and I turned to see Harrison behind me. "You gave us all a scare," he said. "Herndon was afraid he'd really hurt you. It was like you were asleep with your eyes open. We shook you and talked to you, but you didn't see any of us, and –"

"I slapped you," Frankie said. "I'm so sorry, Remy, but I didn't know what else to do."

"I'm fine," I said, my voice louder than I'd intended. I looked at Frankie and tried to calm down. "You didn't hurt me. I'm glad you slapped me."

She didn't look convinced, but she didn't argue or ask me why I'd been so out of it.

"You want me to drive you back to campus?" Harrison asked.

"No, I'm good," I said. "I want to keep playing."

"Absolutely not," Worthy said. "I'll drive you back."

I pulled myself free of Frankie's arms to glare at Worthy. "Byron's not here, so you can cut the protective shit. You aren't my keeper, and I'll do what I want."

"I can have Byron here in fifteen minutes," Worthy said, stepping up to me and getting right in my face. "He can drag you back to campus, if you'd prefer."

I tried not to look directly in his eyes, because he had the most beautiful eyes, and I didn't want to forget that he was pissing me off. It felt so much better to be angry and ready to fight than trapped and terrified. "You let Byron fight all your fights?"

Worthy ground his teeth for a tense ten seconds. Just as Harrison cleared his throat to step in, Worthy bent over, wrapped his arms around my thighs, and threw me over his shoulder.

"Put me down, you barbarian," I yelled. I punched his back and wriggled and kicked, but he just kept walking like I was a sack of potatoes. I picked my head up to see Frankie following behind. "Take him out at the knees, Frankie. Or punch him in his man-parts. Save me."

Frankie hesitated and blushed, and I knew I was out of luck on that front. She might be able to shoot a guy in the balls for a game, but she wasn't going to attack Worthy when shit was real.

"Harrison," I yelled, as we moved out of the light and into the dark of the forest. A tree branch swatted me on the ass, and I was sure Worthy walked us into it on purpose. "Harrison. Save me. Kick this big lug's ass."

Harrison's laughter rang out behind us. "You're on your own, princess. I agree with Worthy on this one."

"Shit, shit, triple-shit," I muttered. I started beating on Worthy's back again, but he ignored me. The asshole started whistling. "Frankie," I yelled. She was still following us. "Go back. Fight the good fight. Kick all their asses."

She gave me a nervous smile, like she hoped I was joking.

"I'm serious. Get back in there. You can take them. Pretend to be all sweet and sugar and then pound the hell out of them."

She hesitated then, her eyes lighting up, and I knew she liked the sound of that.

"Harrison," I yelled. "Make sure Frankie gets home safe?"

"Sure thing," Harrison yelled back.

Frankie nodded, gave me a silly salute, and walked back to the others.

"I'll never forgive you for this," I said as Worthy dropped me into the passenger seat of his car. I couldn't see it in the dark, but I could certainly hear the engine choke and stutter as he tried to start it.

I reached for the door handle, planning to make a break for it, but he clamped one big hand around my forearm, and I knew I wasn't going anywhere. The engine finally caught, and he headed toward the main road.

"How the hell did you get into college anyway?" I asked. "I thought they stopped accepting Neanderthals in 2010."

When he didn't rise to the bait, I slumped in my seat and simmered in silence. Until I noticed he was still holding my arm. "You can let go," I said. "I'm not stupid enough to jump out of a moving car."

"Could have fooled me."

"Oh, so you can speak. You even think you're funny, I bet. Why don't you use that voice box and try to make a bit of conversation to entertain your captive, maybe explain what the hell your problem is?"

"Why bother," he said, his eyes steady on the road. He removed his hand from my arm and placed it on the wheel. "You're never going to forgive me."

I liked his voice, deep and rumbly and warm, like a caveman with basic vocal skills. I shook my head. No, I didn't like it at all. I didn't like him or his bossiness at all. "Yeah, but I like to understand the motivations of my enemies. Makes it easier to avoid them."

"I'll be sure to stay out of your way."

"Good," I said. "Great. The last thing I need is another guy trying to be my big brother."

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Believe me, Remy, that is the last thing in the world I want. I've got enough people to take care of as it is."

His tone settled my anger a bit. He didn't sound like he was just talking trash to get me to shut up, he sounded like he really meant it and I wondered who he had to take care of and why. But I couldn't ask, because asking would be acknowledging I cared, would be letting him in a little bit. I didn't want to let him in, because he was a Neanderthal and a jerk. I'd had more than enough of overbearing, overprotective men in my life.

"Want to talk about what happened back there?" he asked.

His voice was soft, and he sounded like he really wanted to know. I sort of wanted to tell him, to tell somebody who might not brush it off as just a child's nightmare. "I'm not sure what..." My desire to share vanished when I recognized the street we were on. "We'd better not be where I think we are." Worthy pulled up in front of Byron's frat house. He stared straight ahead, not looking at me.

"He'll want to see you. He's been worried about you and, after tonight..."

I grabbed the door handle and yanked it open. It wasn't that I was opposed to seeing my cousin, I just didn't like to be forced to see him. And I wasn't ready to talk about what had happened in the woods. I leapt to my feet, ready to run, but Worthy had already made it around the car and he grabbed my arm to slow me. I tried to pull away, but he held on tight and his warm, brown eyes melted to amber. The concern on his face looked real, and I found myself leaning into him against my will. My body wanted him, even though my brain understood the stupidity of my desire. "You were about to tell me what happened in the woods."

I felt my defenses caving in the warmth of his gaze and in the feel of his strong, warm hand on me and I straightened my spine and backed away from him. "Why? So you can run off and tell Byron everything I said?"

His melty amber eyes slid back to brown and any feeling I'd seen in them vanished. His expression emptied and went cold. He held onto my wrist and swung me back up over his shoulder. "Never, ever, ever, ever forgiving you," I said, as I bounced along on his shoulder.

He climbed the stairs and opened the door, and then the shouts and jeers started. Along with peppy chants, like "Way to go Worthy," and "Finally bagged a live one, Worthy?"

"This your usual mode of dragging girls back to your cave?" I asked.

"I don't drag girls anywhere," he said, his tone sharp and curt. "They come to me."

I couldn't help but feel glad I'd hit a nerve. Inside, I was doing a little, happy dance. Outside, I was trying not to throw up the ice cream I'd shared with Frankie. "I'm sure they do, tough guy. You just reek of charm and wit. I bet you're a what? One, two, three pump and you're done kind of guy? That's the kind of barbarian moves I imagine you have."

To my surprise, he chuckled. "You've been imagining my moves?"

"What?" I said, before I had a chance to school my response. My own defenses rose, and I went from feeling smug to feeling cornered in less than a moment. I would not give that asshole the satisfaction of thinking I'd ever been or ever would be remotely interested in him. I swallowed and prepared myself to give him a verbal ass-kicking, but he set me on my feet before I could. My body slid down his and all kinds of sparks erupted and tingled in every place our bodies connected. Those were the first sparks and tingles I'd ever had in real life, as opposed to the warm fuzzies I got from movies and books, and I wanted to stay plastered against his body.

"Next time you imagine my moves," he whispered in my ear. "Make sure you get it right. I'm a one, two, three orgasm-giving kind of guy."

I should move, I knew I should move away from him before he got any ideas, but the feel of him and his words had made my body stop working. My knees seemed to have softened to some sort of gelatinous substance that didn't respond to my mental commands.

A throat cleared behind me and Worthy took a step back. I managed not to fall on my face, sucked in a deep gulp of air, and took my own step away from him. "What do you think you're doing to my sister?" Byron asked.

I spun to face the other barbarian in my life. "I'm not your sister, Byron, I'm your cousin. And I used to be your friend, but that's going to end real soon if you don't back off."

Byron raised his hands. "I've given you space, sis. You're the one who showed up in my room, all over one of my frat brothers."

"I—"

"Harrison brought her to paint ball," Worthy said. "Herndon was an asshole and knocked her down and straddled her. She spaced out. It was like she left her body. She didn't react when we talked to her or touched her. I held her on my lap and...nothing. It wasn't until Frankie slapped her—"

"That I woke up from my daze and was completely fine," I said.

Worthy gave me an annoyed look, like he was put out that I'd interrupted him.

"Oh, please, you're the one tattling on me like you're a five-year-old. Don't tell me you're worried about good manners now."

Worthy shook his head and looked down his nose at me.

"What the hell happened, Sis," Byron asked. I turned and faced him, losing some of my bravado in the face of his obvious distress.

"Tell the Neanderthal to leave," I said, "and we'll talk."

Byron's eyes widened. "Neanderthal? Worthy?" Byron looked over my shoulder and his laughter died. "Yeah, we'll be a little while, Worthy. Thank you for bringing her here."

I turned, but Worthy was already gone.

Byron grabbed my hand and pulled me into his room. A room that contained a girl, a girl in oversized glasses, an oversized sweater, men's jeans, and worn-out sneakers. A girl with thick, dark hair she'd cinched in a messy bun on the top of her head. A girl who clearly wasn't a date. I turned to Byron, wide-eyed. He had a girlfriend?

Byron rolled his eyes, reading my mind like he always did. "Lexy, this is my little sister, Remington," he said. "Remington, this is my friend, Lexy. She and I are studying together."

Lexy stood, her movements more graceful than I'd expected based on her style of dressing. "Hi, Remington," she said in a warm, real voice. "I've heard so much about you, and it's good to finally meet you."

"It's nice to meet you." I threw a look at Byron, but he ignored me. "For the record, I'm his cousin and I'm only two months younger than him."

"Three months," Byron said grumpily.

I rolled my eyes and Lexy smiled. "Two months and twenty-eight days for those of us who like to be precise."

"Your cousin is rather prone to preciseness, isn't he," Lexy said, giving Byron a look I couldn't decipher. "I'd better be going. It seems you two need to talk and I was just about to head out anyway."

"We've only gone over half a chapter," Byron said. "Remington and I will be done in a few minutes and we can get back to studying."

Lexy smiled, but it was a sad smile. "I guess I forgot to tell you, By. I have a date tonight, in half an hour in fact. I've got to go, anyway."

That was when my cousin, who didn't have a mean bone in his body, laughed at Lexy. "Sure, Lex. You don't have to make excuses. Remington and I really will just be a minute."

Lexy's eyes flashed fire and her cheeks reddened, making her delicate features flair with life and an unexpected beauty. Even Byron had the sense to take a step back. "I'm not trying to be polite, By." She spoke in that same measured, polite tone she'd used before, but her teeth were clenched. "I have a date with Jett, and I need to get ready."

"You have a date with Jett? The Jett who lives down the hall from me? Lex, he's an asshole, and you know it."

Lexy shrugged. "I think your opportunity to have any say in who I dated ended a long, long time ago, Byron. I'll see you later."

She swept past him and out of the room. Byron sank to the edge of his bed, his butt hitting hard, his face a bit pale. "What the hell is she talking about?"

"I might be able to answer that if I'd heard anything about her," I said. "She's so sweet and she's gorgeous and it seems like you two have known each other for a long time. Why haven't you ever mentioned her?"

He shrugged. "She's just Lex. We've been in a lot of the same classes and have helped each other study since freshman year, there's nothing to talk about."

"Then why do you care who she goes out with?"

"I don't..." He looked up and narrowed his eyes. "Stop trying to change the subject, Remington. What happened to you tonight?"

I took a seat next him on the bed. His bedspread was the same one he'd had when he'd lived at home. His walls and every available surface were covered with pictures of the forest and mountains around our home, and of our family. On the wall over his desk was a picture of the two of us, his arm around my shoulders, me laughing. It made me feel closer to home and homesick all at the same time. "You miss it, huh?"

He followed my gaze to the pictures of home and nodded. "It's like the mountains are in my blood, you know? I miss it, but the pictures also remind where I'm from, and why I work so hard here."

"Why do you work so hard?" Byron had always been the most laid-back of our family, the first to laugh and to play a prank. It had surprised the hell out of all of us except my uncle when Byron announced he was pre-law and started bringing in straight A's.

"So that I can go back to the mountains on my own terms. I want to live there, but I don't want to have to struggle and scrimp every damn day so I can be there."

That was the first I'd heard of money problems. "Was it really so bad?"

He looked at me, wide-eyed. "I know you've always been the baby, and you've always been treated like it, but it's time you grew up a little and opened your eyes. Dad's a mechanic, without a whole hell of a lot of jobs, and he kept us all fed and in clothes. He sent five of us to college."

I'd known all that, I'd just never really thought that much about it. "How much debt does he have?"

Byron shook his head and set his mouth in a firm line I knew all too well meant he was done talking about it. "Enough stalling. What happened to you at paintball tonight?"

I considered lying or telling him to butt out, but just as quickly discarded the idea. I'd never been good at lying to my family, and I wouldn't betray Byron's trust by doing it now. "You remember when I first came to live with y'all when I was little?"

Byron grinned wide. Even at twenty-one, he still looked like a little boy to me when he smiled. "You were so cute, all scrawny, nothing but hair and big eyes. You looked like you were five instead of eight. And I couldn't stand you, because you were the baby and I was suddenly supposed to look out for you. I was much better at being the baby."

"Lucky for you, I was charming as well as cute, and you had no choice but to adore me."

His knocked his shoulder against mine. "You're difficult not to adore. Even spoiled rotten as you are." He sobered. "What does all of this have to do with what happened out in Herc's woods?"

"That guy, Herndon, he was on top of me and it was fine. He was being an idiot, but it was fine. I was going to lure him in and flip him and pop him, you know?"

Byron nodded, never doubting my ability to physically defend myself.

"Before I could, I was suddenly back in one of those nightmares I used to have when I first moved in with y'all. Do you remember?"

His face paled a bit. "I don't remember anything about nightmares."

I had worked hard to put that time in my life behind me, and it hurt a bit trying to remember it. My mom had died when I was a baby, and my dad had died in a car accident when I was eight. My uncle had been granted custody of me. I didn't remember much from my life before I went to live with my uncle and my cousins. My uncle had home-schooled me, because he'd said it was what my father, his brother, had always wanted for me. We'd had some knock-down, drag-out fights about that as I'd gotten older, but Uncle Leon had never wavered. He'd always insisted that I was kept home because my father had wanted me kept safe from the influences of the world. That and the fact we lived on the side of a mountain thirty miles from the nearest grocery store, forty miles from the nearest school, and one hundred miles from a movie theater. He'd kept my cousins home as much as he could, even home-schooled them for a while, but they'd eventually been allowed to go to public school. They'd always had more freedoms than I did.

I couldn't remember much about those early days when I'd woken every night screaming with nightmares, but I remembered my uncle comforting me and rocking me back to sleep. He promised he'd take care of me, that no one would ever hurt me while he was around. "Maybe you didn't know," I said. "I'm pretty sure I screamed loud enough to wake the whole mountain-top, but you always were a heavy sleeper."

"What were the nightmares about?"

I pulled my knees up to my chest and hugged them tight. "To be honest, I don't remember all of them. Uncle Leon told me to forget them, and I did my best not to think of them. Tonight..." I swallowed hard. "It was like I got sucked into one of my nightmares. There was a man on top of me, just like Herndon was. I was little, so little, and he had a gun to my chin. He said he was going to kill me, and I knew he would do it. I was looking for a knife, trying to feel around on the floor for it, when I heard him click off the safety of his gun. Then Frankie slapped me, and I snapped out of it."

I didn't realize tears were streaming down my face until Byron leaned over and wiped them away with his thumb. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and squeezed me to his side. "And that's the nightmare you had when you were eight?"

"One of them."

"Where would a little girl get a nightmare like that?" Byron was a solver, had always loved puzzles of every kind, and I didn't want to become one of his puzzles. "Would you have seen that in a movie? What do you remember of your life before?"

I suddenly found it hard to breathe. I leapt to my feet and pushed Byron away. "It was just a stupid nightmare, Byron. Don't go all detective on me and try to make it something bigger than it is."

He nodded, but the look in his eyes was pity. I didn't need pity. I was the spoiled, baby girl in a family of boys. Nothing in my life deserved his pity. "Let me know if anything else happens, or if you have another nightmare."

I nodded, not able to lie to him with my words. No one needed to be privy to my nightmares, and I was fine. I'd be fine. "I should get back to the dorm."

"I'll walk you."

We walked back to the dorms in a companionable silence. The campus of Maple Ridge University in Southwest Virginia was well-lit, but numerous trees blocked out a lot of the light, making our walk over paved sidewalks feel a bit like a walk through the woods. The campus was dwarfed by the dark masses of the mountains rising up around it. Those mountains made me feel small and protected and at home. Byron hugged me at my suite door. "We're having a party tomorrow night. You should come. I can introduce you around."

"To more over-protective Neanderthals?" I asked. "I can take care of myself, you know."

Something in his face softened. "I know that. I've got the scars to prove it. But you're my little sister, and there are a lot of assholes out there. You're tough as hell, but you've never had a chance to be around other people, to get your heart broken, to be taken advantage of by losers. I don't want to see you hurt that way."

My first instinct was to get defensive, to argue, but the genuine concern on Byron's face stopped me. I put my hand on his cheek, and leaned in to kiss it. "I'm tough on the inside, too, and I've already made a few friends I trust. I'll be careful, I promise."

I studied until Frankie got back to our room, about an hour after I did. She'd been pretty before, but with a wide smile and cheeks reddened from an evening outside, she was gorgeous. A vivid, wild, warrior princess. I felt tired, pale, and empty in comparison. "Remy!" Frankie shrieked in her quiet way. "I did it. I won. I beat them all."

I put down my book, happy to have such a cheerful distraction from nightmares of death and gore. "How did you do it?"

"I took your advice. I was all sweet and shy, and then I pummeled them. They were so pissed."

I lifted my hand for a high-five, which she gave me. "That's so awesome! I bet Harrison was thrilled you brought his team to victory."

She dropped my gaze. "I, um, I took Harrison out, too."

"What? Why?"

"Well, after we won, he started acting really weird. A little bit pouty and standoffish. He said that I wouldn't have won without the rest of the team to back me up, so I ran into the forest and started taking out our team when they came after me to apologize for Harrison. Eventually, Harrison came to talk me down, and I took him out, too. I don't know what came over me, he just made me so mad."

I couldn't help my jaw dropping to my chest. "Wow, you really are a warrior princess."

Her grin widened. "I guess I forgot to mention that my dad used to take me hunting with him and taught me how to shoot. I don't think Harrison would have even given me a ride home, but Worthy showed up and he brought me home. He's really sweet."

"Sweet isn't the description he brings to mind," I said.

"Oh." She laughed. "Still mad at him about the fireman carry?"

I picked up my pillow and threw it in her face. "Is that funny?"

To my surprise, she didn't back down. "Yeah, it was funny. He was a perfect gentleman with me."

"Great," I said. "I guess I bring out the Neanderthal in him."

She shook her head. "I just can't get over how much fun that was. We should get all the girls together and have an all-girl team next time."

I raised my eyebrows. "You think we'll be invited back?"

She nodded, her smile going shy again. "Worthy said he'd make sure of it."

### CHAPTER THREE

I only had two classes Monday, and they were done before two, so I pulled on hiking boots and a small pack and headed out to try one of the many hiking trails within walking distance of the campus. I was about a block from forest land when I heard someone calling my name.

I turned to see Worthy trotting up to me. "You going for a hike?" he asked.

"Yep." I turned away and headed into the forest.

He walked with me. "I'll come with you. Just give me ten minutes to change and I'll meet you back here."

I glared at him, ignoring how cute he looked in his dark-washed jeans and a grey t-shirt that clung to him in all the right places, showing off a honed and fit body. "I don't remember inviting you," I said. "And you promised you'd stay far, far away from me."

He grimaced. "I shouldn't have said that. I was...upset. Look, you can't hike alone. It's not safe." He eyed me up, estimating my level of stubborn, I suspected. "If you don't let me tag along, I'll tell Byron where you are."

"I really don't like you at all," I said, rage bubbling over. I was finally free of constant supervision, and my cousin had his friends following me around. "Tell me, do you suck my cousin's dick whenever he asks, or are there limits?"

Worthy's face twisted, but he swallowed hard and got it under control. "And I'm the Neanderthal," he muttered, shaking his head. "Look, I promise you, Byron has nothing to do with this. I was planning to head out for a hike this afternoon, myself, and it's just a coincidence I ran into you. You can wait or you can listen to me whine about my blisters because I tried to hike in flip-flops, but I'm not going to let my friend's favorite cousin hike alone."

I took a deep breath, realizing getting angry would get me nowhere. "I'm an experienced hiker. I grew up in the mountains. I've got my cell phone. There's no reason to worry."

"Maybe I'm not worried," he said. "Maybe I want to go for a hike, and _I_ don't like to go alone." He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "The truth is, a good friend of mine was killed in a rock-climbing accident two years ago. If someone had been with him he might still be alive. I never hike alone, and I never let my friends hike alone."

That just about slayed me. I knew the forest could be dangerous. I'd had more than a few run-ins with snakes, bears, and even a couple of rabid raccoons. When I'd lived at home, my uncle had never let me go too far alone, and neither had he let any of my cousins. I wouldn't have been alone if Byron or any of my friends had been available to go with me, but I'd been too desperate to get outside to wait for any of them. I didn't handle being stuck inside very well, which was a big part of the reason I was going to major in biology and become a park ranger. "Okay, fine. But if you aren't back in exactly ten minutes, I'm leaving without you."

He smiled and my heart skipped a beat. He had the best smile. "I'll be back in eight."

He was back in seven. I started walking as soon as I saw him and he let me, hanging back to give me my space and not trying to make conversation. I really appreciated that in a hiking buddy. The trail started out easy, but quickly got more difficult as the elevation increased. I was breathing heavy by the third switchback, and I slowed my pace.

Worthy caught up to me then. "I know of a waterfall that's just a couple hundred yards off trail. I can show it to you, if you want."

I wanted to tell him to go stuff himself and his waterfall, but I liked the idea of learning the secrets of the forest and mountains around me. "Sure."

"You seem really comfortable in the woods," I said, as he led me off trail.

"Not as comfortable as you must be," he said. "I've seen Byron's pictures of your home."

"Uh-huh. I see what you did there. Why don't we try it again? How'd you get so comfortable in the woods? You grow up in the mountains?"

"No," he said. "But I've always liked being outside. I love the woods, hiking, and rock-climbing."

"So that's how you're going to play this? Man of few words about yourself. Man of mystery." Internally, I was already creating a story for him, based on my extensive life experience, by which I mean the books I'd read. Mostly biographies and non-fiction books about nature, the natural world, and outdoor sports. Probably not the most stable base on which to build my judgment of Worthy. So, I studied him, letting myself fall a step behind, as he moved sure-footedly through the forest.

He remained silent for a while. "There's no mystery," he said, so long after my own comment that it took me a minute to realize what he was talking about. "I'm not that interesting."

"I'm sure you're more interesting than me, I..." We stepped into a clearing and I forgot what I was going to say. Before us was a delicate, fairy-like waterfall that dropped from the height of about a three-story house. It could hardly be called more than a trickle, but the way the light hit it, creating rainbows, and the way it was framed by lush greenery, it was nothing short of magical. I just stared at it for several long moments, admiring its beauty, before I moved on to the flora around it to see how much of it I could name.

When I finally turned back to Worthy, feeling nothing but grateful to him, I caught him watching me. He quickly averted his eyes and took a step back, but I'd caught him. He was as curious about me as I was about him. He was probably trying to figure out how Byron and I could be even distantly related given his lack of charm and my innate grace and beauty, or he just wanted to see how a girl who grew up in the forest reacted to a waterfall. I didn't really care what he thought. I threw my arms around him and hugged him hard. "Thank you," I said. "It's wonderful."

He patted my back a couple times, before gripping my hips and placing me away from him. He smiled at me and butterflies swarmed to life in my stomach. I thought that only happened in books or when looking at pictures of Chris Hemsworth, but Worthy's smile was weak-knees making. "You're welcome," he said.

"Don't tell my cousin, but I miss it, you know? I miss the mountains at home, I miss the woods, and I miss my uncle. This secret waterfall makes me feel a little less homesick."

He cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable with my gushing. "Well, I'm glad I could help."

I turned away so he wouldn't see me roll my eyes at such a guy response. He spoke like he'd just helped me find cream of tartar at the grocery store.

"I come here sometimes," he said. "To study and watch the waterfall. It grounds me somehow."

I turned back to face him, put a hand over my heart, and gasped. I appreciated the sharing moment, but he'd left himself too wide open for me to ignore. "You mean you come out here alone? That's incredibly dangerous."

He met my gaze, his expression somber and sort of, well, heated in a way that was completely unexpected and made my heart beat a bit faster. "Next time, I'll call you," he said. "I have a feeling you'll be able to appreciate the solitude without trying to fill the empty spaces with annoying chatter."

"Aw, and there he is, Mr. charm. I'm shocked you don't have hundreds of girls clamoring to spend time in the woods with you."

He tried to scowl, but I saw the smile behind it. "On second thought," he said. "Maybe I'll just take the risk of being eaten by a bobcat."

I ignored him, sat on a boulder at the edge of the small ravine, and watched the waterfall. I don't know how much time passed before I felt his hand on my shoulder. "We should get back," he said. "It's going to be dark soon."

I followed him down the trail to campus in a comfortable silence. I was still enjoying the quiet joy I'd felt at seeing the waterfall and being in the woods, and I wasn't ready for anything to break the spell. As we stepped out of the woods, the sun was setting in an orangey, golden glow over the campus buildings and the hills behind. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, feeling so alive and calm in the face of all that natural beauty.

"That was really fun," I said to Worthy, who had stopped next to me. "We should do it again."

He gave me a small smile and nodded, but there was a sadness in his expression I hadn't seen before. "Sure, I'll let you know next time I go. And you let me know if you go. Don't hike alone."

I gave him a mock salute. "Sure, thing, Dad," I said in my best little kid voice. Worthy smirked and took a step away. My phone beeped. I only got texts from my uncle or my cousins, so I was going to ignore it, but Worthy was already walking away without a glance back.

I pulled my phone from my back pocket to see a text from Byron. "Suweet!" I said, before starting after Worthy at a jog. "Hey, wait up!"

He stopped and turned to look back at me. He didn't look pleased. "Did you forget something?"

"Relax," I said. "What crawled up your ass in the past two minutes?"

He shook his head and gave me a weak smile. "I'm sorry. Just thinking about a paper I have to write."

"You have a paper to write? Sucks to be you. I'm on my way to your place to play touch football."

Worthy tipped back his head and laughed.

"What's so funny?" I asked. "Shouldn't you be crying about missing out on all the fun? Or don't you like football?"

He gave me a wide-eyed look like I might be crazy. "No, I just think it's funny that Byron has warned all of the guys off dating you, but he's inviting you to a game of _touch_ football with that gang."

I stopped in my tracks, so shocked I just stood there for a minute opening and closing my mouth like a fish. "He did what?" I finally sputtered.

Worthy looked a bit like he wanted to turn and run away, like I might be about to go a little crazy. He had it all wrong, I was well past crazy. "I thought you already knew. I mean you said—"

"I said he'd been warning the guys off. Like, don't pick on my little cousin, or don't hook up with my cousin. Not don't date my cousin. What the hell does he think? He can keep me from having any social life at all?" Already my mind was whirring with anger and plots to get back at my cousin. Behind me, Worthy was saying something, but I didn't hear a word. I stomped along, trying to punch holes in the sidewalk with my feet.

"Wait," I said, stopping so suddenly Worthy ran into my back. I spun and put my hands on his shoulders. "What did he threaten them with?"

Worthy dropped his gaze to the pavement. "Remy, I think you should calm down, and—"

"Argh! Why do guys always say that? I don't want to calm down. I want you to tell me what Byron threatened them with." Not that I thought I was so irresistible those guys had to be threatened to resist asking me out, but my cousin loved throwing threats around. It was his lifeblood.

"Look, Remy, I'd love to tell you, but Byron—"

"Ah-ha," I said, poking him in the chest. "You're afraid of the threat. You're still afraid of my cousin."

He rolled his eyes. "I'm not going to tell you, Remy, so you can just—"

"Chicken," I said, standing on my toes and going nose to nose with him.

He swallowed hard. "Remy—"

"Bock, bock." I put my fists in my pits and did a little chicken strut. Then I crowed like a rooster. I do a really good rooster.

Worthy bit his lip and his face got red. Psychological warfare was so easy to use against men. They fell under its power every time. I was just about to crow again when Worthy ducked and swept my feet out from under me. He dropped me gently to the ground on my back and started tickling me.

I am embarrassingly ticklish and somehow Worthy knew it. He tickled me until I was gasping for air and wriggling like a puppy off the leash for the first time. "Uncle," I yelled.

"What was that?" he asked, laughter bouncing around his own words. "I can't hear anything over your screeches."

I had to say uncle three more times before he finally stopped. I was laughing and squirming so much, it took me a moment to realize his hands had stilled on me. His big, strong, warm hands had stilled on my ribs and he was staring down at me with melty amber eyes and a soft smile. The look on his face made my chest tighten, but before I could wonder what he was thinking, he leapt off me and offered me a hand up. I ignored his hand, stood with as much dignity as possible, adjusted my shirt and my shorts, and tried to force away the smile that had gotten stuck to my face somewhere in the middle of all the tickling. I brushed the grass and twigs out of my hair and the dusted off my clothes. When I finally looked up, Worthy's eyes were brown again and the vulnerability I'd seen on his face was gone.

"That was fun," I said. "But it doesn't change the fact that you're a chick—"

He lunged at me, and I turned and ran as fast as I could to Byron's frat house. One thing growing up with four older cousins taught me was how to outrun them all. I beat Worthy to Byron's and ran straight to my cousin, knowing that Worthy wouldn't attack me in front of Byron. Byron was standing on the large front lawn in front of their three-story, farmhouse-style frat house, surrounded by a group of about ten guys.

I wrapped an arm around Byron's broad shoulders, and tried to catch my breath. Worthy stopped when he reached us, put his hands on his knees, and dropped his head. "I want to be on her team," he said between gasps for air.

Byron looked back and forth between me and Worthy for a while, his frown deepening. "What happened to you two?" he finally asked.

I shrugged. "We just went out on a date. I was about to take Worthy back to my room and have my way with him when you texted me about the game."

Whatever air Worthy had gained was sucked back in the wrong way, and he started coughing so hard I was a bit worried about him. Byron, however, only had eyes for me. "You're lying."

I walked over and smacked Worthy on the back, hard. Hey, I was trying to help him out. "I'm not lying."

"You are," Byron said, finally smiling. "You've got a tell."

No, he did not. I stopped smacking Worthy's back and stepped up to my cousin. "You take that back. I don't have a tell. I'm a better liar than you any day of the week."

Byron put one strong hand on my shoulder and grinned at me, and I snapped. "I challenge you," I said.

Byron shook his head. "Sis, you don't want to do this."

"I do."

"Fine," he said. "What's the game?"

"Poker, tonight. After the football."

"Gotta date tonight, Sis. How about tomorrow?"

Something inside me boiled over. I was so sick of being babied and protected and caged. I was sick of being underestimated. "New challenge right now. Your threat against mine."

"Remy, I don't think—" Worthy said behind me.

"I don't care what you or anyone else thinks," I said. "This is about honor. I'm going to prove I don't have a freaking tell. Right now."

Byron looked at Worthy, then at me. "Fine. I don't know what you're going on about, but if it's that important to you, challenge accepted. After the game. We've been waiting all afternoon to have enough guys to play and half the guys here have to get to work in an hour."

I spit on my hand and extended it to Byron, he spit and we shook. Deal done. I was fired up and ready to play some serious ball at that point.

Worthy and Byron somehow got to be team captains, and Worthy did pick me for his team. I was over the moon excited to have an opportunity to go up against my cousin before the challenge. Worthy was the quarterback, because he'd played some ball in high school, and he picked me to be a running back. Pretty risky move, considering he'd never seen me catch a ball. I had to say I appreciated his belief in my unproven ability. So, I played hard for him. I ran hard, I caught hard, and I hit Byron hard every chance I got.

"This is touch football, Remington, not tackle," Byron said, after the third time I'd brought him to the ground by slamming into his knees.

"Man up, By," I said, as I climbed to my feet and patted his head. "Want me to go inside and get your pads for you?"

Unfortunately, my drive to sack Byron at all costs lost us the game point. Worthy seemed a bit miffed, but I figured he'd get over it.

After Byron and his team were done cheering about winning, they all started to wander off.

"Not so fast," I yelled. "We still have a challenge."

Byron and his buddies turned around, but no one moved toward me. "Didn't you get enough revenge on the field?" Byron asked, rotating his shoulder like he might actually be hurt.

"You ready to admit I don't have a tell?"

Byron shook his head, looking a bit like a sad puppy. I didn't buy it for a second. His cute baby-of-the-family tricks never worked on me.

"Then you and your friends get back over here and let's have this challenge."

The guys were ribbing Byron and pushing him around, but I ignored them.

"What's the challenge, Remington?" Byron asked. I could see the competitive drive in his eyes and I knew I had him.

I gave him my sweet as sugar, innocent, little girl smile. "It's like this, Byron. I understand you threatened these men with some sort of bodily harm if any of them dared to ask me out."

Byron glared in Worthy's direction, but Worthy just shrugged. "I didn't know it was a secret, man."

"I suggest we play it like this," I said. "We each state our respective threats and the boys here will stand in front of the person whose threat they fear the most. The winner is the one with the most believable threat."

Byron growled low in his throat. "I don't like this."

"Then make sure your threat is more believable, tough guy."

Byron glared at the men around us. They ranged from downright gorgeous to rather unfortunate, but none of them seemed to be wilting under my cousin's glare, which was a very good thing. "Okay, guys, we all know who you're going to side with here," he said, "but just in case you need some reminding, if any of you ask out, lust after, imagine naked, or flirt with my cousin, I will go into your room while you are sleeping and I will remove one of your testicles from your body."

I tried not to wince, but seriously, who would really believe he would do that? Of course, he wouldn't risk his career and his future by removing a man's testicle forcibly from his body, but Byron had been prone, since childhood, to making grandiose threats. I doubted anyone ever believed he'd follow through, but he was big enough and growly enough that people tended to back down even if they didn't believe his threats to the letter. I blamed his flair for the dramatic on his namesake. "Ooooh," I said with a mock shudder. "I know I'm scared. Now, fellas, here's my threat: I will whisper in the ears of all of my girlfriends that each of you has a venereal disease of one sort or another, and I will make sure they share that information with every girl they know, and on and on. The rumor will spread faster than fleas on a coon hound until every girl on campus knows that you are unclean."

The faces of several of the men paled and one guy started to sweat. "You're going to do that if we ask you out, lust after you, imagine you naked, or flirt with you?"

I smiled and shook my head. "No. You see, I've had a rather sheltered life and my cousin here would like my life to continue to be sheltered. That's not what I want. If you do _not_ ask me out on a date within the next—"

"Wait just one—" Byron said.

I held up my hand. "We spit on it, cousin mine." I waited for him to acknowledge the futility of argument and continued. "You each have fourteen days to schedule a date with me and take me out. If you do not, I will carry out my threat. Now gentlemen, whose threat are you going to bet on?"

Without any hesitation, all the guys lined up in front of me. I looked over at my cousin to commence gloating, but I noticed Worthy wasn't in my line. When I found him, standing off to the side, he just shook his head and smiled. "I don't believe either one of your threats, and I don't date anyone under duress."

I tried not to show my hurt. I knew we hadn't had the smoothest of meetings, but I thought we were friends, at least. I didn't think it would hurt him to show a little support and get coffee with me sometime. I pushed the hurt down and turned to my cousin, whose face was flaming red. I decided to give him some time to cool down and started setting dates with the ten guys lined up in front of me.

***

I knocked on Byron's door, my phone filled with ten new phone numbers and ten dates scheduled for the next two weeks. "Go away," he yelled at me.

I pushed the door open and stuck my head in. "You know I love you more than moon-pies, By-By."

"You have a funny way of showing it," he said, his tone sulky. At least he wasn't mad anymore.

"Maybe I shouldn't have done that so publicly, but you'd already made it public. I want to be normal, to fit in, to have a life. I want to date guys and have fun. I thought you understood that."

"There's a big difference between that and watching you go out with the assholes I hang out with."

"They can't be assholes if they're your friends," I said, putting an arm around his shoulders and hugging him close. He could act the part of coarse redneck when he wanted to, and he could even seem tough and scary to some people, but my cousin was nothing but a big old softy and he wouldn't put up with friends of his mistreating any woman.

"They're good guys for the most part, but there are a lot of assholes out there, Remington, and you've never had any experience with any kind of guys." He looked down at his lap and turned over his hands. "I told Dad he was making a mistake, not letting you go to school or anywhere at all, but he was so stubborn. I never understood..."

He looked at me, but I just shook my head. "I never understood it either, Byron, and believe me we had our share of knockdown, drag-out fights about it. I was willing to be homeschooled, if he would just let me go out and be around other people every so often, to join a church group or the girl scouts, something, anything, but he always refused. I swear..." I stopped myself, not wanting to voice my fears aloud.

"What?"

"He seemed to be getting worse last year. The paranoia and the...the anxiety. He woke me up three times a week, worried someone was trying to break into the house."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Byron asked.

"You were doing so well at school and I didn't want to worry you. Plus, he's so convincing, By, that I started to believe there might really be something going on. Someone giving him trouble at the shop or something. It got to where I stopped asking to go to college because _I_ was afraid to leave _him_ alone. Then one day, he just up and changed his mind completely, said it was time for me to go."

"I thought you told him you were twenty and he couldn't stop you," Byron said, his smile softening the anger I heard behind his words. Whatever his faults, Uncle Leon was a good man, and none of us wanted to see him hurt.

"Yeah, I might have said that, too, but I wouldn't have left him like that. He told me I had nothing to worry about and it was time for me to go out and see the world."

"Thought you were going to follow in his footsteps and be a mechanic."

I shrugged, because I wouldn't have minded that life. I liked working on cars and I loved the mountains. I would have even been able to meet people, working in his shop. "I thought that was the only way I was going to get out of the house, but he said he didn't want that life for me, that I deserved better. He was almost to the point of pushing me out the door, he was so adamant on me getting out of the house and going to college. Of course, I had to go to Maple Ridge University, but at lease he let me go somewhere."

Byron's brow crinkled, but he shook it off. "Well, you're here now and that's what matters. So, I'm going to give you a crash course in staying safe around college men."

I left Byron's room a half hour later, my head swimming with dating advice, from 'don't go back to a guy's room alone' to 'don't ever leave your drink unattended' to 'just pretend you don't hear it if your date farts.' I was a bit intimidated and a bit amused and very glad I had Byron's friends to practice dating on. I don't like to admit to being scared of anything and I know I'm tough and strong, but some of the scenarios Byron painted were downright frightening. I sort of hoped he was just exaggerating to keep me single, but the sincerity in his eyes was hard to ignore.

I was lost in those thoughts when a heavy hand landed on my shoulder. It was dark and I was alone, so I spun and raised my hands in a fighting position. I stopped myself before I rammed the side of my hand into Worthy's throat. He raised his hands and took a step back. "Calm down, ninja warrior, Byron asked me to walk you home."

I sighed. "It's three blocks and I have pepper spray. There was no reason for me to disturb his phone call." Worthy didn't need to know I'd snuck out as soon as Byron's phone rang, because I was desperate to avoid his lecture on safe sex.

Worthy shrugged. "Then you're an idiot. You can be the strongest woman in the world and there will still be a man out there stronger than you. It's just biology and physics. Don't give Byron a reason to worry and don't walk home alone at night."

I could have picked a fight with him over his bossy tone, but I was tired, and I knew he was right. "Why didn't he come himself?"

"He was still on the phone, and I saw you leaving on your own. I made an executive decision."

"Who was he talking to anyway?" As far as I knew all of Byron's friends lived in the frat house with him, and I was curious about his life. Just not curious enough to hang around for the sex talk.

Worthy stared off into the dark night. "Your uncle."

"Well, then let's walk." We started off into the night and I did my best not to look at Worthy, but I could smell him and he smelled good, clean and minty, with just a light spattering of cologne underneath. I couldn't help looking at him as we passed under a streetlight. His hair was damp and he'd changed into a light colored t-shirt and sweatpants that hung low on his hips. I wanted to ask him to stop and stand still so I could stare at him for a little while, but I thought that might be weird. Apparently, recently showered men really did it for me.

The third time I checked out Worthy, he caught my eye and smiled, like he knew exactly what I was doing. After the way he hadn't asked me out, I was in no mood to allow him to think I had the hots for him. Which I totally did not. I mean he might be adorable and outdoorsy and chivalrous, but he was still a big jerky Mcjerkerson. "You have a little something," I said, pointing to my forehead.

He just kept walking and smirking like he knew what I was doing.

"Wow, you must have a lot confidence to walk around with a big spot of moisturizer on your forehead. I mean it looks a little bit like—"

He spun and stepped so close to me that our noses were almost touching. I stared up into his eyes, gone melty amber in the dim light, and found it suddenly hard to breathe. "What does it look like?" he asked. His voice was all low and rough and it did things to me. It warmed me in places no man had ever touched.

I swallowed hard. "It looks like..." I couldn't say it. "Like moisturizer." I reached up and pretended to wipe it off his forehead. His eyes closed at my touch and I swear he stopped breathing for a moment.

Suddenly, all I could see was his lips, and all I could think about was kissing him.

He stepped back and the spell broke, but I could still smell him, all around me. I wanted to drown in his scent.

We walked the rest of the way back to my dorm in silence, and I didn't look at him again until we'd stopped at my door. "Well, thanks," I said. "I guess I'll see you in class tomorrow."

He stopped me with a hand on my upper arm. "Remy," he said, his voice all deep and warm and rumbly again. "Will you do me the honor of going out to dinner with me?"

My heart stopped beating, and I found it suddenly hard to breathe. I thought I was ready for college and dating, but no one had warned me about the breathing problems. Unless that was just me. Maybe I had an undiagnosed heart and lung problem, or maybe it had been diagnosed and no one had told me. Maybe that's why my uncle and cousins were so overprotective.

"Remy," Worthy said. He leaned in and ran a finger along my cheekbone, so gently it was like a whisper on my flesh, and I felt that touch through my whole body. "Are you okay?"

I put a hand on my heart without thinking. I almost asked Worthy about the breathing thing, but I thought better of it when his mouth quirked up into a concerned smile. I didn't need anyone else worrying about me. "Why?" I asked. I know it wasn't the sophisticated, cool answer, but I was dying to know what had changed his mind.

He studied me for a long moment, not put out in the least by my blunt question. "Because I've spent too long doing the smart, sensible thing. I should walk away, I should pretend I've never seen you, but there's just something about you that makes it impossible for me to look away."

I wasn't sure whether I should be insulted or complimented. "Um, so what you're saying is that dating me is the dumb, irrational choice?"

He grinned. "That's exactly what I'm saying. Want to be dumb and irrational with me?"

Irrationally, I found that I did want that. "Yes. I mean sure, that would be nice."

"When?"

"What?"

He leaned in closer, amusement dancing in his eyes. "It seems you have a packed schedule of dates for the next couple of weeks. When do you think you might be able to fit me in?"

I pulled out my phone and checked my calendar, taking a couple of steps back from him while I did. It was easier to think with some space between us. "How about Sunday night? No one's got Sunday night."

"I'll pick you up at seven."

He touched my cheek again and then he left. I took a few moments to calm my breathing and went to ask Frankie if she thought I had a heart problem.

### CHAPTER FOUR

" _Get down, baby girl," Daddy said. He pushed me down on the seat and kissed the top of my head. "I'll be right back out."_

It was dark and I was so tired. I wanted to be in my own bed, but daddy was never right back out, so I curled up on the back seat of the car and tried to sleep. My toes were cold in my favorite pink cowboy boots, so I wrapped my arms around my knees and tried to snuggle myself all warm. I didn't like to be alone in the car in the dark and I wanted my daddy back, but I knew it wouldn't do any good to cry or yell for him. It would only make him mad and bring a bunch of men with angry faces out of the building.

I was drifting off to sleep when I heard men yelling and doors slamming. Something banged against the door my head lay against and the whole car shook. I tried to make myself smaller, to become invisible, because daddy had told me not to let anyone see me. Not to make a sound, no matter what happened. There were a couple more thumps against the car and then the men started laughing and stomped away. Silence reigned again in the dark night and I peeped out the window to see if I was truly alone again.

At first, I didn't understand what I saw. His face was so swollen and bloody he didn't look like my daddy. Why was that man lying on the cold concrete and not moving? When I realized it was Daddy and he was hurt, I wanted to scream and cry, but I was afraid of the men with their angry voices and grating laughter. I eased the door open and crawled out next to my father. "Daddy," I whispered. My eyes burned, but I didn't cry. Daddy didn't like it when I cried. I had to be strong. "Daddy?"

He groaned and rolled his head toward me. "Hey, darlin'. I'm fine, okay. I just need a minute to catch my breath and then I'll get in the car. I'm going to need you to drive, sugar."

" _I can't reach the pedals," I said. The concrete was hard and cold beneath my knees and the smell of blood and beer made my stomach hurt. I wanted to go home and crawl into bed. I wanted to wake up and have a daddy who wasn't hurt, who didn't do bad things._

" _I'll control the pedals," he said, his words slurring a bit. "You just need to keep a watch and steer us home, okay."_

" _Okay, daddy. Okay." He'd shown me how to drive like that before. He'd said it was just for fun, but Daddy never did anything just for fun. He was always training me. Always teaching me to be tough and strong and self-something. I had to be, since Mommy had gone away and left us. I waited for the bloody man who looked nothing like my daddy to pull himself into the driver's seat and then I scrambled in and sat on his lap, trying not to think about the blood that was now dripping from him onto my favorite Hello Kitty sweatshirt._

"Remy." Someone was shaking me, but I couldn't let them distract me from what I needed to do. I needed to get Daddy home. "Remy. Wake up."

I cracked open my eyes to see Frankie peering down at me. "I'm sorry to wake you, but you were crying in your sleep, and since you have class in twenty minutes anyway, I thought..."

It took me a moment to pull myself out of the dream. "No, that's good. Thank you."

Frankie nodded, but she still looked worried. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah. Just a weird dream about my dad," I said. "I don't know why I was crying. I wasn't crying in the dream."

Frankie sat on my bed and curled her feet under her. "Do you remember your dad?" she asked, then she slapped a hand over her mouth. "I'm sorry that was nosy."

"It's okay. I was eight when I moved in with my uncle so I should remember my dad, but I don't." I pushed the blanket off my legs and stood. "I haven't had a dream about him since I first moved in with Uncle Leon. I used to have dreams about him all the time back then, all bizarre and horrible like the one I just had, but Uncle Leon always told me they couldn't possibly be real, because my father was a good man, an accountant." I stood and stretched, trying to shake off the fear and loss the dream had conjured.

"And what is he in your dreams?" Frankie asked.

"A bad man," I said, meeting her gaze and not flinching. It felt good to talk to someone else about the dream, like I could talk it away. "A very bad man."

***

I was still feeling creeped out and saddened by the dream when I got to biology class that morning. I sat next to Harrison, who gave me a big smile. "Well, well," he said. "If it isn't freak-out girl."

My stomach roiled, but subsided just as quickly. I always preferred teasing to sympathy or worry. "Really?" I asked. "You've had four days and that's the best you could come up with?"

Harrison laughed. "How about zone-out girl?"

I shook my head. "And I thought you were smart. You wouldn't be calling me anything but Remy, or maybe hot girl, if your creepy friend hadn't tackled me."

Harrison smirked. "He's not my creepy friend, he's his." He inclined his head past me, and I saw Worthy moving down the aisle. He sat next to me and took in both of our expressions.

"What?" he asked.

I had to suppress a little flutter of happiness at his choosing to sit next to me. It was our second biology class of the week, but I'd been late on Tuesday and had to sneak in and sit all alone in the back. "Decided to brave my cousin's wrath?" Yes, he'd asked me out on a date, but so had half of his fraternity brothers, choosing to sit with me felt like he was crossing a new line.

Worthy shrugged, a smile tugging his lips. "Maybe I've just decided you're scarier than he is." He leaned over me to talk to Harrison, his forearm brushing my thigh. "You should have seen her tackle Byron the other day."

Harrison laughed. "I would pay money to see that."

"Is this backwards day?" I asked. "You aren't afraid of Byron anymore, and you and Harrison are chummy?"

Worthy sat up and stretched, his big thigh pressing into mine and shooting millions of little happy sparks through my body. When he'd settled, his thigh still pressed against mine, he looked at me. "For the record, I was never afraid of Byron, I was respectful of his wishes. And Harrison and I are chummy now because we've finally found one thing we have in common."

His words raised so many questions I wasn't sure where to begin. I opened my mouth and the professor started speaking. Damn it. Worthy chuckled at my expression and started taking notes as the professor spoke. Unlike most of the other students, myself included, Worthy took notes the old-fashioned way, with a notebook and pen. I leaned over and tried to scribble a note on his paper, but he scowled and pushed my hand away.

I looked to Harrison, but he ignored me, staring straight ahead. I opened the IM function on my laptop, but realized I didn't actually have Harrison's contact information, a horrible oversight on my part. I tapped him on the arm until he looked at me and raised my eyebrows. "Later" he mouthed.

Left with no other options, I leaned back in my seat and paid attention to the professor. The lecture was about cell structure and the metabolic processes, and was all stuff I'd learned in high school, but fascinating none the less. I never minded a refresher and the professor had a lot of energy and a clear love for the subject. I loved the terminology and imagining all the activity going on in my own body at the cellular level. Yeah, I'm a total nerd, big deal.

After class, I walked out with Worthy and Harrison, my brain so full of biology I almost forgot my questions. Harrison waved and started to head off, but I grabbed his arm. "Wait, just a second," I said. "What is this common ground you two have found?"

Harrison looked at me like I was an idiot. "You, Remy. Will you let go of my arm now?"

I let go of him and he smiled and took off to parts unknown. I turned my attention to Worthy. "What does that mean?"

He gave me a teasing smile. "It's pretty straightforward, just think about it."

So, I did, and he was right, it was pretty straightforward. "You both want to be friends with me, so you've declared a truce?"

He laughed. "Harrison and I were never fighting, we just weren't BFFs as the tween girls say."

I punched him in the shoulder for that comment and he laughed again.

"And what about my cousin? You no longer respect his wishes?"

"Byron and I have also reached an agreement."

I eyed him. "What? That you're my new bodyguard?"

Worthy stopped walking and looked at me. His gaze was serious and heated, and I had to force myself not to look away. "Bodyguard isn't the role I'm looking to fill."

I couldn't help it, I burst out laughing.

Worthy laughed with me, and looked a bit sheepish. "That came out sounding a lot dirtier than I'd intended."

I wiped tears of laughter from my eyes and smiled at him. "So, you did intend for it to sound dirty?"

He scowled. "No, I meant it to sound flirtatious. Sweet."

His sincerity stopped my breath. "You were trying to flirt with me?"

He gave me a small smile. "Not very well, but yeah. Is it working?"

I couldn't help smiling back at him, and nodding. "Maybe. You made me laugh and that's more important than good flirting."

He grinned and we started walking again.

"I am curious, though," I said. "I mean you're how old? Twenty? Twenty-one? How did you not get better at flirting?"

"I—"

"You were a barbarian when I met you. Was your preferred method of picking up girls more along the lines of dragging them back to your room by their hair?"

I hadn't forgotten what he'd said about him not having to drag any girls back to his room, because they came to him, but I couldn't help teasing him. It was in my DNA.

"You know," he said, pretending to look at his watch. "I've really got to get to class. My embarrassment quota for the day has been met."

I grabbed his arm and dragged him back. "Wait, I have one more question."

He pulled away. "I don't think I can handle another one of your questions."

I yanked him back and he must not have been resisting very much, because he was suddenly slam against me, his mouth inches from mine.

"What?" he said, his voice a bit rough.

"Is Worthy your real name?"

"No," he said. "My name is Lawrence Hayworth. My friends call me Worthy."

I was having trouble breathing, but I managed to get out one more question. "And what do your enemies call you?"

He smiled with his eyes, but his mouth was serious, and I couldn't stop looking at his mouth and wishing...

Then his mouth was on mine, and his lips were firm and soft, warm and masculine. I was marveling at the feel of those amazing lips, when he ran his tongue along my lips and I shivered. I opened my mouth in a gasp at the sensation, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss. I let him take the lead for a few moments, but when he tried to pull away before I was ready, I nipped his top lip. He moaned and kissed me again, a bit more desperately.

Some idiot walking by wolf-whistled and I jumped away from Worthy, startled by the sound. Worthy laughed. His eyes were warm, and he took my hand as we started walking again. "I was going to wait to do that until after our date, in the spirit of respecting your cousin and all that."

"I'm glad you didn't wait," I said. "I can't imagine a more perfect first kiss." The words slipped out without thought, but I wasn't sorry I'd said them. I wanted Worthy to know me.

"So that was the best first kiss you've had?" he asked.

"That was the _first_ first kiss I've ever had."

He stopped and stared at me, stunned. "How is that possible?"

I chewed on my lower lip for a moment, considering my answer. "I was homeschooled."

"You were homeschooled," he echoed, looking a bit dazed. "And you weren't allowed to date?"

I started walking again. "Hey," I said, looking around for something, anything to distract Worthy. "Did you see that red car that just went by? That was a really, um, red car." Really, I knew a lot about cars, but there was nothing interesting to say about the car that went by.

"Remy," Worthy said. "You weren't allowed to date?"

"It, um, it never really came up."

Worthy's eyes widened, which I only knew because I caught sight of them as I was swinging my head around wildly, looking for more distractions. "It never really came up," he said.

"Is there an echo out here?" I tried to laugh, but it came out as more of a grunt. I really didn't want to be having this conversation with Worthy. I didn't want him to know how socially inexperienced I was, and I didn't want him to question my uncle's judgment. I might not have met other kids, but I read books and watched T.V., so it's not as though I was kept completely hidden away from the rest of the world. I knew my upbringing was unusual, but I wasn't abused and I'd never want anyone to think I was.

Worthy faced me. "I don't mean to make you uncomfortable, Remy. It's just that you're gorgeous and you're fun and you're funny. I think it's one of the worst ideas I've ever had to date Byron's little cousin of whom he is extremely overprotective, and I couldn't not ask you out. I couldn't not kiss you. You are irresistible. So, I'm just having a hard time understanding how you've never dated before."

"I didn't go out much." I couldn't tell Worthy the whole truth, I just couldn't. "I was home-schooled, and we lived way up in the mountains, pretty far from everyone else. So, I didn't get close to anyone except my cousins. It's not a big deal, it's just the way it was."

Worthy nodded and started walking with me again. "But Byron wasn't homeschooled, was he?"

I shook my head. "None of my cousins were. Not past fourth grade, anyway. I'm meeting Frankie for lunch, I should go." I turned and started walking in the other direction having no idea where I was going.

"Hey," Worthy said, jogging up beside me. "Did I say something wrong?"

What could I say to that? That nothing he said was wrong, that I was the one who was wrong? That the oddities about my life I'd done so well ignoring couldn't be ignored when he, with his normal suburban childhood, asked me about them, pointed them out? I couldn't say any of that, so I gave him a cheery smile. "I'm fine. I just don't want to be late. Frankie worries when I'm late." I was really reaching for straws, now.

"Okay." He took a step back and he gave me a half-smile. "I'll see you Sunday night."

"Yeah, okay," I said, but for the first time, I wondered what the hell I was doing trying to date anyone when I wasn't even prepared to answer the sort of questions about my life that any normal person would ask.

***

Strangely, Ronald Graves the third didn't ask me anything about my childhood or my home. Instead, he sat across from me at the coffee shop, over two coffees and two blueberry muffins, and told me stories about women he knew who'd gotten stupid drunk, done stupid shit, and regretted it in the morning.

After the third story, I figured out that my "date" was actually a precautionary tale orchestrated by my cousin. Which was a shame, because Ronald Graves the third, while suffering from a bit of a beer gut and an inability not to check out every girl who walked by, wasn't bad looking and he had a flair for storytelling that captivated me even as I got progressively more annoyed.

"Sounds like fun," I said, interrupting his story about a woman who'd gotten drunk and danced on the table at his frat house, topless, while people clicked pictures with their phones.

Ronald Graves the third stopped speaking and started to look worried. "I don't think you understand, Remy. Guys posted those pictures on the In-ter-net and everyone saw them. Michelle was horrified and embarrassed. It was _not_ fun."

I shrugged. "Maybe not the pictures part, but the dancing on the table part, that sounds fun. You ever tried it?"

Ronald Graves the Third swallowed hard and looked around nervously. I might have felt bad, but come on, he brought it on himself. "No," he said. "And I don't want to. It's...it's dangerous, and—"

"You are absolutely right, Ronald Graves the Third, we _should_ try it."

"What?" Ronald Graves the Third was turning slightly green. "No. I didn't say—"

"It's okay. I'll find us a party." I pulled out my cell phone, ignoring Ronald Graves the Third's sputtering protests, and dialed Harrison.

"Remy, Remy, Remy," he said. "Aren't you out on a date?"

"Who have you been talking to?" I asked.

"I have ears everywhere. What's all that noise in the background?"

"That, Harrison, is my date Ronald Graves the Third. He is super excited because he wants to party, and I told him you'd know where there's a party."

"I'm getting a bad feeling about this," Harrison said.

"What's to feel bad about? We're young and free and looking to party. Life is good."

"Right. Listen, Remy, I'd do anything for you, but Byron is one scary motherfucker, so if he asks, you did not get this information from me."

"Understood. What's the intel?"

Harrison chuckled. "It's Thursday night, so there's not a whole hell of a lot going on, but there's a bar down on college boulevard and they have dollar well drinks on Thursdays. That's going to be your most happening place tonight."

"And for those of us without fake IDs?" I asked. I was two months away from being twenty-one and that was one birthday that couldn't come fast enough.

"No problem. You can get in as long as you're over eighteen. You just have to be twenty-one to drink."

"Perfect. Thank you, party king."

I hung up and grinned at Ronald Graves the Third. "It's time to party."

We got to the bar, a small, dark space beneath a restaurant, just after eight-o-clock, and we were pretty much the only people there. "Where is everyone?" I asked.

Ronald Graves the Third looked at me like I was crazy, but he'd been looking at me that way for the past half hour. Might have had something to do with me body checking him when I caught him trying to call my cousin. "It's eight on a Thursday night. The thirsty hordes probably won't show up until ten."

"'Thirsty hordes,'" I said, shaking my head. "So young, and already so jaded."

Ronald Graves the Third shrugged. "When I'm not being coerced into dating freshman, I'm a bartender. I work with Worthy just down the street."

I gave him a sweet smile, which bounced off him like a rubber ball, and ignored the urge to pump him for more information about Worthy. "There's no coercion here, Ronald Graves the Third. The date's officially over, you can leave any time you like."

He glared at me. "For the last time, my name is Ron."

I just laughed. He was Ronald Graves the Third, his attitude and his prudery insisted on him being called by his entire name. "Well, Ronald Graves the Third, if you're going to insist on hanging out with me like a dark raincloud, how about a game of pool?"

He shrugged and followed me to the table. I racked them and let him get the first couple of shots, before I took over the table and showed him how pool is supposed to be played.

"This night just keeps getting better and better," Ronald Graves the Third said.

I leaned in and squeezed his cheeks. "Aww, don't tell me Ronald Wonald is a sore loser."

"I hate you," he said, but there was no real venom in his tone, and I was pretty sure I saw a tiny hint of amusement in his eyes.

An arm landed on my shoulders and I looked up to see Harrison. "Remy, will you please stop torturing poor Ron, here? He called and begged us to rescue him."

I glared at Ronald Graves the Third. "You called Harrison? When did you even have the chance?"

"When you were whipping my ass. You were concentrating pretty hard on the table." Ronald Graves the Third took a step back. "And I didn't call Harrison, I called him."

I turned and looked over Harrison's shoulder to see Worthy leaning against a support pillar and smirking. Next to him was Frankie, looking uncomfortable. I looked at Harrison. "What is she doing here?"

"Don't start," Harrison said. "She wanted to come."

"How did she even know where I was? Was she out with you when I called?"

"It's not like that. You were right about her, I'm not about to make any kind of play on her."

"I didn't mean—"

"Your date left," Harrison said. I turned to see Ronald Graves the Third hightailing it out of the bar.

"You know, the purpose of a date is not to torture the poor dolt who works up the nerve to ask you out," Harrison said.

"Really?" I asked, tilting my head to the side. "What is the purpose of a date, then, sensei? Because Ronald Graves the Third seemed to think the purpose of a date is to warn your date about the dangers of alcohol abuse." I turned my attention to Worthy. "Know anything about that?"

"Alcohol abuse?" Worthy asked.

"Cute. You know what I mean."

Worthy walked to the table and started pulling balls from pockets and racking them. "I told Byron he needed to back off, and he chose not to listen to me. I say if the guys are too afraid of Byron to treat you to a real date, then they fully deserve whatever torture you dish out."

Frankie walked over and stood next to me. "He was kind of stuck in a hard place," she said. "He was probably just trying to help you out of respect for Byron."

"Uh-huh," I said. I watched as Harrison tried to take a shot and completely missed the cue ball, hitting a solid red ball, instead. "So, let me get this straight. Ronald Graves the Third called Worthy. Worthy needed back-up, so he called Harrison, and Harrison called Frankie because..."

Worthy sunk two balls and walked over to me. "I called Harrison because I didn't want to look like a dick walking in here and ruining your date." He stepped up to me until only a breath of air separated us. "You know how I feel about you, and I didn't want you to think I was interrupting your date out of jealousy."

"How do you feel?" I asked.

He lowered his voice. "I want to kiss you right now, and I hated the idea of you being out with anyone but me."

"So, ask me not to date any of those other guys." Even as the words left my mouth I knew that if he did that any relationship that might exist between us would end.

"No," he said. "You should date them all, and if you choose me at the end, we'll both know it's a fair choice."

I gave him a sunny smile. I was really starting to like Worthy.

"Besides, I know they're all too afraid of Byron to make an actual move on you."

I scowled, wanting to be angry, but too secretly thrilled by his words to be really mad. I took a small step back. "So, you called Harrison and he called Frankie?"

Worthy nodded. "No reason to end your night out, so I brought your friends to you."

"I tried to talk Bell into coming out, too," Frankie said. "But she was involved in an intense Skype conversation with her sisters."

"Um, okay," I said, pretty sure I had the best friends in the world, and wondering how I'd gotten so lucky to find them in my second week at college. "Well, I want to dance on a table, who's in?"

Harrison clapped me on the back. "Why don't we at least wait until the dance music starts."

We finished three games of pool and Worthy excused himself to use the restroom. When he returned, pounding bass filled the small club, even though there were only about fifteen people in the place, and it was still early. "What did you do?" I asked.

Worthy smiled. "I told them there was a girl here who wanted to dance on a table, so they agreed to start the music. They can't blast it full volume while the restaurant upstairs is open, but it should be enough to get you dancing."

Suddenly, I felt a little nervous. I'd danced at home in my room before, sure, and I'd danced at that party at Worthy's friends place, but I'd been just one body in a crowd of bodies. I'd never danced in front of a bunch of strangers on top of a table, in full view, with nothing to hide behind. The time or two my cousins had seen me dance, they'd laughed and teased me. I'd kicked their asses, of course, but it didn't make me feel better. Despite all of the seasons of So You Think You Can Dance I'd watched, I was pretty sure I wasn't a natural.

"Come on," Frankie said, taking my hand. "Let's start on the dance floor."

I followed her to what was little more than a ten-by-ten area of empty floor, and tried not to gape as she started moving her body to the music. The last time I'd seen her dance, there hadn't been a lot of room to move, but with that wide-open dance floor, Frankie really got into it. The girl could dance. And I couldn't take my eyes off the way her body just flowed to the music. Harrison stepped in front of me and broke my trance. He started dancing with Frankie, being a total goofball and not making any effort to dance for real.

I took a step toward the dance floor, but I couldn't go any farther. I took a step back and swallowed hard, trying to find my usual calm. I wasn't afraid of anything, not anything. I must have been standing in something sticky.

"Never danced in public before?" Worthy asked, his voice gentle, his breath warm on my ear.

"Just add it to the list," I said, suddenly wanting to punch myself in the face for my stupid idea about dancing on a table. Which had actually been Ronald Graves the Third's idea. I should punch him.

"Come on," Worthy said, pushing me forward. "I'll dance with you."

"I don't really think—"

But his arms came around my waist and he pulled me tight against him, and I forgot what I'd been about to say. I lifted my arms and let my fingers tangle in his hair. "This better?" he asked. He started to move with the music, and I followed his lead as well as I could. He was holding me so close and so tight, it was hard to move much at all.

"Is this really considered dancing?" I asked.

He looked down at me and I saw something like sympathy flash in his eyes, before he smiled and amusement took its place. "You want more space?"

"No. I like it," I said, because I did and I didn't want him to stop, no matter how much it revealed about me.

We danced like that for two songs and I was pretty confident I wanted to spend the rest of my life right there, in his arms, when Frankie grabbed my elbow and pulled me away from Worthy. He let me go with a laugh and it was like I'd been underwater while I was dancing with him and I was suddenly jolted back into the world of sound and sight. Frankie laughed and started jumping up and down and I followed her lead, her energy and enjoyment infectious. I'd never heard the song, some poppy tune that lent itself to jumping and being silly.

The next song was slower, and Frankie moved closer to me, raising her arms and shimmying. Again, I followed her lead.

Some guy jumped between us and started dancing with Frankie. She sent me a pained look over his shoulder, but she was too polite to say anything. When he put his hands on her hips, I grabbed his shoulder and pulled. "She doesn't want to dance with you."

He scowled at me, his face red with drunkenness. "She can tell me that herself."

"I'm telling you," I said. "Find someone else to dance with."

"You going to stop me?"

Normally, I don't like to let guys fight my fights, but I was a big fan of easy solutions, and the memory of the last belligerent drunk guy who'd been unable to take a hint was still too fresh. I grabbed the guy by the ear and steered his head around until he could see Worthy and Harrison, who'd moved to the edge of the dance floor and were glaring at the guy. "No, but they will."

I let go of the guy and he moved on like it was his idea. I sent Harrison and Worthy a high five and got a warm grin from Worthy in return.

After having to beat off three more guys in like manner, one for Frankie and two for me, I had a revelation. "It all makes sense now," I yelled to Frankie over the music. Then I grabbed her hand and pulled her up onto the nearest unoccupied table with me. She laughed and kept dancing, and I danced with her. There was only room for the two of us on the tabletop and, though we were subjected to plenty of wolf whistles, we were able to dance in relative peace.

At least, we were able to dance until one of the waiters told us to get off the table. Apparently they frowned on that sort of thing, despite the DJ's willingness to start the music when promised girls dancing on tables. We danced on the floor until the crowd got too drunk and rowdy and everything became less fun. When we got off the dance floor, only Harrison was there to greet us. Worthy had only been able to meet us because he'd gotten someone to cover his shift, at the sports bar where he worked as a bartender, for an hour and he had to get back to work.

### CHAPTER FIVE

"Heard about what you did to Ron," my second date, Bryce, said. He reminded me a lot of my cousin Barrett, burly, gruff, and easygoing as long as things went his way.

I took a bite of my pizza and shrugged.

"I think it's funny as hell," he said in a thick accent. "I told Byron you wouldn't cotton to him trying to tighten your reigns."

I just stared at him for a long moment. "Are you for real? I mean, your third year pre-law and you honestly expect me to believe talking like that still comes natural to you." I knew the difference between talking like you'd never left the country, and talking like someone who'd been out of the country for a while. I'd seen the change happen to each of my cousins, as they'd gone off to college and started their careers in big cities.

Bryce laughed. "I like you, Remy," he said, his voice losing some of the southern lilt. "I like to put on the south, as I call it, when I first meet someone new. People tend to show more of their true colors when they think you're dumber or more backward than them. Plus, you seemed to like the country lingo with that coon dog and flea expression the other day."

I smiled. "I love those weird expressions, though I made that one up on the fly. And you just sound like home to me. Where are you from?"

"Not too far from you as the crow flies, Western North Carolina."

I nodded, like I was familiar with the area. Of course, I knew where it was geographically, but I didn't know anything about it, except that it was mountainous.

Bryce gave me a smile that probably melted many panties, but I felt nothing. "So, you and Worthy, huh?"

My radar perked up, sensing trouble. "Me and Worthy what?"

"You two are together."

"Not that I'm aware of. Did he tell you that?"

Bryce dropped his attention to his calzone, probably sensing from my tone that he was treading in dangerous waters. "I'm not saying anyone told me anything."

"If no one told you anything, how'd you figure I was with Worthy?" Grrr, I was beginning to think dating my cousin's friends wasn't worth the trouble. As much fun as it was to antagonize Byron, I didn't like him or his frat brothers meddling in my life.

Bryce raised his hands and leaned back. "Let's just say I got the impression Worthy's staked a claim on you. I've been advised to play along with your dating game, but nothing more."

"Really?" I could push him for more information, but I didn't think it was necessary. Either Worthy or Byron was responsible, and I had my own ways of getting answers. "You know, Bryce, I really appreciate your honesty. After tonight you may be the only one I'm friends with in your house."

Bryce grinned, but shook his head. "Just don't get me in the middle of it. I've got two sisters, so I understand where the guy's coming from, but I can also see your point of view. If you need me to try to talk some sense into him, just let me know."

"Thanks," I said, but I was only half-listening, already plotting.

***

I lay on my bed, my head on Bell's lap, while Frankie ransacked my closet. Between studying, dating, and the morning shift at the campus cafeteria, I was feeling a bit exhausted and wishing I could just go out with Worthy in my pajamas. Maybe he would be willing to make our date a movie in the dorm room night? "I really wish you'd let me take you shopping," Frankie said, again. She'd said the same thing when she'd help me get ready for my dates with Ronald Graves the third and Bryce.

"When I have some money," I said, again. Bell snickered above me, but her nose was in a book and there was no way to be sure if she was laughing at me and Frankie or at her book.

Frankie glanced at Bell and irritation crossed her face, but she would never say aloud that she was annoyed with Bell for reading while she struggled to create a date-worthy outfit from my unsatisfactory wardrobe. "I would let you wear something of mine, but..."

"I'm four inches taller than you and I don't have your curves. You can say it, Frankie, it won't hurt my feelings."

Frankie's eyes widened. "Why would it? You have a gorgeous body, like an athletic supermodel. It's just that I want you to look really nice for your date with Worthy."

"He won't care if she's wearing a paper bag," Bell said, without looking up from her book. "Have you seen the way he looks at her?"

"How does he look at me?"

"Like you're a first edition, mint-condition, signed Ursula K. Le Guin."

"What?" I asked.

Bell shook her head and gave me a disappointed look. I rolled my head to look at Frankie and she rolled her eyes. "He looks at you like you're his favorite thing in the whole world. I don't know what that might be, but he looks at you like you're a surprise, and a wonder, and like he wants to—"

"To get you naked and have his wicked way with you," Bell finished.

"Bell," Frankie said with a gasp of dismay.

I couldn't help the thrill of pleasure that ran through me at their words. I knew Worthy could kiss and he'd said all those nice things to me, and there was no one else I'd met so far who I wanted to spend more time with or who made me feel all tingly and happy the way he did. Since Bryce told me about the rumor about me and Worthy, though, I'd started to doubt. To wonder if maybe all the attention Worthy paid me was just his way of keeping an eye on me for my cousin. Not that I thought Byron told him to make out with me, but... "Argh," I growled, sitting up. "What is wrong with me?"

Immediately, Bell and Frankie were seated on either side of me, peering into my face and patting me on the back. "What's wrong, sugar?" Bell asked. "Are you not feeling well?"

"You've been working too hard," Frankie said. "I knew it. All the dating and studying and work has been too much for you. I told Harrison..."

I looked at Frankie, but she didn't meet my eyes. "You and Harrison?" I asked.

Frankie blushed a fierce pink and started talking at the speed of light. "It's not like you think. We're only friends, but we've been eating lunch together every day and we...we're both worried about you, Remy."

"Worried about me?"

Frankie looked at the ceiling as though she was looking for help. "You haven't been sleeping," she finally said.

I looked at Bell, but she was chewing her lip, unsurprised. I was getting really tired of everyone talking about me behind my back. So, yeah, I'd had a few more bad dreams. And maybe I'd been trying not to go to sleep so I could avoid them. "It's nothing. I've been studying," I said. "I've got a test on Tuesday."

"Um, sure, okay," Frankie said.

Bell stomped her little foot, actually her toe, which was all that reached the floor when she sat on my bed. "Tell her, Frankie."

Frankie sighed like the weight of the world was on her shoulders. "You've been crying out in your sleep and, last night, you screamed."

I'd had the dream about the man with the bad breath straddling me again, but in my dream I'd found the knife and I'd stabbed him. "It's just a bad dream," I said. "I had them when I was a kid, and being in a new place and that paintball game has brought them back. I'm fine." Only I wasn't really fine, I was tired and scared to close my eyes.

"What kid dreams of being attacked?" Bell asked. "Of watching her father bleed?"

I glared at Frankie. "You told her?"

Frankie huddled into herself a bit. "I was worried about you."

"And Harrison?"

She shook her head.

"Maybe you should talk to someone," Bell said, her tone gentle but firm.

I stood and stomped to my closet, trying to ignore my shaking hands. "You've had six days of psych classes, Bell, don't try to analyze me." I pulled out a pair of faded cargo pants and a pink t-shirt.

"You can't wear that on a date," Frankie said, aghast.

"I want to be comfortable."

Bell stood. "I'll be back in a few minutes," she said. "Don't change, yet."

I threw my clothes on the bed and sat beside them. "This whole thing is a terrible idea."

"You like Worthy, right?" Frankie asked, her voice fast and light, like a hummingbird.

"Well, yeah, but I don't think I'm good at any of this. I don't know what to wear, I keep second-guessing him and myself, I get all kinds of funny feelings when I see him and I do and say stupid things. I just think maybe I need to focus on school and work for a while, and forget this whole dating thing."

Frankie clasped her hands over her chest and her eyes widened. She looked like a cartoon character and I could swear I saw hearts in her eyes. "You really do like him," she said.

"Well, we've established that. Maybe it's just too much, you know? Or there's something wrong with me?"

"I threw up on my date to prom," Frankie said, her eyes on the floor.

"What?" I said, biting back a laugh.

"I was so nervous," she said. "And when I'm nervous I eat comfort food, a lot of it. The night of prom I was so nervous, I couldn't stop eating. I even snuck some twizzlers into the dance with me. My date, I really liked him, he tried to get fancy on the dance floor. He spun me, and he just kept spinning me and I...I threw up all over him."

She looked so sad and embarrassed, that I leaned in and hugged her hard, holding my breath to keep from laughing. She pushed me away and shook her head. "I don't want you to feel sorry for me, I just want you to know that you're not the only one who gets nervous about dates."

"I don't feel sorry for you." And then I couldn't hold it in anymore and I laughed.

Frankie looked offended for about two seconds before her lips started twitching. "It is kind of funny in retrospect," she said. "At least his tux was rented."

I laughed so hard, tears sprang to my eyes, and Frankie laughed with me.

"I've brought reinforcements," Bell said. She walked into my room with a supermodel. The girl was tall and willowy, with pale, creamy skin, rosy cheeks and black hair. Frankie and I stopped laughing and paid attention. "This is our suitemate, Selene," Bell said. "She's closer to your size and she's got," Bell gestured to Selene who was wearing a sun dress that barely covered her necessaries and a cute little jean jacket, "great clothes. I thought between her and Frankie, we could find something for you to wear."

Selene smiled. "You must be what? A size six? I'm sure I can find something for you in my closet."

There was a knock at my door, and Worthy stuck his head in. "Sorry, I'm early, but I'm starving. Are you ready to go, Remy?"

"Thank god, yes," I said. I leapt to my feet, so grateful to be rescued from the psychoanalysis and fashion advice of my suitemates I no longer cared what I was wearing. I was pretty sure Worthy's smiling face was the best thing I'd seen all day.

"No," Frankie said. "She isn't dressed, yet."

Worthy looked at me, in my skinny jeans and over-sized button-down blouse, and he smiled. "She looks dressed to me, and gorgeous. You ready to go?"

"Yes, yes, please," I said. I wove my way through the blockade Frankie, Selene, and Bell were trying to form and took Worthy's hand. He pulled me out into our common area and presented me with a bouquet of yellow and white daisies. "They're beautiful," I said. "How'd you know they're my favorite?"

He grinned. "I didn't. They just reminded me of you."

"I'll take those and put them in some water," Bell said, taking the flowers from me. "You kids have fun, now."

I followed Worthy out to his car and stopped. It was the first time I'd seen the car, and I needed a moment. It was three different colors, dented, and rusted and nothing on it looked younger than me, except maybe the tires. "Wow," I said.

Worthy grabbed my hand and got me moving. "Don't say anything. You might hurt her feelings." He opened the door and gestured for me to get in.

"Don't you think she's ready for retirement?" I asked. "A quiet rest in the junkyard?"

Worthy's jaw dropped and he mock-gasped. "Don't say such a thing in front of purty."

I got in and bit my lip not to laugh. The car was ridiculous, but at least he had a car, which was more than I had.

Worthy got in behind the wheel and smiled at me. I suddenly wished I'd chosen a school my cousin didn't attend, so there'd be no chance of him intruding on this date. "Do you have reservations somewhere?"

"No," he said, amusement plain on his face. "Should I?"

"Not at all. I just wanted to make sure we wouldn't be late for anything if we make a stop first."

"Want to tell me what it's about?"

"Byron."

Worthy nodded, started his car, after three attempts, and drove to the frat house without another word.

"You sure he's here?" Worthy asked.

I nodded, my mouth dry, my heart racing. I had to know the truth about Worthy, but I had a bad feeling this whole thing could go south really quickly. "I texted him earlier. He said he'd be here until eight."

Worthy opened my door and escorted me out of his car, then he walked me into the house, his hand warm at the small of my back.

Byron was in his room, his nose in a book. He closed it and faced me. "You brought Worthy? Is there something I should know?"

I steeled myself. "Worthy and I are going on a date, and I thought you might like to come along, cousin mine."

"What?" Worthy and Byron said at the same time.

"Someone's been telling the guys who are scheduled to date me not to make a move on me, because I'm taken by Worthy. Since, that was news to me, I figured you know more about my dating life than I do, and you should be included on all future dates."

Byron glared at me, but it had been a long time since he'd had the power to scare me and I was madder than a cat in a puddle.

"And you didn't think to ask me about this?" Worthy asked softly.

Aw, hell, but it was not the time to be backing down, so I turned and faced him. "See that's where I have some trouble, because it's possible you knew nothing about any of this, but it's also possible that you and my cousin are in cahoots."

"In cahoots?" Worthy asked. "Who even says that anymore?" And, thank god, I heard amusement in his voice.

"Is that what this is?" I asked him, trying to talk around the lump of nerves and anger in my throat. "Are you just dating me to keep me from dating anyone else? Are you and my cousin together in this protect Remy game?"

Worthy's expression softened. "I asked you out because I like you, and I want to see more of you. I told a few of the other guys I was serious about dating you, so that there was no confusion and no hard feelings."

"Worthy," Byron said, his voice calm and even, which meant he was pissed. "When were you going to tell _me_ you were going out with my sister?"

My heart swelled at the look of horror on my cousin's face. He was a lot of things, but an actor wasn't one of them. "Why did you—"

"It didn't come up," Worthy said. "I figured she'd tell you when she was ready."

"You're _my_ friend," Byron said. "You should have come to me first."

"No, he shouldn't have," I said, putting a hand on Worthy's arm to stop him from saying more. "Who I date isn't your business, Byron. You want to know what goes on during my dates, then come with me, follow me around like a bodyguard, because that's the only way you're going to know what I'm doing every moment of every day. Anything less is just wasting your time and pissing me off."

Byron's jaw loosened and his eyes softened. "I don't want to see you hurt."

"I'm going to be hurt, Byron, that's part of life. But I promise, if I need help or I'm in trouble, I'll come to you. I promise, if anyone hurts me, I'll tell you about it and you can go kick their asses."

"But you'll still have been hurt. It's my job to protect you."

"Yeah, that's what Uncle Leon always said when you'd take me out in the woods with you, when I was ten and twelve and fifteen, but I'm an adult now, Byron."

Byron shook his head. "He's been calling me every day. He doesn't want to see you hurt, either."

"And he's still telling you to protect me?"

Byron nodded. I couldn't help it, I walked over and hugged the big lug. "Don't listen to him. I'm not your responsibility anymore. I have to live my life and make my own decisions. Now, are you going on this date with us, or are you going to back off and let me live?"

Byron glared at Worthy. "If you hurt her, I'll rip your dick off and feed it to you."

Worthy nodded. "I knew that when I asked her out."

Byron returned his gaze to me. "You've been pushing me away. I haven't seen you in days."

He was right, and I knew I could do better. "I'll come by more if you stop meddling."

"Deal." We spit on our palms and shook on it.

"There's one thing I still don't understand," I said, when we were back in Worthy's car. "If you and he are such good friends, why's he's so mad about us going out?"

Worthy sighed. "Probably because I don't date."

"Ever?"

"Ever."

"Dare I ask why I rate a change in policy?"

He looked at me then and the intensity in his gaze burned, making me wonder if I was really up for what he was offering. Then his expression changed, revealing a vulnerability I hadn't seen before. "You made me re-think the policy. I can't promise I'll be any good at this dating thing, but you make me want to try."

I tossed my hair. "It's my amazing fashion sense, isn't it?" I asked, needing to break the tension.

He smiled and opened his door. "More like the way you tackled Byron. I've never seen anyone take that guy down so hard."

I laughed. "I've had years of practice."

We had a nice dinner at a burger joint with peeling paint on the walls and the best burger I'd ever had. I may have embarrassed myself with all the fuss I made moaning over that burger, but my uncle was not exactly gifted in the kitchen and, though I considered myself a decent cook out of necessity, I'd never made anything as good as that burger.

Worthy watched me eat with an amused smile. "Don't they have beef in the mountains of West Virginia?"

I chewed and swallowed and wiped the grease off my chin. "Yeah," I said, feeling a bit sheepish. Maybe I wasn't good at this dating thing either. "I guess I'm just really hungry."

"Did you skip lunch again?"

I narrowed my eyes, but he stuffed in another bite of burger and pretended to be unaffected. "I see you're included in the gossip-about-Remy club my friends have started."

He raised his eyebrows. "No. I just haven't seen you at the cafeteria the last couple days when I went for lunch, and I did see you almost every day before that."

I wasn't sure whether to be flattered he'd noticed me or worried he was a stalker. "It's been so nice out, I've grabbed something from the student union and eaten outside. It won't be long before it's too cold for it."

"Mind if I join you sometime?"

"Nope." I took a bite of my burger and waited for his inevitable question about my friends and their gossip about me, but it didn't come.

"What was Byron like as a kid?"

I laugh-snorted at the change in direction. "Pretty much the same as he is now, cocky, overprotective, and brilliant. He's an old soul, but he always made time to be silly and have fun. Don't tell him I said this, but he's my very best friend. I'm so lucky to have him in my life."

"How'd you end up living with him and his uncle?"

I almost choked on the bite of burger in my mouth, the question was so abrupt and surprising. I'd told my friends how I'd ended up living with Uncle Leon, but that was because it had come up in conversation, not because they'd asked me outright.

"I'm sorry," he said. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

"No. It's okay. Both of my parents were killed in a car accident when I was eight. Living with my uncle and my cousins is really all I remember. They're the only family I've ever had as far as I'm concerned."

"I'm sorry," Worthy said. "I didn't know. When Byron talks about you coming to live with them, it's like you were some miraculous angel dropped on their doorstep. It must have been hard for him to lose an aunt and uncle and to see you go through that."

I wasn't sure how Worthy imagined I would have gone to live with my uncle under happy circumstances, but I couldn't deny it was weird, because I didn't think Byron remembered my parents any more than I did. I shifted in my seat and reached for the dessert menu. "Think you can fit in dessert?"

Worthy reached across the table and took my hand in his. "I'm sorry, Remy. I shouldn't have brought it up. I just want to know everything about you."

"It's okay." I turned my hand over so it was palm up and laced my fingers through his. "I don't mean any disrespect to my parents, but I couldn't have asked for a better family than the one I have with Uncle Leon and my cousins."

"I've met Tennyson and Barrett," he said. "But I've never met your uncle. What's he like?"

I spent the rest of dinner and most of dessert telling Worthy stories about Uncle Leon and his big, loving heart and warm generosity. Talking about him brought tears to my eyes. I missed him so much and I was so grateful for everything he'd done for me and given me, even if he did drive me crazy on an almost daily basis.

After we ate, I would have been happy to sit and let the burger and pie digest, enjoy the afterglow, but Worthy had other plans. He paid the bill, grabbed my hand and dragged me back out into the night. "In a hurry to get me home?" I asked.

He gave me a look that made me realize how easily my words could be twisted into innuendo, but he didn't take the opportunity. "Dinner was just our first stop."

I got in the car and waited for him. "I'm not sure it's fair if I let you take me somewhere else. The other guys just got a meal or coffee."

Worthy appeared unconcerned. "Ron got to take you out dancing."

"Well, Ronald Graves the Third and I had a special connection."

Worthy, in the process of starting the car, stopped. "And you and me?" He reached over and brushed a strand of hair behind my ear. His gaze had warmed and the way he was looking at me made me forget what we were talking about. I leaned toward him, drawn to him like he was a magnet and I was a metal filing. "Is there any kind of connection between us?"

I couldn't resist messing with him. Call it a sick sense of humor, or the result of a youth spent with four older, male cousins who tormented, teased, and coddled me in turn. I leaned closer, letting my eyes go dreamy and soft, until my lips were a breath away from touching his. I'm pretty sure he'd stopped breathing. "Nope," I said. "No connection."

Worthy smirked, leaned back in his seat, and started the car. "Oh, well, then. I'll just take you back to your dorm. I hope the evening wasn't too intolerable for you."

I saw the corner of his mouth twitch and I knew he was messing with me. The problem with me is, I've never been good at backing down from a challenge. "It was touch and go there for a while," I said. "But somehow I survived."

"It's a bit of a relief, actually."

That stopped me. "A relief?"

"Well, yeah, not having to change policy and all that."

I was pretty sure I was getting in over my head. "Right, since the whole dating thing didn't work out."

"Right. Dodged a bullet there."

"Absolutely," I said, as he pulled up to the dorm.

Instead of hopping out, he turned in his seat and faced me. "So good night. Thanks for an unpleasant evening and all that."

Well, damn it, this wasn't going the way I thought it would. "Um, sure, okay." I started to push my door open, but somehow he was there and he pulled it open for me, with a grin.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

He just grabbed my hand, clasped it in his and led me into the dorm and up to my room. I expected a goodnight kiss or a goodbye, but he just stood there, waiting. I wondered if I'd misread him completely. I mean I understood that when he said he didn't date, that didn't mean he was celibate. It meant he had flings. Since we'd agreed not to date, even in jest, did that mean he thought we'd sleep together? I was not ready for that.

"Worthy, I think maybe you've got the wrong idea."

He crinkled his brow and tilted his head, like he was confused, but I could see he was biting his lip not to laugh. "Wrong idea? I'm going to hang out with my girlfriend in her dorm room, maybe watch a movie? Is that not what you were thinking?"

Damn it, damn it, damn it. I hated to be bested, but I was too confused to continue. "Girlfriend?"

Worthy laughed. "Maybe we should discuss it inside?"

So, I opened my door and led him in. Frankie was there, studying on her bed, but she leapt to her feet, scattering papers everywhere, when we walked in. "Oh, you're back," she said, her words running together with her fast talking. "Sorry, Worthy, I didn't expect you so soon. I'll be out of your hair in just a minute."

I turned to Worthy, my eyes wide. "What is going on?"

Worthy shrugged, his expression sobering. "Your friends talk, Remy. Harrison and Frankie seem to think you're exhausted. So, I thought a movie night might be a better date than what I'd originally planned."

"What had you originally planned?"

He shook his head. "You'll just have to go out with me again to find out."

"But we just agreed not to date."

The door shut with a bang and I realized Frankie had left. Worthy sat down on my bed and picked up a pile of DVDs someone had put there. "Right. Which I understood to mean that you are now my girlfriend. We won't date anymore, we'll go out as a couple."

"But..." I was really too tired for this conversation.

Worthy stood and stepped close to me. He put a hand on my cheek and smiled. "Remington McKinney, will you be my girlfriend?"

I really didn't have to think too hard. There was no one I liked more than Worthy. "What about all of my other dates?"

"You'd better keep those," he said, with a broad grin. "Wouldn't want anyone to think you're getting soft. So? Will you be my girlfriend?"

I nodded. He leaned in and put his lips on mine. I lost myself in the kiss, all thoughts of competition or playing it cool vanished when his warm lips met mine. Before the kiss could get really good, he kissed along my jaw and nipped my ear. I sighed into him and he pulled me down onto the bed next to him.

Sitting next to him wasn't enough for me, though, I straddled his lap and wrapped my arms around his shoulders. He was working his way along my jaw, but I leaned away from him and bent until my lips met his again and we were kissing, every one of my senses focused on the feel of his lips against mine, the warmth of his body against mine. His hardness against my...Oh, oh, I'd never felt that before. Worthy's hands slid under the hem of my shirt and moved higher, higher. It felt so good and I wanted so much more. I just wanted to lose myself in him.

"Remy," he said, breaking the kiss and pushing me, gently, off his lap. "We should slow down."

I just stared at him. I didn't know a lot about dating, but I knew a lot about guys, and I knew it was never the guy who suggested slowing down. "I'm not a good kisser am I?"

His eyes went wide. "No, Remy, you are...I've never kissed anyone I've wanted more than I want you right now, but I don't want to rush things. I'd rather take it slow and get to know you."

And, now that he wasn't touching me, what he said made a lot of sense. I wanted to experience everything with him, but there was no rush. "Okay," I said. "Good plan. What movie are we watching?"

***

I woke up in a sweat, my heart pounding, my breath coming in short gasps. I'd had another nightmare, but there was something wrong. I couldn't move, strong arms held me tight, and I started to panic.

"It's okay, Remy," Worthy said. "I've got you. It was just a dream."

"Okay," I said, trying to calm down and act normal. "I'm okay, now." Worthy loosened his grip, and I sat up and gave him a weak smile. "What happened?"

He smiled, but I could see the worry in his eyes. "We were watching a movie and you fell asleep on me. Then you had a bad dream."

I dropped my eyes to his shirt, wanting to hide my embarrassment. "Did I drool on you? I'm a slobbery sleeper."

His smile slipped just a bit. "Are you okay? Want to talk about the dream?"

"No. No, I'm fine. Going into class naked, you know, the usual." I couldn't meet his eyes. As necessary as the lie might have been, I still felt horrible for telling it.

He lifted my chin and looked at me. "You don't have to lie to me," he said. "Just say you don't want to talk about it, but don't lie to me."

"Yeah, I'm sorry. I don't want to talk about it." I looked around. "Did you make Frankie leave for the whole night?"

"No, she'll be back in half an hour. She just went to the library to study." He reached for me and pulled me back onto him, hugging me tight. "Are you going to be okay, sleeping alone? Because I could stay, just to make sure you're okay." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, and I couldn't help laughing.

"I'll be fine. Frankie's good about waking me up." The words slipped out without thought and fear spiked through me. I couldn't be with Worthy if he became overly protective, yet there I was making myself into some sort of victim.

Worthy, however, pretended like I hadn't said it. "Okay, then. I should probably get going."

"Already? You said she'd be gone for twenty more minutes."

He grinned. "I plan to take my time saying goodbye." He slid a hand onto my waist, under my shirt and pulled me close. He pressed his lips to mine and I opened immediately for him, eager to erase the violence of my nightmare with his warm touch.

I tangled my hands in his hair and pulled him harder against my mouth, finding my rhythm and becoming confident at this kissing thing. He moved his hands higher and thumbed my nipple through my bra. I gasped and he smiled against my lips.

A soft knock at the door made me freeze, but he didn't slow down. He nipped my lip and nuzzled my neck before he let me go and stood.

"Come in, Frankie," I called.

She walked in and Worthy left with a smile. "I'll call you tomorrow," he said. "Find out how your date went."

I had a lunch date the next day with another of Byron's friends. "You nervous I might like him better than you?"

Worthy smiled and shook his head. He left and closed the door behind him.

"Sorry to interrupt," Frankie said. "Did you have a good time?"

"I slept through most of it, but the parts I was awake for were pretty great."

### CHAPTER SIX

Over the next week, I went out with three more of Byron's friends, and only saw Worthy in class. Between school and work and my dates, I barely had time to think, but Worthy still managed to take up space in my brain. He also took up space on my phone, texting me several times a day and calling, even if just for a few minutes, to chat when neither of us was at work or in class. I couldn't stop thinking about his smile or the way his body felt pressed against mine. Thinking of Worthy was better than obsessing about the nightmares I was having every night. I did my best to ignore them, to push them to the back of my brain, but they were starting to take a toll. I wasn't getting much sleep, and I could tell that Frankie was worried about me. I was in my room, trying to catch a nap between classes, when my phone rang.

"Hi Uncle Leon," I said.

"Byron says you've been having nightmares again." My uncle had never been one to waste words or time.

"Byron needs to mind his own business."

My uncle snorted. "You're his cousin and he loves you like a sister, someday you'll be grateful for him."

I sighed. I mean, I knew all that, but it didn't make him any less annoying in the moment.

"You've always had an overactive imagination, Remington. When you're in a stressful or new situation your mind creates these nightmares. When you were a child, I used to read fairy tales to you, to push the nightmares from your mind. It seemed to help."

It had always struck me as funny that the only place I had an overactive imagination was in my nightmares. I'd never been one to imagine monsters in dark corners or fear the shadows in the forest. "What was my father like?" I asked, because the nightmares felt so very real, and because my uncle rarely spoke of my father.

"The nightmares aren't real, Remington. They're horrible figments of your stressed-out mind. Your father was an accountant, a good man with a steady job and a good, safe life."

He spoke with little intonation or emotion, reciting something he'd said all my life without variation or embellishment. It struck me as odd that he couldn't tell me more about his own brother. "How did you know my nightmares were about my father?"

"They've always been about your father."

Uncle Leon changed the subject to my life at university, and I told him how much I was enjoying my classes and about my suitemates. I didn't tell him about dating my way through Byron's friends or about Worthy. Uncle Leon didn't need a reason to worry any more than he already did.

I hung up and tried to get back to studying, but my vision blurred with exhaustion and I lay down to take a quick nap instead. It was easier for me to sleep in the daytime, the nightmares were less likely to happen when the sun shone for some reason.

I woke to Frankie and Bell's worried faces. They were covered with blood, as had been the face of the man in my dream. A man I'd watched my father beat until I was sure he must be dead. As I pushed my way farther into the land of the waking, the blood slid from their faces, but the worry didn't.

Bell sat on the bed and put an arm around my shoulders, pulling me to a sitting position next to her. My mouth tasted like old cotton and my head felt like it wasn't quite attached to my shoulders. I rubbed my eyes and tried to smile. "I think you should talk to someone about these nightmares," Bell said.

The idea of telling anyone, of speaking about the horrors I witnessed in my nightmares, made me itchy. What kind of person had nightmares like that from their own imagination? Whatever was wrong with me had to be of the pscyho-creep variety. "No, I had them when I was little. My uncle said it helped when he read me fairy tales. Do you know any books that might give me better things to dream about?" If anyone could recommend a book to get my head out of my nightmares, it was Bell.

"Sure," Bell said. "What sort of books do you like to read?"

I shrugged. "Mostly nonfiction. I love books about ecology, botany, and war. I also like biographies, especially if they're about people involved in ecology, botany, or war."

"Huh," Bell said. "Those are good, but maybe not the best form of escape from nightmares. Especially not books about war. Do you like any fiction books?"

"I liked some of the books I'd had to read for school, Lord of the Flies, The Red Badge of Courage, The Hunger Games, that sort of thing."

Bell's small, heart-shaped mouth pursed and her big eyes widened in thought. "Right. Again, maybe not the best distraction from nightmares. Let me look through my collection and see what I can come up with." She left, tripping over my backpack on her way out the door, already lost in contemplating the best book for me.

Frankie took Bell's seat next to me. "This probably isn't my business," she said. "But...you know what, never mind."

"No, no, it's okay," I said, curious about what insight she might have. "You can tell me. I won't be offended."

"It's just...I can't get over how weird these nightmares are. Where did they come from?"

"My overactive imagination?" I said, with a shrug.

She twisted her hands in her lap, not meeting my eyes. "So, tell me a story."

"What?"

"Apparently, you've got this great imagination. So, tell me a story."

"Is this something from your textbook?" Frankie was taking intro to psych with Bell.

"It's just . . . Okay, I _do_ have an overactive imagination. When we went to that paintball tournament, I was scared to take one step, because I was imagining snakes and spiders and squirrels waiting to attack."

"Squirrels?"

"They're creepy, and they have really big teeth. They just give me..." She sighed. "But that's my point. You strike me as a wholly rational, logical person, yet you have these bizarre nightmares that you first had when you were a little girl living in a sheltered world."

"Maybe I saw a movie?"

Her shoulders slumped. She really didn't like to disagree with anyone, but I knew she wasn't buying my theory about my nightmares. She took a deep breath and, when she looked up, I could see the steel in her eyes. "Just one movie? I hear you talking in your sleep when you have the nightmares. They aren't the same every time, are they?"

"What are you getting at?"

"When I was kid, I saw an elderly man with only one eye. Where his other eye should have been there was nothing but flat, pore-less skin. That night, I dreamed I was at a party and someone threw a sucker at someone else and the stick hit the other person in the eye. The stick on the lollipop stabbed them in the eye and stuck there." She shuddered. "It was awful. I had the same nightmare every night for two weeks, and then about once a week for two months. I had seen a man with only one eye and my nightmare gave me an explanation for what had happened to him."

"I've never had a nightmare about anyone losing their eye."

Frankie met my gaze without wavering.

"Are you seriously suggesting my uncle has lied to me all these years? That my nightmares are memories?" I could feel anger boiling up, but underneath it was fear and suspicion. Frankie had to be wrong, but what she said made too much sense. Especially when I'd just been questioning my uncle's story myself. Instead of considering all this information, logically, however, I found myself getting angrier.

"I don't want to make you mad, I just think you should consider the possibility."

"It's not a real possibility." I was yelling now, and I knew I should stop, but if I calmed down, I'd have to think about what she'd said and I wasn't ready for that. "I have to get to class." I grabbed my bag and headed for the door.

"I'm sorry," Frankie said to my back. "I'm just worried about you. You're exhausted and when you cry out in your sleep, you sound so scared and hurt and alone. I just want to help."

"I didn't ask for your help," I said, hating myself a little bit. "If it bothers you so much, I'll find somewhere else to sleep."

"Remy, no, I—"

I left before I had to hear what she said next.

***

I was supposed to have another date that night, but I called him and cancelled. I promised no retaliation if he didn't take me out, I just wasn't in the mood for a date. He understood and didn't pressure me to give him another chance. In fact, he sounded relieved and I wondered why I was still bothering to go out with all those guys. Maybe, for once in my life, I should back down and just let it go. I'd already proved my point to Byron, even if he wasn't ready to admit defeat.

I started back to my dorm room, but found my feet taking me to Byron's instead. I headed up the stairs to his room and knocked on his door.

"He's not here."

I turned to see Worthy leaning against the wall, concern obvious in his expression. I was so tired of people worrying about me. "Don't you have a date tonight?"

"I cancelled." Determined to make him stop worrying about me, I smiled sweetly. "I decided I'd rather see you."

He smiled and the worry in his eyes lightened just a bit. "And you got confused about which room was mine?"

I waved my hand in front of my face and put on my best Southern Bell accent. "It's this here heat, it's just got me all plumb confused."

Worthy laughed. "And what were you planning to do when you found me?"

I was at a loss. I just wanted to forget about my nightmares and my past and my uncle, but I had no grand ideas for how to spend the evening.

"Because," he said. "I have to leave for work in about fifteen minutes. You're welcome to hang out in my room and study until I get back."

It didn't sound like the most exciting evening I'd ever had, but I loved the idea of getting away from Frankie and Bell's worry, and I especially loved the idea of spending more time with Worthy. "That would be great. If you're sure you don't mind."

He grinned. "Mind having a beautiful woman waiting for me in my room. Why would I mind that?"

He led me to his room at the end of the hall and left me there with instructions to make myself at home, a kiss on the cheek, and a promise to see me soon. Then he left me alone, like he wasn't at all worried about me snooping.

I dropped my backpack on the floor next to his double-bed, and sat on the edge of it, clasping my hands together tightly to resist the urge to start opening drawers. His room was smaller than my dorm room, with just enough space for his bed, a small dresser with a T.V. on top, and a nightstand. There was no desk in his room, so I figured he must study on his bed or go to the library or the big dining room table on the first floor. I'd seen his frat brothers studying there before.

The comforter on his bed was navy and thin, and I wondered if he slept hot. I stood and walked over to the dresser to get a closer look at the two pictures next to the T.V. The first was of him and Byron and five other frat brothers, none of whom I'd dated, at the summit of some mountain. The other was of three boys and a woman, who didn't look that much older than me, in front of a small, white clapboard house. The oldest boy had Worthy's curls and brown eyes, and the other two boys looked to be a good bit younger than him. Worthy could have been eight or ten, but one of his brothers was in his mother's arms, in a diaper, and the other looked no older than four. Their mother didn't smile at the camera, but even so she was beautiful, her posture straight, her shoulders back, a look of determination on her striking features.

I wandered the room a bit more, but there was nothing else to see unless I opened drawers and went full out snoopy. I sat on Worthy's bed and pulled out my biology textbook. I read about meiosis and mitosis until my brain got fuzzy, and then I pulled out one of the books Bell had lent me, a romance with a buff and half-naked guy on the cover.

I must have fallen asleep, because I woke to a dark room and an arm pulling me back against a hard, warm body. I rolled under the arm and faced Worthy in the dim light that filtered into his room from a streetlight outside. "I'm sorry," he said. He pressed a kiss to my forehead. "You looked so peaceful sleeping there next to the naked man, I didn't want to wake you, but I couldn't resist touching you."

"Naked man?" I felt groggy and out of it, but I think I'd notice another man in bed with us.

Worthy smiled and his eyes went melty amber. "A book with a naked man on the cover."

My cheeks heated and I ducked my head. "Bell lent it to me to help me sleep."

He bent his head and nipped my bottom lip. I raised my face to his and he kissed me. "It seems to have worked."

"Yeah," I said. "It did."

He tightened his grip around my waist and squeezed, sliding one of his legs between mine. My lower belly tightened and I wanted more. I wanted to get closer to him. "I like you in my bed. Do you think you could stay here tonight?"

There was nowhere else I'd rather be, but I didn't want him to witness me having a nightmare.

He noticed my hesitation and kissed my forehead. "Byron is going to have to get used to us as a couple at some point, because I don't intend to let him and his rules determine what we do."

I could have argued that we should respect Byron and not sleep together in his house, it would have been the perfect excuse, but it was warm in Worthy's arms and I didn't want to leave them. I'd just make sure we didn't do any sleeping. "I want to stay."

Worthy's grin brightened the room and warmed me from the outside in. "We don't have to do anything," he said. "We can just sleep. I'm exhausted and you have to work in the morning."

I pressed myself against him and nipped his stubbly chin. "I've just had a nap. And I'm not tired at all."

His body tensed for just a moment and then he relaxed with a sigh. "I'm not going to have sex with you tonight, Remy, but I can make you feel good."

"Sounds perfect," I said, relieved not to have to decide that night if I was ready to go all the way with him.

"You call the shots," he said. "If I do anything that makes you feel anything other than amazing, you let me know and I'll stop."

"Awfully sure of yourself, aren't you?" His confidence reminded me of how much more experienced than me he was, and I pulled away from him a bit, nervous.

He pulled me back against him and pressed a kiss to my neck, just under my ear. He smiled when I shivered. "I'm sure of us, Remy. Together. I've never felt anything like this before."

He slid a hand under my shirt and gripped my waist in a move I'd already come to love. He pressed his lips to mine and kissed me until my heart felt like it was going to pound out of my chest, and all I felt was want. I burned all over and I wanted his hands everywhere, I wanted to feel him everywhere. I wanted to be branded by his touch.

I pulled away from him and gripped the hem of my shirt in both hands. He watched me, his eyes molten amber, as I lifted the shirt over my head and tossed it on the floor behind me. I didn't take my eyes off his, and I loved the way he looked at me like he felt it, too, the want and the need. He made me feel devastatingly gorgeous. I unclasped my bra and let it drop to the floor with my shirt without feeling a moment's hesitation or embarrassment. It felt right and good to be bared to him.

He pulled me back and kissed my collarbone, taking his time. Taking too damn long. I grabbed his hands and put them on my breasts, so lost in the moment and in lust that I was in no mood to wait for him. He massaged my breasts and desire shot like fireworks all over my body. He pinched my right nipple, and I threw back my head and moaned because it just felt that good.

"Fuck," Worthy said. "Remy, you have no idea what you're doing to me. I've never seen anything as gorgeous and sexy as you, and I've never wanted anyone like I want you."

He dropped his head to my breast and put his mouth on me and bright lights exploded behind my eyes. I felt like I was going to explode, every part of me was so sensitive to his touch, to the feel of him on me. I pushed him off and dropped to the bed, limp and overstimulated.

"Please," I said. "I can't take any more. Just...just give me a minute."

"Do you want to stop?" I opened my eyes to see Worthy over me, concern on his face.

"No," I said. "It's just a bit overwhelming. I need a minute to catch my breath."

He grinned that grin I was coming to love. "You don't need to be able to breathe for what I'm about to do to you."

He sat up and pulled his shirt over his head, revealing broad shoulders, toned pecs, and rock-hard abs that I wanted to lick. That thought made me scrunch my eyes closed and take a deep breath. Maybe it was that racy book I'd read before my nap or maybe it was all Worthy, but I'd never wanted to lick anyone before. I wasn't sure I recognized myself. The feel of Worthy's warm hand on my stomach made my eyes pop open and I saw him looking down at me, a question in his eyes.

I waved a hand. "I'm pretty sure I'm incapable of saying no to you, right now," I said. "No sex, but have your way with me otherwise."

He chuckled, slid his hand under the waistband of my jeans, and touched a spot I'd only ever touched myself. It felt so good I was pretty sure I'd – then his hand was gone and I sat up and glared at him. "Why'd you stop?"

He met my glare with a heated stare that melted something in my chest, and then he unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans and pulled them down over my hips, his eyes on mine the entire time.

He dropped his face between my legs and put his tongue where no one's tongue had gone before. I dropped back on the bed and exploded into a bazillion shiny bits of pleasure.

Worthy didn't stop his attentions until I thought I was going to scream. I pushed him away before I brought all his housemates running. He sat up and gave me a mock pout. "That was way too quick," he said. "I want more."

I was pretty sure if he put his head back down there, I was going to forget to be quiet and my head might just explode. I reached for him and stroked the impressive bulge in his jeans. He jerked back from me and shook his head. "No, I'm fine."

I propped myself up on my elbows and frowned at him. "Clearly, you aren't, and I'm having fun. I want to have more fun."

He ran a hand through his hair and groaned. "I just don't want to go too fast with you. I've only taken you out on one date."

"We went hiking together, so that counts as two dates. And I didn't realize we were on any sort of timetable, here. If I'm uncomfortable, I'll let you know, but so far this has all felt really good."

He studied my face for a long moment and then he nodded. "Okay, have your way with me."

A bubble of happiness rose in my chest and escaped as a laugh. A laugh that came out as a bit of a nervous giggle. I trusted Worthy and I wanted to make him feel as good as he'd made me feel, but I'd never seen a naked penis on purpose before. The ones I had seen belonged to my cousins and I'd felt only revulsion and embarrassment when I'd happened to see them accidently. Something that, admittedly, hadn't happened since I was a kid except with Barrett, who had a weird proclivity for nudity. Everything Worthy and I had done together had made me feel good, but what if the sight of his penis ruined it all?

I gave myself a mental slap when I met Worthy's gaze and saw that he'd noticed my hesitation and was moving away from me, giving me space. I grabbed the waistband of his jeans and pulled him back. Then, before I could give it too much thought, I unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. He was wearing black boxer briefs and I could clearly make out a sizable bulge straining for freedom. I didn't feel revulsion, just desire and warmth and a bit of nervousness.

"Remy..." Worthy said. I looked at him and he licked his lips, caught somewhere between concern and ecstasy. I wanted to give him ecstasy. I pushed the boxers down and he bobbed free, erect and big. Really big. Curious, I put my hand on him and felt his smooth, silky, warmth. He hissed out a breath and I jumped and let him go, worried I'd hurt him.

The look on his face, though, wasn't pain. "Will you show me?" I asked. I wrapped my fingers around him and he put his hand on top of mine. He showed me how to make him feel as good as he'd made me feel.

***

"Holy shoot," I said to Bell at lunch the next day. "What kind of smut did you give me? How did you even get those books?" I'd ended up falling asleep in Worthy's arms and hadn't had a nightmare, at least not one I could remember and Worthy hadn't mentioned me tossing and turning.

Bell laughed. "They aren't mine. I borrowed them from Ella."

"I've only met her a couple of times," I said. "I'm not going to be able to face her without blushing now."

Bell frowned. "They aren't working as a distraction?"

"Oh, no, they're working. That book definitely gave me some happy thoughts and good feelings to fall asleep with." I didn't mention how much the techniques I'd read in that book had helped me to have fun with Worthy. I didn't feel like sharing, yet, I wanted to keep our night together all to myself.

Bell smiled. "Oh, well, good then."

"Um, maybe I could borrow one after you're done?" Frankie asked, her cheeks pink. "I've never read a book like that."

"Sure," I said. "If it's okay with Ella."

"Of course, it's okay with me," Ella said, putting a tray on the table and sitting down across from me, next to Bell. "Learned everything worth knowing about dating from those books." Ella had the face of an angel, with glowing, blonde hair and more piercings than I'd ever seen on one person before. She had gauges in both ears, studs lining both ears half-way around, two lip rings, and a nose ring. I'd only talked to her a couple times, and in passing, so I didn't know much about her at all. From what I could tell, she kept to herself, didn't smile much, and was always in a hurry.

I had to admit, I was a bit jealous that she had experienced any of the numerous sexy scenes I'd read in the book. Not to mention the romantic, sweet moments that seemed too good to be true. Not one of the five men I'd grown up with spoke the way the men in those books did, though Worthy came close. I was just working up the nerve to ask Ella about her dating experience, but Bell beat me to it.

"Have you had a lot of boyfriends?"

Ella's cheeks turned pink and she looked down at the table, displaying an unexpected vulnerability. "Um, no, actually," she said. "I haven't had many, or I haven't had _any_ boyfriends, actually. But I'd like to think those books have well prepared me for the day I do start dating."

"I've never dated, either," I said. "Well, not until the last couple of weeks. I have to say the book I read was quite enlightening."

Ella must have seen uncertainty in my expression, because she smiled. "Don't worry, I'm pretty sure no college boy expects his girl to have the level of experience the women in those books do."

I'd pretty much figured the same thing myself, but it was good to hear, anyway. Ella ate her chicken Caesar salad quickly, her back straight as she lifted her spoon to her mouth primly and properly. I tried not to watch her as I nibbled on my sandwich, but she was just so poised and beautiful, it was hard not to wonder where she'd come from and what her life had been so far. Bell had her nose in a book, this one for her first class of the day, and I could feel Frankie's eyes on the side of my face. I knew if I looked at her, I'd see worry, and I'd probably trigger her asking me if I was okay and if I'd had a nightmare.

"Where are you from?" I asked Ella.

She paused with her fork midway to her mouth. "I'm from Virginia," she said. "Charlottesville. Home to John Grisham and Sissy Spacek. Dave Matthews is from there, too, among others. Where are you from?"

"West Virginia," I said. "The mountains, home to black bears, bobcats, and deer."

Ella narrowed her eyes at me, like she was trying to figure out if I was making fun of her. I kind of had been, but come on, how could I not? So, I met her gaze and smiled. She relaxed and took another bite of her salad, but she didn't smile back. She finished eating, wiped her mouth primly with her napkin, and stood. "I've got to get to class, but I'll see y'all later." She walked away without waiting for a response from us.

"She's different," I said. "But I think I like her."

"She's nice," Bell said, without looking up from her book. "She's just really busy. I think she works like thirty-five hours a week, on top of going to school."

I only worked fifteen to twenty hours a week, and I felt overwhelmed sometimes. Of course, that might have had something to do with not sleeping at night and attempting to date my way through my cousin's frat house, but I was still impressed by Ella's schedule.

Bell shut her book with a snap and stood. "I've got to get to class, too. You ladies enjoy the rest of your lunch."

We waved Bell off, and I picked at my sandwich, still not looking at Frankie. "So," Frankie said. "You really think the books are helping with your nightmares?" She spoke so fast, the words ran together, and I knew she was nervous about confronting me again. That understanding did not evoke the sympathy from me that it probably should have.

"Sure. I'm all better."

"Oh, okay, that's good," she said. "So, this guy in my econ class asked me out yesterday."

I turned to look at her then, and saw a shy smile peeking out. "That's great! What's he like? Do you like him?"

She hesitated. "Oh, well, he's really cute. Honestly, he can be a bit obnoxious in class, shouting out answers and teasing some of the other students. But he was really nice to me when he asked me out."

"That doesn't sound so good. Did you turn him down?"

Confusion registered on her brow. "Um, no. I couldn't do that. It was so sweet of him to ask me, and I just couldn't tell him no. That would be so rude."

I pretended to be enthralled with my ham sandwich, so I didn't have to look Frankie in the face. "Sweetie," I said, finally. "Bless your heart, you don't have to go out with a guy just because he asks you. If you don't like him, you just tell him no."

Frankie looked down at her hands, and I thought I'd gotten through to her. Then she looked up at me and, though her cheeks were red, her expression was determined. "That's just not how I was raised."

I did not like where this was going. "So, you can't turn down a guy you don't really like for a date?"

"Well, my momma always told me that I could say no, I just had to do it politely. To come up with a reasonable excuse. The problem is, I'm not really good at thinking fast on my feet, so I just usually say yes."

"So, your momma told you it was better to lie and lead guys on then to just say, 'No thank you, I'm not interested'?"

Her jaw set in a hard line. "That is not what I said, Remy."

I let it go, because socially sheltered as I was, even I knew no good ever came of insulting someone's momma. "So, when is this date?"

"It's tomorrow night," she said. "At that nice Italian place near campus."

I had to bite my lip not to question why she didn't at least downgrade the date from dinner to coffee if she wasn't sure she liked the guy. I didn't want to upset her any more than I already had. "Let's make it a double date," I said. "I'll ask Worthy to come with me."

Frankie looked outside where some guys were playing Frisbee and laughing. It was a warm fall day, the leaves were just starting to turn, and lots of people were outside. She swallowed, and then she looked at me. "That would be fun, but we have to be subtle about it. You and Worthy show up at the restaurant and say hello, and I'll invite you to join us. That way it will seem natural and won't hurt his feelings."

"Okay," I said, trying to smile through what I'm sure was an expression suggesting she was crazy. "Whatever you want."

"Great. Want to walk to class with me?"

So, we walked to class together in silence, enjoying the fall weather and the beauty of the campus. With red-brick buildings and gorgeous landscaping, the campus was pretty enough to be something out of a fairy tale, and I never got tired of exploring it.

***

I met Frankie for her date the next night, feeling exhausted. Wednesdays were my busiest days, I had two classes and biology lab. The romance books were only working to keep me up all night reading them. As soon as I closed my eyes, the nightmares hit me again. I knew Frankie was only getting more and more worried, and I felt awful. On top of that, Worthy had a study group, and I hadn't been able to find anyone else willing to double-date with me and Frankie. I'd had to resort to the one guy I knew Frankie was attracted to, even though she swore she didn't like him as a person.

Maybe if I'd been more alert and less of a shambling zombie, I could have come up with a better solution, but I hadn't been and I didn't.

Frankie's cheeks pinked when she saw me walk up with Harrison, and I got a sinking feeling of foreboding. Frankie's date was cute, all big biceps, sculpted face, and bright blue eyes, but the way he glared at us when Frankie waved us over set my teeth on edge. Something was wrong with this guy. And I was pretty sure what was wrong was that he wasn't a nice guy. Frankie needed a nice guy.

"Hi, Frankie, what a surprise," I said, pretending to be surprised. "It's so good to see you."

I looked at Harrison, but he was glaring right back at Frankie's date, so I elbowed him in the ribs. He gasped and forced a smile. "Hi, Frankie."

Frankie's blush deepened. "Hi, you, two. Duran, this is Remy and Harrison. Why don't you join us for dinner?" She spoke at a normal pace, but it seemed forced, like she was thinking really hard about her words.

Duran glared at Harrison for a moment longer, so I laced my fingers through Harrison's and kissed his cheek. Duran relaxed and smiled. "Any friends of Francesca's are friends of mine."

"Thanks." I pulled up a chair and sat next to Duran. I didn't think it would be wise for Harrison to sit next to him. "We'd love to join you. I haven't seen you, Frankie, in so long. How are you?"

"I'm great, Remy," she said, her words fast and nervous. Harrison sat next to her and gave her shoulder a small squeeze. Frankie took a deep breath. "How are you both?" This time her words were modulated and at a normal pace.

"We're doing really well," Harrison said. "Right, love of my life?"

I didn't look at Harrison, because I suspected he'd have a pseudo-loving face on that would make me crack up. "So, Duran," I said. "I hear you have an econ class with our Frankie. Are you an econ major?"

"No," Duran said.

I stared at him, waiting for him to elaborate, but he didn't say any more. "Well, bless your heart," I said. "Aren't you just charming?"

Harrison pinched my thigh under the table, and I bit my lip, hard, to keep from crying out. Then I kicked him in the shin. No one said I had to be nice to Duran. Harrison flinched and narrowed his eyes at me, then picked up a menu. "So, what's good here?"

"Oh, I don't have any idea," Frankie said. "I've never been here before. Duran?"

"It's all good, babe," he said. "I eat here all the time."

We turned our attention to the menu and made our choices. I tried to get Duran into a conversation so I could learn more about him, but he didn't seem to be terribly interested in conversation. Finally, Harrison got him talking about the Maple Ridge football team and I chatted with Frankie about her classes and the rest of our suitemates. Dinner was actually good and the conversation flowed, although Duran and Frankie barely spoke to one another. After we'd eaten, Duran generously paid for all our meals. He told us repeatedly that he was happy to pay, because his parents were loaded. We waved goodbye to Frankie and Duran and watched them leave the restaurant together.

Harrison drew in a sharp breath next to me. "Don't ever ask me to do this again," he said. His expression was pained.

"He doesn't seem that bad," I said. "A little self-absorbed and conversationally-challenged, but the girl's got to date around to find out who she likes."

Harrison sighed. "She can't say no to anyone, Remy. She'll probably end up dating that jerk for two years before she gets fed up enough to do something about it."

"We won't let that happen."

" _You_ won't let that happen," he said. "I can't be involved anymore. I like her too much, and you were right, I'm no good for her."

"You can't be worse for her than that guy."

Harrison shook his head and his shoulders bowed a bit, like he carried the weight of the world. "You don't know me, Remy. Just look out for her, okay."

"Okay. But you can't just disappear, Harrison. You're her friend and you're my friend."

He didn't look at me. "I'll call you when I find out the date for the next paintball tournament."

"Sure." Harrison gave me a silent ride back to the dorms and I rushed to my room, hoping to find Frankie there.

"He was really sweet on the way back," Frankie said as soon as I walked in. "Thanks for looking out for me, but he's a nice guy."

"That's good," I said. "I didn't really get to talk to him at dinner."

"He wants to take me out again this weekend."

"Okay..."

"And I told him I'd love to see him again. We just need a chance to get to know each other better."

"But you don't like him," I said, confused. "Did this dinner change that?"

"I said I didn't like what he did in class. But he was sweet tonight, and I'm willing to give him a chance."

"But, why? There are a lot of nice guys around, Frankie. Why would you go out with him again if you don't really like him?" Yeah, I was being pushy, but I didn't need another dinner date with Duran to see that she could do better.

Frankie grabbed her bag off the floor. "I'm heading to the library to study. I'll see you later." She walked out without waiting for me to respond.

I flopped down on my bed and closed my eyes in frustration.

### CHAPTER SEVEN

When I woke up later that night, sweaty and breathless, the nightmare sticking to me like a dark tar. I knew I needed to change something. The romance books weren't working, and I was exhausted. I stood and started pacing. Frankie still wasn't back from the library and I had to come up with some way to get past the nightmares. The pacing turned into jogging in place and I realized I hadn't been for a run since I'd moved in. Maybe physical exercise was what I needed. I changed into shorts and a t-shirt and pulled on my running shoes.

The night was cool, feeling more like fall than it had all week, and I breathed deep and picked up my pace. I couldn't stop thinking about what Frankie had said about my nightmares being based on something that really happened to me. I didn't want to believe she was right, but I didn't remember anything from my childhood with my normal, suburban family, and that couldn't be right either. Without conscious thought, I found myself at my cousin's frat. I jogged up the stairs to Byron's room.

This time, when I knocked, he answered and ushered me in. "Hey, kid," he said. He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. Someone had been talking to him about me. I walked into his arms and let him hug me tight. He smelled like home and comfort, mossy trees and clean rain. Tears burned my eyes, but I swallowed them down and pulled away from him.

"Can we talk?" I asked.

He nodded and took a seat at his desk chair. He gestured for me to sit on his bed, and I did. "Still having the nightmares?"

"What do you remember about my dad?" I asked.

"What?" He turned away and closed his book. When he faced me again, his expression was guarded. "Why do you want to know about him?"

"I want to know what you remember about him, because I don't remember anything. The only place I see his face is in my nightmares, and the things he gets into...but he was your uncle, so you must remember something about him, right?"

"What has Dad told you?" he asked, his jaw clenching.

"Only that my father was an accountant and we lived in the suburbs. That's it. Nothing about what he looked like or what our house looked like or what my mom was like. He tells me my nightmares are nothing but my overactive imagination, but don't you think it's weird that he's told me nothing about my father?"

Byron froze. "Wait. Are you suggesting that your nightmares are memories? Because that's crazy. I remember your nightmares, Remington. No kid would have ever been involved in that kind of stuff."

"I know, I just...I need to know something real about my dad. If I can have a real memory, maybe I can forget the nightmares. Replace them with good memories. Please, Byron, you must remember something."

He ran a hand over his face and, when he looked at me again, there was a new vulnerability and sadness in his eyes. "I was just a kid, so maybe I don't remember, but Keats, Tennyson, and Barrett they don't remember either. I'm pretty sure none of us ever met your father, Remington. I didn't even know I had an uncle or a cousin until Dad brought you home one day. He'd been dating a really nice woman, a bit younger than him, and he'd been going out a lot and leaving us with Keats. We were expecting him to come home one day with a new wife, but he came home with you and we never saw that woman again."

Coldness seeped into my chest. "And you never questioned it?"

He swallowed hard. "Dad is going to kill me for this, Remington, but I think you deserve to know. I've always thought you should know."

"Know what, By?" I started to shake.

"The night he brought you home, we were living in Roanoke at the time, we packed up everything we cared about and everything we needed. We loaded up the car and we drove to the house in the mountains. It had been granddad's place and he'd left it to Dad when he died. Dad had been planning to sell, but then you showed up and we went to live there. We never saw or talked to anyone we'd known in Roanoke again."

"Shit, By. What are you saying?" I had a pretty good idea that something seriously suspicious surrounded my coming into their family, but I couldn't think of my uncle as a kidnapper or a criminal. That was ridiculous. It was more likely he was keeping me away from some bad element in the family, someone who wanted custody or something.

He rubbed a hand over his face. "All I know, Remington, is that Dad adores you and he would do anything to keep you safe. I can't believe for a moment that what he did served any purpose other than protecting you."

I tended to agree with Byron, but still... "Protect me from what?"

He sighed. "That's what I'd sure as fuck like to know. He keeps telling me to look out for you, but he never tells me what sort of trouble I'm supposed to be watching for."

I got up and wrapped my arms around my cousin. "You've done a fine job of protecting me. Most people would say you're more of a nosy Nessie than a big, bad protector, but—"

He had me on the floor and in hysterics in less time than it took me to say his name. He tickled me so good, I couldn't get enough air to cry uncle. I finally got free of him when one of my helpless kicks landed on his balls. He rolled to his hands and knees gasping for air.

"Well, that was quite entertaining."

I looked up from my position on the floor to see Worthy looking down at me, grinning. "Hi," I said. "How are you?"

"I'm good. You?"

I sat up and wrapped my arms around my knees. "Actually, I was going to stop by your room next. Since you don't have to work tonight, I thought maybe we could study together."

"Sure," Worthy said. "I was going to call you in a few minutes to ask you the same thing."

"At the library," Byron said, like it was a foregone conclusion.

"No. Worthy is my boyfriend, and I'm going to study in his room."

Byron winced. "Get out of my room. I don't want to know anything about what the two of you are doing, but make sure I don't ever see you creeping out of Worthy's room in the morning. I'm not going to interfere, but I am going to pretend you two are a platonic couple who never, ever see each other naked."

I jumped up and followed Worthy to his room before Byron changed his mind.

Worthy shut the door behind us and caged me in with his body, his hands on either side of my head, my back against the door. "Good thing he didn't notice you don't have a backpack or any books with you."

"But you noticed," I said.

"Oh, I definitely noticed." He pressed his lips to mine and his hands dropped to grip my hips. Just as I was really getting into it, he let me go and stepped away. "I want to talk first." He sat on the edge of his bed and motioned for me to sit next to him. I did, my hands going clammy with fear about what he was going to say. I wanted him to make me forget, I didn't want to talk. "You look exhausted. Have you been sleeping?"

"I'm fine," I said, not meeting his gaze. I hated lying, but I wasn't ready to talk about this with him. "I've just been busy with school and work, and I haven't gotten as much sleep as I should."

He lifted my chin with his finger, his eyes flashing with something akin to anger. "Don't lie to me, Remy. It's the one thing I ask. Have your nightmares gotten worse?"

"You know," I turned and straddled his lap, pressing my chest against his, "talking is not what I came to your room for."

"Remy," he said, his voice a warning tone.

"And if you." I slid one hand under his shirt and over his washboard abs and wrapped the other in his thick hair. "Continue to be difficult." I rocked against him a bit, being more forward and daring than I'd thought I'd ever be with a guy. I guess he just brought it out in me. "I will have to notify Byron of your ill treatment of me, his precious cousin."

"Remy," he said again, but this time there was no warning in his tone, only heat and desire. I pressed my lips to his and he opened immediately, groaning as I rocked against him again and felt him grow hard. Warmth spread through my lower stomach and with it came a need so sharp I moaned.

"I'm not having sex with you tonight," he said, as though he were reminding himself as much as warning me. Then he pulled my shirt over my head, unsnapped my bra, and put his mouth to my breast. The pleasure shot straight through me, igniting fireworks behind my closed lids. I pushed him away long enough to take off his shirt and worshipped his naked torso as he'd worshipped mine.

***

I woke up the next morning, naked and wrapped in Worthy's warm arms and there was nowhere else I'd rather be. "Good morning, sweetheart," he said, pressing a kiss to my cheek. "How'd you sleep?"

"Perfect." I snuggled in more firmly against him and he hugged me tighter. I noticed the picture of his family on the T.V. stand and wondered about them. "Are you close to your family?"

He nuzzled my neck and nipped my ear. "I can tell you something I'd like to be closer to," he said, pressing his hardness against my butt.

I rolled to face him, my desire to hear about his family vanishing in a lusty haze of desire. "Can you show me instead?" He lowered himself until his face was between my thighs and he showed me in explicit detail.

He brought me to orgasm almost too quickly and, when he seemed to want to continue my pleasure, I gripped his shoulders and pulled him up. "I want to taste you," I said.

He hesitated only a moment. "Are you sure? I don't have any expectations."

"I'm sure I want to," I said, but my heart thudded with an unexpected nervousness. "Only, I've never done it before, so maybe you could..."

"Tell you what to do?" He grinned and moved up to the head of the bed to wrap me back up in his arms. "Nah, I think you can figure it out. Just do what feels good to you, and I can guarantee it will feel good to me. It's nearly impossible for you to do anything I don't like when your mouth is on me."

His words heated me in all the best ways, and I slid down, pressing kisses to his beautiful body all the way. When I reached my target, I took his advice and did what felt right, but I also paid attention to the sounds he made and the way his hands fisted the sheets. I found it was more fun to tease him, to bring him to the edge and back off than to just hurry to completion. I discovered I really liked hearing him beg.

He warned me when he was close, but I didn't back off. I held him in my mouth and tasted every part of him, loving the sounds he made almost as much as I loved the way he touched and tasted me.

I crawled back up his body and lay my cheek on his chest. "You are a tease and a very bad girl," he said.

"You loved it, don't pretend you didn't."

"I did love it," he said. "I'm pretty sure I could get addicted to you very, very easily."

"And the problem is..."

"No problems here. You only have one class today, right?"

"Right," I said.

"Go hiking with me after?"

"Sure."

***

I stepped out onto the flat rock at the top of the mountain and blinked against the brilliant sunshine that hurt my eyes after the shade of the forest. After a few minutes, my eyes adjusted and I could see the view of the valley below us. "Wow," I said. "Not bad."

Worthy grabbed my waist and pulled me against him. "Doesn't live up to your views back home?" he asked, a teasing lilt in his voice.

"Hmm. Not really."

"I guess you wouldn't be interested in having dinner up here, then."

My stomach rumbled loudly, but I looked out at the view and smiled. "I suppose we could eat, if you've gone to the trouble of lugging food all the way up here."

He laughed and dropped his pack. He pulled out a blanket, spread it on the ground, and took deli sandwiches, potato salad, and lemonade from his pack. I dropped down to sit, taking in the view, the cool, crisp air, and the smell of the food. "This really is nice," I said. "Very sweet."

"My favorite girl in my favorite place."

I couldn't help my smile, or the warmth that spread from my chest down to my toes. But I couldn't lose myself to happiness quite yet. "I saw Frankie with that guy she's dating, Duran. Who actually names their kid Duran, anyway?"

He pulled two paper plates from his bag and started loading one up with food. He didn't say anything, just waited for me to go on.

"But I can't say anything to her about him, because it just hurts her feelings. She's too nice. I need to teach her to stick up for herself."

"You're a good friend to her," he said, placing the plate of food in front of me and putting a hand on my knee. "You can't feel guilty about her bad choices. You can only be there for her if she needs you."

"Maybe. But it doesn't feel like enough. And I warned Harrison to stay away from her, which seems wrong now."

"Harrison's a good guy. But he's a serial dater, and I've never known him to get serious about any girl. Frankie wants a boyfriend, not a one-night stand."

I shrugged, not willing to cut myself any slack. "Maybe Harrison would have been different with her. I should have just stayed out of it. It was a stupid, childish thing to warn him off before I really knew him."

"Well," he said, his eyes twinkling. "You are still a child. Wisdom will come with age."

I shoved his shoulder. "I'm practically the same age as you, you jerk."

He smirked. "What? Did you age two years overnight?"

"No," I said, smiling as I sensed victory. "I started college late, I'll be twenty-one in November."

He froze, his expression going cold. He recovered quickly, but I knew what I'd seen. For some reason, my age bothered him. He turned his attention to his food and stuffed a huge bite of sandwich in his mouth. I tried to ignore my own discomfort and worry. I was probably overreacting, anyway. There was no good reason for him to be bothered by my age.

I ate and waited for him to laugh or make another joke, I waited for him to touch me or kiss me, but he did nothing. He talked about econ class and about a frat party that weekend, but he looked out at the view instead of at me as he spoke. I reached out and touched his hand once, but he flinched and moved it away. As soon as we were done eating, he packed everything up and we hiked back down the mountain in silence. It wasn't unusual for us to be quiet during a hike, but he didn't speak when we got back to campus either.

I tried to make conversation, asking him about his job and his plans for the weekend, but he seemed distracted and answered each question with the fewest words possible. When we got back to my dorm, he walked me up to my door, patted my shoulder and turned away.

"What's the hurry?" I asked. "You want to come in for a while?" The truth was I didn't want to hang out with his moody ass anymore, but I did want to know what the heck was bothering him.

He faced me, but didn't meet my eyes. "I have to work. I'll call you later."

He was blowing me off. I probably should have had some pride and pretended I didn't care, but that's never been my M.O. "You said you don't have to work until nine. It's only five."

He frowned, and shook his head, like I was a pest he could shake off. "But I have that paper due tomorrow, remember? I need to work on it before I go into work."

"Okay," I said. "But that doesn't explain why you're suddenly being a moody asshole."

His eyes finally met mine, and his expression softened. "I'm sorry. I got some bad news while we were on the mountain. I guess I'm just preoccupied."

"Bad news? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," he said. "It's nothing too serious. I'll see you later, okay?" He started to turn away from me, but I just couldn't let it go.

"We didn't have cell service on the mountain top. How'd you get bad news? Smoke signals?"

He shrugged and stuck his hands in his pockets, irritation flashing on his face. "I got the text earlier, but I didn't see it until we were on the mountain. Would you like to see the text?"

His snippy tone surprised me, he'd never been anything but gentle and sweet with me before, and I took a step back. "You made me promise never to lie to you, Worthy, and I expect the same from you."

He flinched. "Are you accusing me of lying to you?"

"Are you?" I asked, because every instinct I had was telling me he wasn't being honest with me.

He dragged a hand through his hair and let out a ragged sigh. "I've got to go. I'll see you around."

He left and I couldn't think of a single thing to say to make him stay. I wasn't sure I wanted him to stay. I had enough drama in my life without adding his moody weirdness to the mix. At least that's what I told myself as I did my best to ignore the dull ache in the center of my chest.

I turned and headed toward the bakery two blocks away. I had an errand to run.

Frankie was in our room studying when I got back. She looked up at me and smiled. I put a dozen donuts on her bed. "This is the first of many apology gifts," I said.

She smiled and shook her head. "Remy, you have nothing to apologize for."

"Then consider it a consolation prize for having to put up with me and my nightmares, and my insane behavior caused by my lack of sleep. Also, it's a promise that I will not interfere in your dating life or push my opinions about who you date on you."

"You know how you could really make it up to me?" she asked.

I didn't like the gleam in her eyes. "How?"

"Let me take you shopping and buy you some cute clothes."

"Are you sure?" I asked, wishing she'd suggested tarring and feathering. "I like the clothes I have." Sure, my entire wardrobe consisted of jeans, t-shirts, sports bras, and sweatshirts, but I didn't see the problem. I was a college student.

"And they're very nice clothes, but you could use something dressier for all the dates you've been going on. You have an amazing figure, and you should show it off."

The truth was, I probably could use some new clothes. I'd torn my pants on a rock hiking with Worthy that afternoon, and I still hadn't gotten the grass stains out of the clothes I'd worn to play touch football with the guys. My uncle paid my tuition, so the money I made working in the student cafeteria was to pay for food and clothes, and I had a couple hundred dollars saved up. "If I do this," I said. "I'll be truly forgiven?"

"I've already forgiven you," Frankie said, but she didn't look at me. "This is just a bonus."

"Okay. Anything to make you happy."

She jumped off her bed and did a little happy dance. "Hurray!" She pounded on the wall. "Bell, she said yes!"

"Yippee," Bell said, her voice monotone.

"I have to study tonight," Frankie said, "but let's go one weekend soon."

I had another date that night and studying of my own to do. "Works for me."

I tried to put Worthy out of my mind and focus on getting enough schoolwork done to be able to enjoy my date that evening. Worthy hadn't told me about his problem, so it didn't make any sense for me to waste time worrying about it. At least, that's what I told myself. So, when my date, a ripped guy named Bentley, who looked like he could easily bench press me, offered to buy me a beer, I accepted, and when he offered to buy me a second, I took that one, too.

I just wanted to stop thinking, to forget about my nightmares and unanswered questions for a little while. Plus, the more I had to drink, the funnier and more interesting Bentley became.

After we ate, Bentley scooted his chair closer to mine. "It's so loud in this place," he said. "I thought I could hear you better if I got closer."

The restaurant was a bit raucous and full of half-drunk college students. He put his hand on my arm and leaned in a bit more. "Want to get some dessert?"

The way he said dessert, I was pretty sure he wasn't talking about the edible kind. I grabbed a dessert menu, dislodging his hand, and started scanning the options. _Was Bentley really flirting with me, or was the beer making me imagine it? If Bentley was flirting, did that mean Worthy had told all of the guys he was done with me?_ I pushed those thoughts aside and tried to focus on the menu. "Yum," I said. "How about this death by chocolate cake?"

He smiled. "Sounds great. Why don't we share it?"

"Sorry. I don't share dessert."

He frowned, and I realized that refusing to share dessert probably wasn't proper dating etiquette. I handed the dessert menu to Bentley, and gave him an apologetic smile. He was cute and he seemed nice enough, but he wasn't Worthy and I didn't want to give him the wrong idea. I was only dating him to get back at my cousin, I thought I'd made that perfectly clear.

Bentley recovered pretty quickly from my refusal to share my chocolate, but decided to pass on dessert. "I'm trying to watch my carb intake," he said, patting his firm stomach.

I was all for him doing whatever he needed to do to maintain his ripped physique, but avoiding dessert seemed a bit extreme. I mean, what was the point of life without dessert?

I ordered my death by chocolate cake and helped Bentley with his diet plan by not offering him even one bite of the most delicious cake I'd ever tasted. I think I saw tears in his eyes, but that may have been another beer hallucination.

Bentley suggested we go to this spot he knew and look at the stars, but I had a pretty good idea where he would expect that to lead, and I wasn't going to tempt him with something I had no intention of sharing twice in one night. So, he took me back to my dorm and tried to kiss me at my door. "I'm sorry," I said. "I never meant to give you the wrong idea. This was just supposed to be a fun, friends sort of date. I'm with Worthy."

He didn't look put out. He leaned in closer. "If that changes. Call me. I'd love to take you out again."

"Okay, I'd like that." I kissed his cheek. "Thank you for a fun night."

He walked off, and I couldn't help but watch him go. He had a very, very nice body and I felt I was sort of obligated to appreciate it since he had skipped dessert to maintain it.

"Wow," Ella said, stepping out next to me. "That is the best thing I've seen all day."

Bentley looked back over his shoulder and winked like he'd heard Ella.

"Wow, did he hear me?" she asked in a whisper.

"I don't think that's possible," I said in an equally low voice. Bentley was out of sight, but I still felt the need to be quiet.

"Unless he's a werewolf."

"If he was a werewolf he would have eaten the cake," I said.

Her brows pinched in confusion.

"He didn't get dessert because he said he's watching his carb intake. I don't think werewolves care about carb intake."

"Right. Super-fast metabolism."

"So, he's probably not a werewolf, but he might have super-powered hearing or Spidey senses."

She sighed. "I think I'm in love."

"I can introduce you."

She waved me away. "No, no. The last thing I need right now is a boyfriend. Thanks for the thought, though. I'm off to the library to study."

I waved goodbye to her and headed up to my room.

***

"I don't wear skirts," I said for the tenth time that day, as Frankie handed me another skirt, this one flouncy and pink. Skirts were completely impractical. I mean who actually knew how to move in those things without flashing the whole world? Not me.

Frankie sighed and left the dressing room with the skirt. Bell took her nose out of her book long enough to scowl at me. "You have amazing legs, Remy. You need to own at least one skirt." She leaned closer. "And you could make this a little easier on Frankie. She's really trying here."

I slumped down on the bench next to Bell and groaned. I was just so grumpy. I was in no state to be around other people. I needed to be outside for a run or a hike. I hadn't heard from Worthy since our mountaintop picnic eight days before and Byron wasn't giving me any information about him. And I was pissed. It had been Worthy's idea for us to get together, he'd pursued me, and then he just inexplicably vanished? It didn't make any sense. I'd called him, left notes on his door, and I'd heard nothing. He hadn't even been in biology class. "I'm sorry," I said. "I'm just in a bad mood."

Bell wrapped an arm around my shoulders. "He was the first guy you'd ever dated, Remy. He seemed nice enough, but he's an asshole. Find someone to help you forget him and move on."

My throat tightened a bit at the thought of forgetting Worthy, but I wasn't going to waste my life mooning over some guy who didn't want me. Life was too short and I should enjoy as much dessert as possible. And by dessert I did not mean the edible, digestible stuff. I flipped my phone open and dialed Bentley.

"Remy," he said, like he'd just been sitting by the phone waiting for me to call and was so happy to hear from me. Exactly the kind of man I needed in my life.

"Hi, Bentley," I said, my mood improving already. "Want to go out tonight?"

"I'd love to. There's a new club that just opened. We could go dancing."

"Perfect. Pick me up at eight."

I hung up and pushed aside all thoughts of Worthy. Frankie walked back in with an armload of pants.

"I need a dancing skirt, Frankie," I said. "I'm going out tonight."

Frankie squealed and threw the pants at me.

***

Bentley put his hands on my hips and pulled me tight against him, swaying with me to the fast beat of the bass, and I laughed. The club was packed, we'd been dancing so long I'd lost track of time, and I loved skirts. I loved the way Bentley's eyes had lit up when he'd picked me up for our date, the way he'd scanned my body starting with my toes, and the way his attention had lingered on my bare legs. He wasn't Worthy, but he was fun.

I tipped my head back and looked up at him. He leaned in and kissed me, pulling my hips tighter against his. I felt a moment's guilt at kissing someone other than Worthy, before I reminded myself that Worthy had left me. I deserved to find happiness. So, I kissed Bentley back. He was a good kisser and he made me forget everything for a moment, but I didn't feel the connection to him I'd felt to Worthy. I only felt sad. I pulled away from him, and danced with him some more, but it wasn't the same. He had hope in his eyes, now, and I knew I couldn't be that girl for him. Maybe with time, but I had to get Worthy out of my head first.

Bentley didn't try to kiss me again until we were back at my dorm. When he leaned in and pressed his lips to mine, I kissed him back, but I pulled away quickly. "Thank you for a fun night."

He took a step back and studied me. "But don't call?"

I wished I could tell him he was wrong. I hated to be the person to kill the hope in his eyes, to take the smile off his face. "I'm sorry. I just—"

He backed up, hands in the air. "It's okay, Remy, I get it. For what's it worth, Worthy's an idiot."

"Thanks," I said. "If I hadn't met him first..."

"Yeah," Bentley said, a bit wistfully. "Well, if you ever change your mind, you know where to find me."

I nodded and he left. I watched him walk away, and he checked out a girl in tight jeans as he passed her. He wouldn't be sad or lonely for too long. I went inside and up to my room, determined to cancel all the rest of my dates with Byron's friends.

Worthy stood from his seat on my bed when I walked into my room.

"I'm sorry, Remy," Frankie said. "He said he had to see you."

I gave Frankie a smile of forgiveness, walked into the room, and sat next to her on her bed. My heart raced and my chest felt tight. I hated that I had that reaction around Worthy when he obviously felt so little for me.

"I'm sorry, Remy," he said. "I had to go home for a few days, and I—"

"Lost the ability to dial a phone or speak?" I asked. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew I should give him a chance to explain, in case there had been some family emergency that had taken him home, but I didn't care. I was hurt and I didn't want to be understanding or nice.

"No." He ran a hand through his dark hair and grimaced. "I should have called and I'm sorry. I can't explain it all to you, now, but it has to do with my family."

"Are they okay?" I asked, my anger fading just a bit.

He shook his head. "Yeah, they're fine. I just...How are you doing? How are your nightmares?"

He looked so sad and vulnerable that a part of me wanted to cross the small room and wrap my arms around him, but everything had changed between us and I didn't know what he was to me anymore. I sighed, not sure what to think or how to feel. "I'm fine, Worthy. I don't understand how you could call me your girlfriend one moment and disappear with no explanation the next. I don't need to know your family's business, but I need something to understand why you couldn't pick up a phone and call or text. I would have understood."

He jiggled his knee under his elbow and looked toward the door like he was antsy and wanted to get away from me. "I can't explain it, Remy, I'm sorry." His gaze refocused on me. "I'm so sorry if I hurt you or caused you any pain. I never meant to." He paused, ran his hand through his hair and swallowed hard. "Look, I get that you're pissed at me and you have every right to be, but if you ever wanted to look into your past, into your nightmares, I have a friend who could help."

"What do you know about my past?" He knew about the nightmares, but I'd never told him how little I knew about my father or Frankie's suspicions that my bad dreams were based on reality.

"Nothing," he said, dropping his eyes to his feet and shaking his head. "I don't know anything. But when you stayed over you called out in your sleep, you called for your father. I just thought...I wondered if the nightmares might be based on some real experience you had as a kid, and I know someone who can hack into any computer system. He might be able to get you some answers."

I glared at Frankie, but she shook her head. She hadn't been talking to Worthy about her theories. "I know everything I need to know about my past," I said. "My nightmares are better, and I don't need your help."

His grin was crooked and mocking. "Right, Remy. You don't need anyone, do you? And you definitely don't need me."

He left and I let him go.

The door closed behind him and I looked at Frankie. "Am I wrong to be mad at him?" I got to my feet and started pacing. "And did _he_ just break up with _me_?"

"I think so," Frankie said. "I mean, I think you have every right to be angry with him, but there could be a really good reason he can't explain himself."

"What reason?" I asked. "What could have possibly happened, beyond him losing the charger for his phone, which he could explain, that would make it impossible for him to let me know he was still alive and would be back in eight days?"

Frankie frowned. "None?"

"None," I said. "I may have been sheltered, I may have never had a boyfriend before, but I know how a guy should treat someone he cares about and that's now how Worthy treated me."

"But do you really think you can't work it out?"

I stopped and stared at her, shocked at her willingness to forgive and forget. "No, Frankie, I don't. And even if I did, he broke up with _me_ after _he_ acted like a jerk."

My phone rang and I answered it before Frankie attempted to defend Worthy again.

"I want you to come home," my uncle said. His voice was a bit breathy, like he was running.

"What's going on?" I looked around at my little room, still piled with boxes on my side, and I had a sinking feeling that I wouldn't be living there much longer. I wondered if that was the real reason I hadn't unpacked, because I had suspected my uncle wouldn't let me stay.

"I'm in the truck, sweetheart. I'm on my way to you."

"What? Why?"

"Byron told me about the nightmares, sweetie. They aren't getting any better and that means you're in the wrong place. You aren't ready to be out there on your own."

I would interrogate Byron later, but for now I had to calm down my uncle.

"You don't need to come here. I'm fine. I'm handling the nightmares."

"But you shouldn't have to, sweetie. You need to come home where you'll be safe, where you won't have the nightmares."

I fisted my hand so hard, my nails bit into my palm. "No. I'm not going to leave. I can't live at home with you for the rest of my life, Uncle Leon. I have to get over my nightmares and live on my own sometime. I can do this. I'm strong enough for this."

He sighed. "If you were ready, you wouldn't be having nightmares."

"Please," I said. "Just give me one more week. If I'm still having nightmares, I'll come home for the weekend."

He huffed and swore, but he finally relented to letting me stay one more week. As soon as he hung up, I called Byron.

"Hey, Remington," he said, sounding tired. "Is this about Worthy? Because I'd be happy to kick his ass for you. He's only been back for a day and we're already considering kicking him out because he's so damn grumpy."

"No." I clenched my teeth to keep from yelling or cursing at him. "I'm calling because you told Uncle Leon my nightmares are getting worse."

"I'm worried about you, Remington. I just want to help you, and I thought Dad might have some ideas how to do that."

"He thinks the cure for my nightmares is to move back home with him. He was in his truck on the way here to take me home."

"Shit, I'm sorry, Remington. I didn't think—"

"Who told you the nightmares were getting worse? Because the only person who might know that is Frankie and she wouldn't tell you that, because it isn't true."

"Remington, it doesn't matter—"

"I'm your cousin, Byron, but I will cut you out of my life completely. I will transfer to another school thousands of miles away if you don't stop interfering in my life. And you tell whoever told you about my nightmares the same thing. I don't need a babysitter, and I don't need anyone to worry about me."

"Remington—"

"Unless you're going to tell me who's running to you with stories about me or you're going to apologize, I don't want to hear it."

Silence reigned for a couple of minutes. "I am sorry, Remington, but I was just trying to help. I—"

I hung up on him and threw my phone on the bed. It bounced off onto the floor, but I didn't care. There was no one I wanted to talk to. I looked at Frankie, who was pretending to study. "You didn't tell Byron anything about my nightmares did you?"

She just gave me a look filled with disbelief and disgust in answer to my question.

I raised my hands in the air. "Sorry. I had to ask." I grabbed my running shoes from the floor and headed for the door. "I'm going for a run. If anyone comes around looking for me, tell them I'm unavailable until further notice."

### CHAPTER EIGHT

I didn't see Worthy again until my biology class two days later. He sat three rows ahead of me. He looked back at me once, but I pretended not to see him, and he turned back around. I couldn't help the irrational anger that bubbled up. He disappeared, dumped me, and then _he_ avoided _me_? How could this be the same guy who'd made me laugh, and held me so sweetly?

So, I chased him down after class. I grabbed his arm as he was about to walk into the student union. He turned, and when he saw me, he looked right through me, his expression blank and closed off. "Remy, I thought—"

"Yeah," I said. "I get it, you dumped me. But we're going to see each other, we have friends in common, and I just don't want things to be weird between us." Okay, so that wasn't what I'd planned to say to him when I'd grabbed him, but I was proud of how calm and adult I sounded. Definitely better than the pound of crazy I wanted to unleash on him.

"I'll lay low for a while." He dropped his eyes to mine and his expression softened, his eyes tinting amber. "I'm not sure I can be in the same room with you right now and not want to touch you or hold you."

"So, why'd you break up with me, then?"

He shook his head. "Because you deserve better, Remy. You deserve a hell of a lot better than me." He walked away and I watched him go, feeling like he was taking a big piece of my heart with him.

"Want to tell me what that was all about?" Harrison asked.

"Want to tell me how you really feel about Frankie?"

He scowled. "What are you doing tonight? I feel like causing some trouble."

Hmm, trouble versus sitting in my dorm room thinking about things I didn't want to consider much less dwell on. It sounded like exactly what I needed. Unfortunately, I was an overworked student. "I've got a paper to write, tonight."

He shrugged. "Some other time, then."

"What kind of trouble are you getting into tonight?"

He grinned wickedly and leaned in close to whisper in my ear. "It's a surprise. You'll find out if you ever go with me."

"A man of mystery, huh?"

He grinned. "Not unlike your man, Worthy."

"He's not my man anymore."

His grin widened. "Oh, he's still your man, alright. Just cut the guy some slack. He's going through some tough shit, but he's a good guy."

"What's he going through?"

Harrison placed a large hand on my shoulder and squeezed. "I don't know the details, but it doesn't matter. Think about what you know about Worthy and about the way he treats people. Really think about it and then decide if you believe he's a bad guy."

"Pretty words, Harrison. But pretty words can't take the stink off a skunk. He vanished without a word. There's no excuse for that."

"There's no excuse, but maybe there's a good reason."

***

I spent the afternoon at the library, working on my paper, but headed back to the dorm to see if anyone wanted to get dinner with me. I found Frankie and Duran cuddled up on her bed. He was on top of her when I walked in, so I cleared my throat really loudly. Another roommate might have turned around and walked back out, given them some more alone time, but I felt protective of Frankie and I didn't like her boyfriend.

Frankie and Duran sat up as soon as I cleared my throat, and Duran grinned like the cat who'd just discovered a rabbit warren. Frankie blushed and gave me a weak smile.

"Hi, you two," I said. "I'm looking for company for dinner, you want to join me?"

Frankie looked to Duran, who kissed her cheek and smiled. "It's up to you, babe. We can go out like we planned or we can go with Remy. I don't mind either way. Just as long as you go to that party with me, later."

Frankie's eyes widened and she bit her lip, unsure.

I couldn't help my instinct to rescue her. "You two should go out together," I said. "I've already interrupted one of your dates."

Duran smiled and Frankie's shoulders relaxed. "Want to have breakfast together in the morning?" she asked.

"I'm working the breakfast shift, tomorrow," I said. "How about lunch?"

Her smile brightened and looked more genuine. "Sounds great."

"Good." I left the two of them alone and dragged Bell and Selene to dinner with me at the cafeteria.

***

The nightmare was familiar and yet different. I woke gasping for air and terrified, trying to stay calm and not wake Frankie. She didn't move in her bed and I glanced at the red numbers on my alarm clock to see that it was two in the morning. I was exhausted, but I didn't want to sleep and risk another nightmare. So, I got up, gathered my things as quietly as I could, and headed down the hall for an early shower. I didn't have to be at work until six, and my shower was done by three. I sat in the common area, my brain whirring a hundred miles an hour, and waited for the sun to rise. As soon as I figured it was a decent hour, I picked up my phone and I called him.

He answered on the third ring, his voice husky with sleep. "Remy?"

"I want to take you up on your offer," I said. "If it's still good."

"Offer?"

"You said you have a friend who can help me learn more about my past, can he still help?"

"Yes, of course. I'll set it up and call you. Are you okay? Did something happen?"

I remembered the dream, remembered my father, bloody on the ground staring up at me. I remembered how much it had hurt when he'd said my name in a pleading tone, begging me with his eyes and his voice to help him. "I had a name. And it wasn't Remy."

"What was it?" Worthy said, a desperation in his tone that made no sense to me.

"Rachel. My father called me Rachel."

***

Worthy drove down a short, tree-lined driveway, near where we'd had our paintball battle, and parked in front of what appeared to be a museum or a fancy hotel. I couldn't imagine anyone lived in that ornate, stone building with so many windows it was hard to look at as the evening sun reflected off the glass. A large fountain in front of the house shot water into the cool evening air, the sun making rainbows in its spray.

I didn't look at Worthy. Couldn't look at him. He'd tried to talk to me when he'd picked me up, but I told him I didn't want to talk, I just wanted his help. I didn't need any more drama in my life. I had enough of my own. And that drama, having seen my father in a dream, looking at me and calling me Rachel, having felt not just a recognition but a sense of certainty that Rachel was me, made me feel nothing. I felt hollowed out and numb. I wanted to go back to sleep and wake up and pretend none of this had ever happened. But sleep only brought more nightmares.

I opened my car door and stepped out. Worthy was by my side in an instant, his hand warm on the small of my back, hot even through the cotton of my t-shirt. I should have pushed him away, but I couldn't find the strength. I needed that comfort and support, even if it was false.

Together, we walked up the sweeping stairway to the front door of the house. With each step, I started to feel things. My stomach flipped with the first step and a sick sense of betrayal stabbed. Betrayal from my uncle for lying to me about the most fundamental aspect of who I was. Betrayal from Worthy for being able to walk away so easily. With the next step, sadness arose. Sadness that my life, and everything I thought I knew about it was false and needed to be stripped away, to be replaced by a reality where fathers lay on concrete and bled onto the street. Step. Loss. The family I'd always known might not even be mine. Step. Fear of who I might really be. Step. Fear of what my life had once been. Step. Fear of a life alone, without the support of an uncle who'd lied to me and cousins who weren't really mine. Step. Fear of—

Worthy raised his hand to knock, but the door opened before his knuckles touched the wood. I had seen big muscular guys before, Worthy, my cousins, but the man standing before us was like a different breed. He was Arnold Schwarzenegger in his prime, Lou Ferrigno as the hulk, John Cena at his most pumped. His hair fell to his shoulders in messy waves and it looked like he hadn't shaved in days, his face sporting a stubble that failed to hide an ugly scar that bisected his face horizontally, from ear to ear, across his nose and both cheeks. He smiled at us and I took a step back. His smile was scarier than most people's scowls.

"Hey Worthy," the man said, his voice scratchy and low, like he didn't use it much. "Who's the piece of ass?"

Worthy's hand tightened on my back, but he smiled at the big man. "Play nice, Herc, or I'll take my money and go." I recognized the name. This was the guy who owned the property where we'd played paintball, no wonder his house was close to the same location. I wondered why I hadn't seen him at the game.

Herc shrugged and stepped back, waving us both inside. "Step into my web, little spiders."

I looked at Worthy to see if this was an elaborate prank, but he just shook his head and smiled. "He's all bark."

I wasn't convinced, but I didn't have a lot of other options.

I walked behind Herc and next to Worthy through the house. The first three rooms we went through were completely empty, the fourth was piled high with broken furniture, most of it covered in a thin layer of dust. Then we passed through a long hall to a room filled with computer screens and dim light. Herc sat in one of the desk chairs, looking like a giant in a human-sized seat, and gave us an expectant look.

Worthy sighed. "He wants to know everything we know."

"Doesn't talk much?"

Herc spun in his finger in the universal sign for 'get on with it already.'

I rolled my eyes. "My name is Remington Alice McKinney, but I think my real name might be Rachel Vinton." I'd heard the men in the nightmares call my father, Vinton, and I'd assumed it was his first name. Until he'd called me Rachel and it had felt right. As right, as the name Rachel Vinton felt. "I don't know what my real middle name might be. As far as I've always known, my birthday is November 16, 1994, but I don't know if that's real, either. My uncle is Leon Mitchell McKinney, but I suspect that might not be his real name. I believe I lived in Roanoke, Virginia, until I moved in with my uncle. I might have been born there."

Herc, who had been staring at me without moving, spun in his chair and started typing madly.

"That means we're dismissed," Worthy said. He pushed me toward the door we'd entered by and out into the hall. "He'll let us know when he's got something."

I nodded and Worthy led me though several empty rooms to a state-of-the-art and spotless kitchen that was bigger than the entire first floor of my uncle's house. "Are you hungry?"

I shook my head, dread and nerves having a rave in my belly.

"Look, Remy, I know you don't want to believe this, but I really do care about you. I've missed you. You have every reason to be angry at me and to never trust me again, but it feels wrong not to be with you." He took three steps until he stood right in front of me. "I'll do—"

I put my hand flat on his chest, his heart thumping beneath my palm, and pushed. He took one step back. "I'm just starting to believe it's possible that everything I've ever known about myself is a lie. I don't even know who I am anymore. I can't think about you and me right now."

He took another step back. "I know you, Remy. You're tough and you aren't afraid of anything. You work hard and you play hard and you're smart and funny and stubborn as hell and nothing we might learn about you today could ever change those things about you or change the way I feel about you."

I knew what he was saying was perfectly reasonable, but dread had lodged in my racing heart and my roiling gut and I felt certain he was wrong.

"Are you sure you aren't hungry?" he asked.

I nodded and forced myself to look at him. The worry and vulnerability on his face made me want to reassure him, and I wanted to be reassured by him, to lean into him and let him hold me up. But I wasn't sure I trusted him to be there when I needed him. I wouldn't lean on him until I was sure he was strong enough to hold me up.

"Okay, then," he said. "I've got something to show you that I think you'll like."

I considered staying on my kitchen stool where I knew I was safe from falling under his spell again, where I could just pretend he wasn't there. I felt fragile, like the slightest wind or bad news might shatter me, and I didn't want Worthy to be nice to me, I didn't want to remember how much fun I'd had with him, or admit to myself how much I wanted to crawl onto his lap and let him be strong for me. Sitting still had never really been my style, though, so I stood and followed him to what looked like a pantry.

It turned out to be a door to a small hallway that led around the back of the kitchen to what had probably once been a ballroom, if the house was truly old enough to have been around in the days when people had balls. Instead of glossy wood floors, elegant portraits, and sparkling chandeliers, however, the room hosted smith machines, free weights, mats, pull-up bars, weight benches, an indoor track, and a few stationary cardio machines, including a row machine. On the back wall, running the entire length of the room and rising up through the ceiling, was a climbing wall. There were mats on the floor and safety harnesses, and my fear of what Herc would find out about me was momentarily forgotten.

"How do you know about this room?" I asked.

"Herc lets me come here and use it sometimes. When he's in a good mood."

"He's your friend?" I asked, finding it hard to imagine Herc hanging out and laughing with Worthy.

He snorted. "I wouldn't go that far. He tolerates me. Harrison introduced us last year when I was looking for help with some research for a class project."

"Right," I said. "Harrison mentioned he and Herc went to school together."

"I'm pretty sure Herc is Harrison's best friend."

I looked around the enormous room and tried to picture Herc and Harrison hanging out in it together, the Greek god and the bad boy. "So, is this just to look at or can we actually climb that wall?"

He grinned and led me to the wall. "There are different sections. Herc had it built for himself, so the variations of difficulty range from hard to damn near impossible, which is probably the only reason he had the safety lines installed."

"A bit of a daredevil?"

"Yeah, he doesn't leave the house anymore except for the paintball games every once in a while, but according to Harrison, Herc was pretty wild back in the day. They used to call him the Beast, Harrison still does." Worthy turned to face me. "What kind of challenge are you in the mood for? Hard? Or impossible?"

That was a no-brainer. I wanted something so hard I wouldn't able to think about anything beyond finding my next handhold. I'd been climbing boulders and mountainsides since I'd moved in with Uncle Leon. "I'll go with the damn-near impossible, please."

Worthy's eyes widened for a moment, but he recovered quickly and led me to the far right-side of the wall. Strapped into the safety ropes, we climbed in silence, both panting and working hard to find hand and footholds to move us up. The work was exactly the kind of distraction I needed and peace washed over me as I climbed. I wished I could stay on that wall forever, but before I even realized it, we ascended past the ceiling of the gym room and rose toward the ceiling of another, second-story room. I didn't bother to turn and look to see what that room held, I just kept climbing.

I reached the ceiling about thirty seconds before Worthy and we grinned at each other when he made it. We were both sweaty, my muscles ached, and I felt more relaxed and peaceful than I had in over three weeks. "We can rappel back down to the gym or we can hang out in this room," Worthy said.

I turned and saw a ten-by-twenty room with a full kickboxing gym. "Wow, Herc really likes to work out."

He waited silently for my answer.

"Sure." I was definitely in favor of continuing with distractions. "We can stop here. I've never tried kickboxing before, though."

He shrugged. "It's just punching and kicking. I think you can probably pick it up quickly."

We rappelled down and leapt over the space between wall and floor. We unhitched ourselves from the safety gear, and Worthy gave me my first lesson in kickboxing.

I don't know how long we spent kicking and punching bags, but I know when Herc walked in, every muscle in my body was sore and my endorphins were rocking. As soon as I saw Herc, though, I just felt exhausted and a bit sick.

We followed Herc back down to the kitchen where he'd laid out papers on the breakfast bar.

"I found no birth records for a Remington Alice McKinney," Herc said as soon as we were seated. My heart hit the floor and my breath caught, but Herc didn't notice. Worthy wrapped an arm around my shoulders, and I let him. "Your uncle clearly has connections, because the paperwork the school has on you met their standards. Though their standards are ridiculously low. I did find birth records for a Rachel Blue Vinton, born in Roanoke Virginia on February 8, 1994 to Eunice and Lara Vinton. That was all I could find on her. There's no record of her ever being enrolled in any of the local schools. I couldn't even find medical records for her. I found a death record for Lara Vinton, who died of complications from the birth of her daughter on February 15, 1994. I also found arrest records for Eunice Vinton, beginning in 2003. His first arrest was for drug possession. Since the amount found on him was small, he was fined and released after three days in prison. He was arrested again in 2009 for possession with intent to distribute and served a year in prison. Last year, he was arrested for the execution-style murder of an undercover cop. He's still in prison, serving a sixty-year sentence."

I couldn't breathe. My chest hurt and my breath was stuck there, squeezing tight around my heart. Worthy pushed my head between my knees and rubbed my back. "Breathe," he said. "Just breathe in and out slowly."

I wanted to push him away and tell him I didn't need his help or his comfort, but I was pretty sure I had to accept his assistance or I'd stop breathing altogether. I listened to his calm voice and I worked to regulate my breaths, in and out, and to slow my racing heart. When I felt calm, I sat up slowly enough to keep my head from spinning.

As soon as I was up, Herc pulled out three pictures and laid them flat on the table in front of us. "Herc, I don't think—"

But it was too late for whatever Worthy was going to say, because I'd already seen the pictures. One was the bloody man from my nightmares, my father, looking young and happy. One was a woman I'd never seen before, but who looked an awful lot like me. The third picture was of the man from my worst nightmare, the man who'd tried to hurt me. I shot to my feet and took a step back, sweat breaking out on my skin, my heart racing.

"What is it?" Worthy asked. He took my hand and pulled me in tight against him. "You're safe here. Everything's okay."

I squeezed against him, letting his warmth and his presence remind me that I wasn't inside a nightmare, I was just looking at a picture. "Who is he?" I asked, my voice shaking.

"That's your father, your mother, and Arle Stanley," Herc said, pointing each of the pictures in turn. "He was named as an associate of your father's in a news article." He pointed last to the man from my nightmare, the man who'd attacked me, Arle Stanley. Suddenly, I was back in that night again, with that man looming over me, his hot, odorous breath in my face, his body heavy on mine, his gun cold against my flesh. I heard someone calling my name, but the sound was distant, and I ignored it. I needed to know what happened that night, because it wasn't a nightmare, it was real and it involved that man.

I remembered I'd been alone. My father had to work and, even at eight, I knew enough to know he'd done me a favor by not taking me with him. My aunt was supposed to be watching me, but she'd had to work at the last minute. She had a good job as a nurse. I hadn't had any way to let my dad know I was alone, and I didn't want him to know, so I told her I'd caught him before he left and he was going to stay home with me. I didn't want him to decide to take me with him to his job. I'd been eating ice cream and watching a movie on TV when I'd heard the scratching at the door and the smelly man had broken in. I hadn't even had time to run and hide. I only had time to grab the hunting knife Daddy kept in the end table drawer and start to run, before he grabbed my hair and knocked me to the ground. The knife slipped out of my grasp and slid across the slick hard wood floor, clattering to the tune of the cartoon movie I'd been watching.

He pressed a gun to my chin and started apologizing. He didn't want to kill me, he said, but my father had ruined his life and he had to pay. Since, my daddy wasn't there, I was going to pay in his place. My fingers closed around the bone handle of the hunting knife as he told me about his little boy, who was the same age as me. He told me the boy would never respect him, because of what my father had made him do. I stabbed him in the ribs, and someone slapped me.

I blinked and saw Worthy's face, apology in his eyes. "What happened?" he asked.

"That man," I said, needing to get the words out, needing to tell somebody, regardless of the consequences. "I killed him."

Worthy shook his head, and smiled. "No, Remy, no. You were only a little girl."

I pushed away from him, not wanting him to have to touch me, to have to touch a murderer. He tried to follow me, but I shook my head, tears streaming down my cheeks. "He attacked me. He had a gun and I...I killed him."

Worthy paled. "No, Remy. You must be remembering wrong. You couldn't have killed a grown man." He said the words, but doubt made his voice weak. He wanted to believe what he was saying, but he didn't.

I pushed away from him and started out of the kitchen. "I need to go." I headed toward the nearest door and realized I had no idea how to get out of that house. I was trapped and the word murderer kept repeating over and over in my head.

"Remy, wait," Worthy said. "I'll take you back."

His words reminded me where I was, and I looked at Herc. "What do I owe you for this?"

"Worthy paid," Herc said, his attention on the papers he was stacking.

I looked at Worthy. "I'll pay you back. How much do I owe you?"

He shook his head, looking confused and sad. "No. I wanted to do this for you. I won't take your money."

I forgot my worries for a moment. "That's sweet, but this has nothing to do with you. I'll pay."

He nodded, his smile not reaching his eyes. "We'll talk about it later. Right now, I'm taking you back to your dorm."

"No. I need to know why I've been living with a stranger all these years. I need to see Byron."

Worthy didn't touch me as we walked back through Herc's mansion, he didn't put his hand on my back to guide me. I missed the warmth of his touch, but I was glad he kept his distance. I was a murderer. I deserved no comfort from anyone.

"What did he do?" Worthy asked when we were back in his car and on the road back to campus. "What did he do in your nightmare that made you think you would have killed him for it?"

"He had a gun to my chin. He was angry at my father, but my father wasn't home, so he was going to kill me instead." I felt certain he would have killed me if I hadn't killed him. I understood that anyone would say I'd acted in self-defense, but I could remember the feel of the knife gripped in my hand, the feel of it as it sunk into his body. I'd done that, I'd taken someone's life.

"If that's true," Worthy said. "Then he deserved to die."

I swung around to look at him, shocked. "What do you mean _if_ that's true? You don't think he tried to kill me? Why did I recognize that picture if my nightmare isn't based on a real memory?"

"That's not what I meant." He sighed. "I'm sorry. Of course, I believe your nightmare is real, but you were just a kid. Things might not have played out the way you remember them."

"Maybe," I said, but his logic annoyed me and felt like another betrayal.

When he pulled up at the frat house, he twisted in his seat and faced me. "Remy, I want you to know that no matter what you find out, it won't change how I feel about you. I...care about you and I'll do anything to help you."

I nodded, unshed tears burning my eyes. He might think he would still care about me, but I wasn't even sure who I was anymore. "I'll let you know what I find out." I pushed the door open and fled inside and up to my cousin's room.

Byron wasn't there. I almost screamed in frustration, but I knew that it wouldn't do me any good. I sat on the edge of his bed and pulled out my phone to text him. He was probably in class, and I knew I should be worrying about my own classes and my econ paper due on Monday, but I couldn't think past the refrain of _murderer, Rachel Blue Vinton, living father_ in my brain. It was almost more than I could take, and my head started to pound. I texted Byron and threw the phone and myself back on the bed to wait for a response.

"I don't think he's going to have any of the answers you want," Worthy said from the doorway.

I didn't sit up or look at him. "Go away."

"No," he said. "I decided something on the way up here. I'm not going to let you go through all this alone."

"I don't want you here." I didn't want him there, because I had a feeling I'd only found out a tiny bit of the truth and the rest of it was going to be worse. If the nightmare about the man trying to kill me was real, then the nightmares about my father being beaten up and bloody on more than one occasion were also real. Eunice Vinton may have gotten caught only three times, but I was pretty sure he'd committed a good deal more than three crimes.

The bed moved and I knew Worthy sat next to me. "No, but you need me here. I'm not leaving."

My phone dinged and I picked it up, glad for any excuse not to continue that conversation. I read the message and threw the phone back on the bed with a curse.

"What's wrong?" Worthy asked.

"Byron's got some big project due next week and he's working with his team on it tonight and all weekend."

"He won't have the answers you want, anyway."

"I know." I wanted to push Worthy off the bed, wanted to hit him for refusing to go away, for being a witness to my shame.

"You didn't want answers from him," he said, leaning over me. "You wanted him to take you to your uncle."

"Uncle Leon owes me an explanation. But if I call him, he'll just refuse to tell me anything, as usual."

"He's not the only one you could go see for answers."

I nodded, my throat tight. "Leon is more my father than my own father ever was, and he deserves the chance to explain what he did."

"Then I'll take you to him."

My heart leapt with hope, before crashing back down in sadness again. I wanted to see my uncle and get answers more than anything, but I couldn't drag Worthy down that rabbit hole with me. "No," I said. "I'll take a bus or...maybe rent a car."

"I'm driving you. If you insist on being stubborn and taking the bus or renting a car, I'll take the same bus or follow your rental car."

I glared up at him, but he seemed unfazed. "Wouldn't you rather just wait here, like a good boy, and pretend you never met me? I'm sure you'd have no problem finding a girlfriend without my baggage, who doesn't mind you flitting off for days at a time with no explanation." Uncle Leon wasn't well known for his tact or gentleness, and I expected what he had to tell me would be brutal. When Tennyson's hunting dog had been killed by a coyote, Leon told him about it matter-of-factly over breakfast. Tennyson, who was twelve at the time and the most sensitive of my cousins, threw up all over his plate of pancakes.

Worthy gripped my chin in his hand and looked into my eyes. "I'm sorry, Remy. I don't know how else to say it. If I was a different guy, I could lie to you about where I went and why I didn't call, but I can't lie to you. I also can't tell you why I left and why I didn't contact you, except to say that it involved my family. I want you to be my girlfriend, but if that's not what you want, I understand. Either way, I'm not going to let you make this trip alone. I'll tie you to Byron's bed if I have to."

"Suit yourself," I said, pretending nonchalance. I didn't doubt Worthy could and would follow through on his threat, but I could still pretend I had the upper hand. "We're leaving now." I marched out of the room, but my decisive action didn't work, since Worthy had the car keys and insisted on having time to pack a bag.

### CHAPTER NINE

By the time we got on the road, it was after midnight and I was exhausted. Worthy, who drank a cup of coffee while he packed, insisted on driving so I could sleep. I only meant to take a little cat nap, but when I woke up, the sun was rising, and Worthy's car was struggling to make it up a familiar mountain road.

"You sure this heap of junk is going to make it up the mountain?"

"Well, good morning sunshine," he said. "How convenient of you to wake up when we're fifteen minutes from your home."

I felt a twinge of guilt, but I got over it quick. "You insisted on driving. You could be in your own bed right now, and I could have been sleeping on a bus."

He smirked. "A bus that would have dropped you off in town, so you would have been hiking up the mountain this morning."

He had a point, so I ignored him. I pulled out my phone and called into work sick. Then I texted Harrison to take notes for me and Worthy in biology.

Worthy glanced at me, his eyes shifty. "Do you think we ought to give your uncle a heads-up?"

"Nope. He lied to me. I don't think he deserves much of anything." I rubbed my eyes and looked out the window. The sun's rays were a brilliant yellow illuminating the fall colors, and something in my chest loosened and settled as Worthy's rusty car chugged up into the mountains. Home. I was home.

"Since, we're going to ask him for information, I just thought we might want to start out polite."

"Nope."

The car kicked as Worthy tried to accelerate up a steep bit of road and I let him focus on driving while I took in the beauty of the mountains. The refrain I'd started to get used to, _murderer, Rachel Blue Vinton, living father,_ faded a bit in the face of the eternal mountains and the brilliant fall day. It reminded me of waking up on sunny days, and having breakfast with my uncle. He'd homeschooled me, but he worked full-time, so my schooling usually took place in the evenings and I did a lot of work through online courses. Leon believed in education and hard work, but he also believed in enjoying the beauty of the mountains. He said a day like this was a gift and sitting inside all day was spitting in God's face.

He'd never gotten upset with me when I'd spent a day in the woods instead of doing my schoolwork. He'd ask me what I'd seen and what I'd learned, saying a day in the forest was as much an education as a day at a computer screen with book learning, as he called it. His attitude was a big part of the reason it took me until I was nineteen to finish my high school curriculum. I was pretty certain that if Leon had insisted I stay inside and study, though, I wouldn't have done as well as I did.

"What was your nightmare about?" Worthy asked, interrupting my reverie.

I'd forgotten the nightmare, until Worthy said that. When I thought about it, I realized I'd dreamed again about the man attacking me. I could still feel the slight resistance as I shoved the blade of the hunting knife between his ribs. "I don't remember," I said. "Was I screaming or something embarrassing?"

"No. I could just tell. And you don't ever have to be embarrassed about anything with me. I won't judge you."

"Turn here," I said, almost missing the entrance for our driveway. I'd never left the house to be able to return to it.

Worthy slammed on the brakes and spun his car into the driveway. It was dirt and pot-holed, to discourage people who didn't belong there from exploring.

"Are you sure we shouldn't let him know we're here?" Worthy asked again.

"Stop being so pusillanimous. It's fine."

We bounced down the long driveway, my excitement rising as we neared my uncle's house. There was the tree fort we'd built when I was ten. There was the old chicken coop that had ended up being a prison for our games of war after all the chickens were eaten by coyotes. And there was the house, a white, clapboard, two-story farmhouse with a wrap-around porch. And standing on that porch was my uncle, pointing a shotgun at Worthy's car.

"Um, Remy. Want to let him know now?"

Worthy stopped the car between potholes, and I got out and waved my arms. "Uncle Leon," I yelled. "It's me, Remington."

Uncle Leon lowered his shotgun and squinted into the sun to see me. "Remington!" he shouted. He bolted off the porch and ran to me. Actually, with his barrel chest and big body, he lumbered more like a bear. His face was lined by the passage of forty-eight years, but he was still a handsome and fit man. I ran to him and he scooped me up and swung me around. "It's so good to see you, baby girl."

He dropped me to my feet and froze. "Who's your friend?" he asked, his jaw tight.

Worthy stepped forward and extended his hand. "I'm Lawrence Hayworth, sir."

Leon gripped Worthy's hand and shook it like he was trying to rip his arm from his body. I hadn't completely forgiven Worthy, but my anger toward him had started to soften. He'd been good to me, and I should be able to cut him some slack for disappearing for private family stuff. He was entitled to his secrets, especially if they weren't his to reveal.

"Uncle Leon." I placed a hand over my uncle's and squeezed. "Let him go. Worthy's a good guy and he's been a good friend to me."

Leon relaxed a bit, but his frown remained. "Worthy?"

Worthy cleared his throat. "That's what my friends call me, sir. I'm sorry to intrude, but Remy needs to talk to you, and I didn't want her to make the trip alone."

Leon paled. "Remington? What's going on?"

My heart was pounding so hard I found it hard to breathe, and I wanted nothing more than to forget everything I'd come there to say to him. I knew it would change things between us, maybe destroy our relationship. Worthy laced his fingers through mine and squeezed, and a bit of calm washed over me. I needed to know the truth. "Remington's not my name is it? I'm Rachel Blue Vinton and my father was never an accountant."

Leon swayed on his feet, and I got ready to catch him in case he passed out. Maybe I should have broken it to him more gently. He pressed a calloused hand to his greying temple and seemed to recover. "Why don't you two come on in? I'll fix you some breakfast and we can talk."

Leon turned and started for the house. Worthy pulled me back when I tried to follow him inside. "I can wait out here until you're done."

I considered his offer. "No. I'm tired of secrets. You may as well hear what he has to say." I understood the irony, that I was allowing all of my secrets to be revealed to Worthy while he kept his from me, but I didn't care. He could keep his secrets. I didn't want to hide who I was.

Despite the tension from the two men with me, my whole body relaxed when we walked through the front door and into the living room. Home. I was home. As long and as hard as I'd tried to leave that place, it still felt like love, comfort, and security to me. We followed Leon through the living room, with its antique furniture that seemed too small for any of us who lived there, and into the heart of the house, the kitchen. We all liked to eat, so we'd spent a lot of time there, chatting at the wood slab table, or arm-wrestling, or cleaning guns and hunting knives, or checking rock-climbing gear, or packing lunch for a hike. There were a lot of good memories in that room. I almost asked Leon if we could talk on the porch, so as not to mar the room with a bad memory, but then I smelled the bacon.

Leon walked to the stove, added several more slices of bacon to the pan, and then got more eggs from the fridge and more potatoes from the freezer. "Eggs, bacon, and potatoes good for you both?"

"Yes," Worthy said, and I nodded. Leon nodded back. He wasn't the best cook in the world, he wasn't even a very good cook, but he could put together a delicious breakfast. Worthy watched Leon work, his knee shaking the table, his jaw tense. I had relaxed when we came into the house, but Worthy seemed to have gotten more nervous. I scooted my chair closer and put a hand on his knee. He looked at me, eyes wide and a bit panicked and pushed my hand off. I bit back a laugh and took his hand instead. He accepted that with a grateful smile. It was kind of cute how nervous he seemed to be for me.

Leon brought the food to the table, and we ate breakfast and talked about school and pretended everything was normal.

Worthy relaxed over breakfast and he and Leon got into a friendly conversation about the mountains and the sports and hunting available there. If I'd been there to introduce my boyfriend to my uncle, things would be going great. But that wasn't why we were there.

Without warning, Leon sharpened his gaze on Worthy. "Are you two dating?"

"Yes, sir," Worthy said, at the same time I said, "No."

Leon chuckled. "I think a sign of a healthy relationship is an inability to agree on some things, but not being able to agree on whether or not you're a couple is taking it a bit far."

"Uncle—"

He waved me off. "I know, I know. You want to know what happened. I don't think it will do you any good to know the truth." He turned his attention to Worthy. "You're hearing this, so I want you to promise me you'll stand beside her and help her even when she's being more ornery than a badger and acting like she doesn't want or need your help."

"I'm not so good about leaving her alone, even when it's sensible," Worthy said.

Leon studied Worthy for a long moment and nodded. "Remington, sugar, I kept all of this from you, because I thought you'd be better off not knowing. No little girl should have seen what you saw. I just wanted to make it go away for you."

Leon looked so sad, and I hated that I'd caused him pain. He had never been anything less than a loving father to me. "I'm not a little girl anymore and I need to know. I found out that my father, he's...he's alive. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I heard from Betty, your aunt, that he's in prison, baby girl. I let you go to college, because I knew he couldn't find you. I guess, in a way, he found you anyway."

"Didn't you think he would, someday?"

Leon shook his head. "I'd hoped...but you aren't here for what I hoped. You're here for the truth. You were called Rachel when I met you. I'd been dating Betty for six weeks and you were seven. She was babysitting you, so I invited her over to the house so you could play with my boys. They thought you were the cutest little thing they'd ever seen and treated you like a princess, when they took any notice of you at all. Byron was your age and he played tea party with you just because you asked. He loved you from the very first moment, just like he knew he'd be your brother someday."

Leon cleared his throat and wiped his eyes. "I suppose it was my fault that Arle and Eunice, your daddy, got acquainted. Betty and I thought it would be fun to have everyone over to my place for a cookout and we could let all of you kids play. Eunice wasn't even supposed to be there, but he showed up near the end of the meal and he and Arle just clicked immediately."

"Arle?" I asked.

Leon smiled. "I'd imagine he's had a big role in your nightmares. He's the man who tried to kill you, sugar. He was my best friend in the world, but he..." Leon glanced at Worthy. "He refused to believe life should be hard for him. He and his wife, Allison, they had one of those fairytale romances. She walked into the factory where he worked and he was gone. He pursued her and convinced her to fall in love with him and she fell hard. She adored Arle, believed he hung the moon.

"He'd worked his way up to manager at the factory and he made a good income, enough for his wife to stay home with their kids, but he thought he could do better somewhere else. He started investing in stocks. He had terrible luck and he lost so much money that Allison had to go back to work. She never complained, or questioned Arle's decisions, and I think that was probably part of the problem. Someone needed to get Arle to pull his head out of his ass, but he wouldn't listen to me. And me, well, I was dealing with my own problems."

Leon's expression hardened. "I never knew your daddy very well, sugar. Betty told me he worked with some real scary people, but she believed him when he said he worked as a bouncer at a nightclub. She knew he liked to have a good time and to gamble a bit, but she had no idea what he was tangled up in until I introduced him to Arle. I actually learned more about your daddy from your nightmares after you came here."

I nodded, my throat tight. "I know he was doing something illegal, and he was pissing people off. He took me with him sometimes and left me in the car, but I...I saw them beat him up one time. They hurt him bad." I felt small and scared, like the little girl I'd been. I wanted so badly for Leon to say it had never happened, but he just nodded and put a hand to his chest, like he was pushing down on his own pain.

"Betty, she just thought you were a quiet, sad kid, because you didn't have a mother and your daddy kept you home more'n he should. She never knew what was really going on. After he and Arle started working together, we found out that he'd take you out on jobs with him. Cops were less likely to suspect a man with a kid, and even the assholes he worked for and the suckers he conned hesitated about hurting him in front of his kid."

Bile rose in my throat, and my nightmares all started to make more sense as they fell into place with what Leon was telling me.

"Arle and Eunice worked together?" Worthy asked.

Leon sighed. "I'm getting ahead of myself. Yes, Arle and Eunice met at that cookout I mentioned. Eunice told Arle he had a way for Arle to make some fast money, to make a better life for his family in a bigger house and a better neighborhood. If Arle had ever been to that piece-of-shit house you and your daddy lived in, Remington, he might never have listened, but Eunice wore expensive clothes and he could sell ice to a freezer penguin. Arle started dealing drugs for Eunice that night. He quit his job at the factory and he started staying out late, not coming home some nights. Allison believed him when he said he'd taken on a night shift. She loved him and she trusted him and, if he were here now, I'd kick his ass for hurting her."

Leon shook his head, his shoulders bending as though under a weight. "I didn't see it either. Not until Arle started using. That's when everything went to hell. Arle was a different person when he was high. He'd get angry and violent. He and Allison fought all the time, and he started stealing what money she was making, so that they lost the house. Allison took their three kids and she moved in with her mother. That was the last straw for Arle, something just broke in him."

Leon took my hand and squeezed. "Your father, Remington, everything was about having a good time to him. He didn't take much seriously and, on top of the drug-dealing, he was a thief and a con artist. It was a kind of a game for him, to see how much he could get away with. He stole Arle's collection of baseball cards and he stole my Remington rifle, just because he could."

"My name," I said.

Leon smiled. "It seemed fitting." His smile faded quickly. "The night Arle realized Eunice had stolen from us, was the same night Allison took their sons and left him. He called me to go out to a late dinner with him and I agreed. I thought I could talk some sense into him. There was no talking to him, though. He kept going on about getting revenge on Eunice. I rode around with him for a while, but I wasn't having any part of hurting Eunice. So, I dropped him off at the flea bag motel where he was staying, and I drove to Betty's to spend some time with her."

"But she wasn't there," I said.

Leon's eyes widened a bit. "You really did remember."

I nodded.

"I'm so sorry, honey," he said, his voice cracking.

I shrugged, nothing to do about it now. I couldn't look at Worthy. "Betty had to work that night, but so did my father, so I was home alone," I said. "Arle broke into the house, he grabbed me and pushed me to the ground. He shoved a gun under my chin, and he told me he was going to kill me to hurt my daddy the way my daddy had hurt him."

"No," Worthy said, his voice low.

I looked at him, my throat and chest tight and hard. He was pale and there were tears in his eyes. "I killed him," I said. "I grabbed a hunting knife from the floor, and I killed him."

"No," Leon said, his voice a wet rumble. "No, baby girl. I killed him. When I dropped Arle off at the hotel, he was drunk and stoned and I figured he'd just sleep it off. When I didn't find Betty at her house, I figured she was with you. Normally, I would have gone on home, but all of Arle's talk about revenge had gotten to me. I just had a bad feeling.

"I got over to your place as fast as I could and I saw my best friend on top of you with a...a gun to your head, and I saw you stick him with that knife. But you were only eight, baby girl, that knife didn't go in more'n an inch, and Arle, he was about to pull that trigger. Sticking that knife in probably only gave him further justification for his drug-addled revenge. He was going to pull that trigger, Remington, but I hadn't come without a gun. I shot him, baby girl. I killed him."

Leon swiped at his eyes. "I killed my best friend. When his body went limp on top of yours, Remington, you didn't scream or cry. You just stared straight ahead and didn't speak. I took you out of there. I took you to Betty at the hospital where she worked. She saw you and she asked me to get you the hell away from your daddy, to take you somewhere he'd never find you. So, I did, sugar. I brought you here, to the old family place, and I kept you hidden and safe. Maybe I was wrong, but I wanted you to have a normal childhood. I wanted you to forget all the bad you'd seen."

I nodded, trying to take it all in, and not quite sure, yet, what I felt about all of it. I was relieved that I hadn't been the one to kill Arle, but Leon's pain at the memory of killing his best friend felt as real as my own. "I'm sorry, Uncle Leon. I'm sorry you had to kill your best friend."

Tears glistened in his eyes. "Me, too, Remington, but I was never sorry that I got to raise you as one of my own." He cleared his throat. "Why don't you two go for a walk? Remington can show you the most beautiful sights you're likely ever to see, Worthy."

Worthy looked shaken and pale, but he stood and forced a smile. I wondered what he thought of me now that the whole truth was out. "That sounds great."

Uncle Leon stood and stepped around the table. He patted Worthy on the back. "Son, why don't you wait for Remington on the porch? I need to speak with her for a moment."

Worthy left the kitchen without a word and we listened to his footsteps as he moved back through the house and out onto the porch. "Thank you," I said. "I don't remember everything, but I remember enough to be grateful to you for taking me out of a horrible situation and giving me a happy life here. Thank you for giving up your own life for me." Tears choked me as I spoke those words, and I met Leon's eyes to see tears glistening there, too.

"I didn't give up anything, baby girl. You and the boys, you are my life. I never once regretted the choice I made."

I cleared my throat. "But Byron said you were planning to marry Betty. You—"

Leon waved away my words. "She's coming to see me next week, you know."

"But you...Wait, what?" Hard to believe, but those words shocked me more than anything else he'd said. "You've kept in touch with her?"

He smiled, and nodded. "She wanted to know how you were doing. In the beginning, you...well, you didn't say a word for the first two months we were here. You had those nightmares that woke you screaming, but you didn't say a word. Betty was a nurse and she gave me all kinds of advice on how to help you, but none of it worked. It was Byron, who got you to talk, finally."

"Byron?"

"He claims he was just looking for someone else for his brothers to pick on and give him a break, but he worried over you something terrible. He got you to talk, finally, by saying that Jean Grey would lose in a fight against Cyclops. You got so angry, you finally spoke. Called him an idiot."

"He is an idiot," I said, my heart warming at the thought of my big, tough cousin baiting me to talk. "I'd forgotten how into comic books and superheroes I used to be."

"Yeah, I wanted to take them from you, because they were so violent. I worried they'd remind you of life with your daddy and everything that happened. Byron insisted I let you keep them and that I buy you more."

"I'll have to thank him for that. I loved those comics."

He laughed. "Don't thank him unless you want him meddling in your life more than he already does."

I gasped. "I thought he was meddling because you told him to."

"I told him to keep an eye on you, not to threaten your dates. I worried about you being out there after so many years of keeping you in here, but I know you need to live your life."

I nodded, feeling overwhelmed with gratitude. "You let me leave because you knew my father was in jail."

"That's right. Betty let me know he'd been arrested. He did try to find you, but he was...I think on some level he knew you were better off without him. Still, I didn't want to make it too easy for him. Once I knew he was in jail, I figured you'd be safe to live your life without him trying to drag you back into his."

"I wouldn't have let that happen. I've been an adult for almost three years."

He gave me a sad smile. "I probably should have let you go sooner, but I worried. I've kept you so sheltered here."

I couldn't stand it anymore, I wrapped my arms around Leon and hugged him tight. He squeezed me back so hard, I could hardly breathe. "Thank you," I said. "You did everything right."

He hugged me for a moment longer before he set me on my feet and looked into my eyes. "You don't need to thank me, baby girl. I'm grateful to you for being a part of my life. I wouldn't trade it for anything." He wiped a tear from my cheek. "Why don't you tell me about that friend of yours who's waiting outside?"

"I'm not sure what he must think of me. I'm not sure what I think of myself, or who I am anymore."

Leon pressed a kiss to my forehead. "You are Remington. You're a girl who grew up in the mountains of West Virginia surrounded by a man and four boys. You're smart and capable and level-headed, and you're free to experience everything, there's nothing holding you back now. Don't let fear become your new prison."

"I'm not afraid of anything," I said, sticking my chin out and narrowing my eyes at Uncle Leon.

He patted my shoulder. "Everyone's afraid of something sometime, Remington. It's no weakness to admit to that. Sometimes, girl, you're too stubborn for your own good."

"I'm not stubborn, I'm right."

Uncle Leon chuckled. "And what about that boy you brought, is he or ain't he your boyfriend?"

I deflated. "He's keeping secrets from me. He disappeared for eight days without a call or a text and he won't tell me why. I can't trust him."

Leon ground his back teeth. "You say you can't trust him, yet you're here with him. You've only known the boy a couple of months. Give him time, and I bet he'll open up to you."

"So, what do I do right now?"

Leon groaned. "This is the real reason I homeschooled you, baby girl. So, I'd never have to give you dating advice."

I batted my eyelashes and he relented.

"Do you still want to be with him?"

I thought about what my uncle was asking, and I let myself feel the truth. I liked Worthy and I wasn't accustomed to giving up easily. "Yeah, I do still want to be with him."

Leon scratched his chin. "Well, I know this will be hard for you, but just for right now don't do anything. Pretend he never disappeared and give him a chance to earn your trust and for you to earn his. He'll open up to you when he's ready. And if he's never ready, sugar, let him go. Move on. Don't waste your life chasing someone who doesn't want to be caught."

"Okay, Uncle Leon." I didn't know much about Leon's first wife, my cousins' mother, but I knew she'd been unhappy with her life and had left them all when Byron was just a baby. Uncle Leon told me once that she loved poetry so much, real life just could never measure up. "I'll let you know how it goes."

"If it goes bad," Leon said, as I started out of the kitchen. "I can always drive you back to school." He cleared his throat. "And, Remington, send that boy on back. I'd like a quick word with him."

"What? Why?"

Uncle Leon rolled his eyes. "Why do you always need to know the answer to every darn thing, baby girl? Maybe I just want to find out what his intentions are."

"Fine."

Worthy was sitting on the top porch step. He didn't move when the door closed behind me, he just stared out at the forest like it was all he could see. I hauled myself up onto the porch railing and stared out at the forest. I watched the birds flitting from branch to branch and the squirrels scurrying up and down the trees as though they were part of some game only they knew the rules for.

"Still want to spend time with me and my uncle after you've heard about our criminal pasts? Or do you want to head back? Uncle Leon said he'd drive me back later, if you want to go now."

"I'm not in any hurry to leave."

"Good, because Uncle Leon wants to talk to you."

Worthy finally looked at me, his eyes wide, but he swallowed and recovered quickly. He got to his feet and went back into the house without a word. He returned less than ten minutes later, looking a bit shell-shocked and not meeting my eyes.

"Everything okay?"

"How about you show me that secret place of yours?" he said, still not looking at me.

I had several, but I was pretty sure I knew which one he'd like the best. I stood and headed around to the back of the house, and he followed without a word. Leon worked too long and hard to go on many hikes, so the path I'd kept cleared when I'd lived at home was a bit clogged in places by fallen twigs and branches. I'd have to ask Leon, but it looked like we'd had a pretty bad storm.

It felt better than I could put into words to be back there, my feet on that trail, moving toward one of my favorite places. I set a fast, hard pace, especially as we climbed up, the trail getting steeper. I hadn't bothered with carving switchbacks through the forest. This trail was for when I wanted a hard workout, for when I didn't want to think. Worthy didn't complain, but I did hear his breathing get heavier as he kept pace right behind me. I didn't know about him, but a good heart-pounding, sweat-inducing hike was just what I needed to push away the darkness Leon had conjured.

When we reached our destination, Worthy whistled. Before us was a flat wall of rock, rising from the forest floor to the height of a two-story building and the width of half a football field. "Your own climbing wall," he said. "Pretty nice."

I nodded, suddenly nervous. "I always climb this free-hand," I said. "Or I have since I was fifteen. I'm used to it, though. I can run back to the house for mats and ropes if you want."

Worthy grinned and shook his head. "No, I'm good. This is perfect."

So, we climbed. Then we hiked back down to the bottom of the rock face and we climbed again. A few times, I pointed out routes or holds to Worthy, but for the most part, we climbed in silence. We climbed the wall until I lost count and my arms and legs were shaking. My stomach growling was really the clincher, though. "I'm done," I said. "Let's head back for lunch."

Worthy had just met me at the bottom of the rock wall, and he looked a bit possessed, like he was in a zone where he just wanted to keep climbing. It took him a minute to focus on me, but when he finally did, he nodded. "Yeah, okay."

As we walked down the trail, Worthy's step seemed lighter. He reached over and took my hand. "Thank you for bringing me here," he said. "It's like you knew exactly what I needed."

I squeezed his fingers and enjoyed the beautiful day and the warmth of the beautiful man next to me, who was still next to me, even though my name wasn't my own and my father was a criminal. I pushed those thoughts away, because I still wasn't sure how I felt about them, and I just wanted to enjoy the moment, enjoy Worthy, without wondering about the past or the future.

I glanced at Worthy, and he must have seen something in my expression, because he stopped and turned to face me. "Are you okay with all of this?" he asked.

"I'm getting there. Are you okay with it?"

He took my other hand and rubbed his thumbs over the pulse points on my wrists. "I want you to know that none of this changes the way I feel about you. I still want to be with you. I still can't think of any place I'd rather be than by your side." He let go of one of my hands to cup my cheek and I leaned into his touch. "If you'll have me."

"I'm willing to try," I said. "I don't need to know why you disappeared, but you have to promise you won't do it again, that you'll send me a quick message to let me know you have family stuff to deal with and will be out of touch for a few days."

He nodded, but he had that faraway look in his eyes, like he wasn't really listening. It was the third time I'd seen that look in his eyes that day, and it was starting to worry me. So, I stood on my tiptoes and pushed my lips against his. He froze for a moment, but then he kissed me back, almost desperately. He wrapped his arms around my shoulders and kissed me like I was the air he needed to survive.

I got lost in that kiss, until my stomach growled again and we broke apart, laughing. Worthy slid a hand under my shirt, his palm cool against the warm skin of my belly. "I guess we should get you fed," he said.

I started back down the trail with him and ignored the feeling that nothing was the same as it had been before.

"So," I asked Leon over lunch. "Will I be able to use this fake birth certificate the rest of my life, or do we have some paperwork issues?" Leon had taken the day off work to spend more time with me and he'd made us macaroni and cheese for lunch.

"It's not fake," Leon said. "Betty had your name legally changed. As long as you're happy with your name, you can keep it."

"I am happy with my name."

"I can't imagine you as a Rachel," Worthy said.

I couldn't imagine myself as a Rachel, either, but I couldn't help wondering who that girl might have become if Uncle Leon hadn't taken her away.

### CHAPTER TEN

Worthy and I rode back to school in a comfortable silence, singing along to the radio when we knew the song. I'd made plans to return to Leon's over my winter break in a week, to meet my aunt Betty and learn more from her about my dad. Eventually, I figured I'd meet him, but I wasn't ready to think too much about that.

Worthy pulled up in front of the dorm and got out of the car. He walked around and opened my door, pulling me into his arms when I got out. "How are you doing?" he asked.

"I'm doing okay. It's good to have answers, you know."

"I'm glad. I've got to work tonight, but I want to take you out tomorrow. Can I take you out tomorrow night?"

"I'd like that."

He gave me a short, sweet kiss and walked me to my door. Then he gave me another kiss and left, walking backwards like he couldn't take his eyes off me. His look warmed me from head to toes and I considered following him to work like a stalker, just so I could spend more time with him.

Frankie was still up, sitting in her bed, reading, when I walked in. I'd called Byron on the way back to campus and filled him in on what I'd learned. He was surprised, but he swore he was still my cousin no matter what. I wanted to curl up in my bed and go to sleep, but I needed to do some reading for my classes.

"Hi, sugar," I said.

Frankie blinked at me in the dim light from the lamp on her nightstand. "Remy," she said. "I didn't expect you back so soon, how'd everything go?"

I didn't feel like rehashing everything. "It went really well. Are you staying up for a while? Do you mind if I do some reading?"

She opened her mouth, like she wanted to ask more questions about my trip home, but she closed it and blushed like she was embarrassed to be nosy. She was so cute sometimes, I just wanted to pinch her cheeks. "Sure," she said. "I was just about to get in the shower, anyway."

I knew if I sat in my bed, I'd be asleep in less than ten minutes, so I set my books out on my desk, while Frankie gathered a towel and her flip-flops. The room was too dark for me, even with my desk lamp, so I got up and turned on the overhead light. I started to read again, but I had a hard time focusing on biology.

When Frankie stepped back in and closed the door behind her, I remembered she'd had another date that evening. I spun and smiled at her. "How was your date with Duran?" I asked. "Did he take you to the observatory?"

Frankie's eyes welled and she shook her head. "He forgot. I called him six times and, when I finally reached him, a girl answered his phone."

I jumped up and pulled her in for a warm hug. Frankie hugged me back and burst into tears.

"Oh," I said. "Oh, sweetie, I'm so sorry." I hated to see Frankie so sad, but I appreciated the distraction from my own drama.

She sniffed and swallowed hard, forcing the tears down. "I'm sorry I'm so emotional, Remy. It's just...it's just been a really tough day. I failed my calculus test and then Duran stood me up for some other girl."

I needed to get reading done and I needed to get some sleep, but Frankie needed me more. I led her over to her bed and snuggled down on it with her. Then, I reached over my head and banged hard on the wall.

"What?" Bell called out sweetly.

"Get your ass over here," I shouted through the wall.

"I'm a little busy," Bell said. I heard a masculine laugh and I gasped. Apparently, Bell had pulled her nose out of a book long enough to meet a guy.

"Frankie needs you, bitch," I yelled. Frankie gasped.

"I'm fine, Bell. Stay where you are," Frankie shouted.

"No, she's not," I said. "And since you're being difficult about it, pick up some ice cream on your way here."

I heard more male laughter, and I was pretty sure Bell wasn't doing what I'd demanded. Then I heard her door close. "Give me ten minutes," Bell shouted.

Frankie's frown deepened. "This is ridiculous, really," she said. "I'm fine. I just...I just feel like I'm making a mess of everything."

Anger boiled under my skin hot and hard. "It's not your fault Duran stood you up for another girl," I said. "And everyone fails a quiz every now and then. This is all normal college stuff."

She nodded, but she didn't look convinced. "What if the problem is me?"

"Oh, sweetie. Duran is dumber than a turkey with two heads if he thinks there's a single thing wrong with you. I'd guess he got greedy and wanted more than one girl. That's not on you."

More tears leaked from her eyes. "I've just never...I've never had a boyfriend before and I'm not always sure what I should do. He wanted to have sex and I wasn't ready. Maybe he found a girl who is ready."

"I'm probably about to sound like a parent here, Frankie, but if he's not willing to wait for you, he's not the right guy."

"Who's not the right guy?" Bell asked, popping into the room with a carton of ice cream and a couple of red box movies.

"That was fast."

Bell shrugged. "I already had all of this stuff over there. What's going on? What's the emergency?"

"Frankie's had a rough day," I said. "She failed a quiz and Duran stood her up tonight for some other girl."

Bell dropped onto Frankie's bed and wrapped her arms around her. "Oh, sweetie. That sounds like a miserable day." She handed Frankie the ice cream and a spoon.

"It's really not a big deal," Frankie said. "I just want to forget about it, I have a ton of work to get done for Monday."

We all had a ton of work to do for Monday, but Frankie needed to be reminded that she had me and Bell at her back and that we loved her. And I needed my friends. "If you don't need the ice cream," I said. "I sure as hell do. You want to talk about bad days, I found out my real name isn't even Remington."

Frankie's mouth popped open, and Bell took the ice cream from her and handed it to me. "You definitely need this more than Frankie does." She handed me a spoon. "Tell us everything."

I told them everything and hoped they wouldn't judge me. The girls gasped and laughed and hugged me in all the right spots. They didn't run screaming from me or seem disgusted. They accepted everything I told them and accepted me.

Bell provided the comic relief by telling us about the guy who'd been in her room, some hottie she'd met in one of her classes. He'd apparently followed her around like a puppy all day, until he convinced her to let him study in her room. Which is where he was when I banged on the wall. She said he was a bit like an actual puppy, kind of dumb, but eager to please. Plus, he was an amazing kisser and really sweet, so she was thinking about keeping him around for a little while.

Both Frankie and I stared at her with wide eyes, shocked at her casual attitude. Clearly, she'd had a bucket-load more experience with guys than either Frankie or I had, but Bell just grinned and winked. I thought Bell's experiences might give Frankie a better idea of how Duran ought to act around her, so I urged her to tell us more about her dating history. Bell didn't need much urging and the girl could tell a story. Both Frankie and I were blushing when she'd finished.

"Y'all wanna watch a movie?" Bell asked.

"I feel like I already did," I said. "The X-rated kind."

Frankie gasped and pinched my side, but Bell just laughed. "I didn't even tell you two the best parts, I save those for my spank bank."

I knew I shouldn't ask, I knew it, but I did anyway. "Your what?"

"You know my fantasy trunk, my clamshell action pack, my beaver dam of pleasure, my mind-gasm library, my—"

"Oh my god," Frankie said, her cheeks fire engine red. "Do you mean what you think about when you masturbate?"

She said the last word in a whisper and Bell shuddered. "Gah!" she said. "I hate that word."

I looked back and forth between them and almost fell off the bed laughing. They both looked at me like I'd lost my mind, and maybe I had, but I couldn't stop.

Eventually, Bell and Frankie just ignored me and started discussing which movie to watch. They picked, I got my laughter under control, and we all settled down to watch.

"I've never done that," Frankie said while the opening scenes of _Trainwreck_ rolled.

"Watched a movie," Bell asked.

"No, I've never...you know...needed a spank bank or whatever," Frankie said, her cheeks red even in the dim light from the T.V.

"You've never flicked the bean?" Bell asked. I slapped her on the shoulder and gave her a look to tell her to behave. I might have been sheltered, and never had a chance to date, but I was fully comfortable with my body and its urges. And I'd heard more masturbation talk from my cousins when they didn't think I was listening, than I'd ever wanted to hear or wanted to hear again. Bell's flippant attitude toward all things sexual didn't bother me, but it was clearly making Frankie uncomfortable.

"It's okay that you haven't," I said. "Sex, even just with yourself is all about being comfortable. If you aren't comfortable than you shouldn't do it."

"Duran says I'm cold and that if I just do it, I'll learn to be comfortable."

I saw red for a minute. Bell calmly paused the movie and looked at Frankie. "He's an idiot, Frankie. You shouldn't do anything with any guy unless you absolutely want to."

"But what if there's something wrong with me?" Frankie said, her fast talk showing.

"There's nothing wrong with you. You're smart not to rush into sex."

Frankie nodded, but I could see we'd lost her. "Forget I said anything, let's just watch the movie."

Bell shot me a look, but I ignored her. We watched the movie, and all of the crying and talking must have taken its toll on Frankie, because she was asleep in less than twenty minutes.

***

Despite my worry about Frankie, I woke on Saturday, feeling lighter and happier. I'd made it through the night without any nightmares. I stretched in my bed, touching my wooden headboard with the tips of my fingers and the footboard with the tips of my toes. Today was going to be a good day, I decided. I sat up and smiled at Frankie, sleeping so peacefully in her own bed, like a sweet angel. Getting into a squat position, I leapt onto her bed and started bouncing.

"Go 'way," Frankie mumbled, swatting at nothing. I stifled a laugh and bounced harder. I might have been born a Rachel and not a Remington, and my father might be a criminal, but I felt more myself than I had in a very long time. It was like finding out the dreams were real and I wasn't going crazy fit some puzzle piece in that I hadn't even known was missing. Everything made sense and, even though some of it was awful, I felt freed by the logic of it all. I'd had a rough childhood, but I'd been lucky to escape that childhood and have a family that loved me. I was Remy and I had the best roommate a girl could ask for, a loving family, a great college and a...well, I wouldn't think about the boyfriend, I was still unsure about that.

"Remy?" Frankie asked looking up at me, groggily. "What are you doing?"

I couldn't help the laugh that burst from me. Even half-asleep, with every right to be pissed, Frankie was polite. I kept bouncing, suddenly curious to find out how much it would take to get a less than polite response from her. "I'm bouncing," I said. "It's what Tiggers do."

Frankie slapped her arm over her eyes and groaned. "Oh, dear. Do you think Tiggers might also go back to bed for another hour or two?"

"Nope." I jumped off the bed and started dragging Frankie out from under the covers. "It's a beautiful day. We're going hiking."

Frankie was too damn polite to fight me. She got out of bed and let me shove her toward the shower. Then I let myself into Bell's room.

Bell was in bed, laying on her stomach, a book in front of her. Her roommate, Alexandria, was sleeping peacefully in the other bed. "Don't even think about trying any of that shit on me," Bell said.

She hadn't looked up from her book, and I thought about bouncing on her just to see how she'd retaliate, but I didn't want to wake up Alexandria. I'd only met her a couple of times, and I didn't know if she was a morning person or not.

"Want to go hiking?" I asked sweetly.

"Do I have a choice?" Bell asked.

"Sure you do, sweetie. You can stay here, and I can harass you all day."

She rolled her eyes, but didn't look up from her book. "You can't harass me if you're on a hike. Besides, I thought we all agreed we were going to get schoolwork done today."

"It'll be a teeny-tiny, short hike. I'll leave you alone the whole rest of the day if you go with us this morning."

"Fine," she said. "Just let me finish this chapter."

I skipped to the shower and squealed like a tween at a Justin Bieber concert when my phone pinged with a text from Worthy wishing me a good morning and telling me that he missed me.

***

"Seriously," Bell said an hour later as we ascended another steep incline. "I thought you said this was going to be a short hike."

Frankie giggled, and I scowled at Bell who had been complaining since we'd left the dorms. It wasn't my fault she lost track of time and had to skip her shower. "We've been hiking for half an hour," I said. "What's your idea of a short hike?"

"Um," Bell said. "I've never actually hiked before."

I stopped in the middle of the trail, Frankie almost running into my back. "What the what?" I said. "How did you not mention that before?"

Bell shrugged, already sweaty and panting. "I thought it was clear when I skipped paintball and said I hated the outdoors."

"So why are you hiking with us now?"

"I was coerced."

"Please. It's not like we—"

"If you're not having fun, Bell, we can walk you back down the trail," Frankie said. "You don't have to hike if you don't want to."

Bell's whole demeanor changed from annoyed to easy-going when she looked at Frankie. "It's fine, Frankie. I'm just giving Remy a hard time."

Frankie looked confused, but I got it. Bell was on this hike for Frankie, and maybe for me, but not for herself. "Let's get going then," I said. I slowed my pace to accommodate Bell's lesser experience, and she stopped complaining. Mostly.

Even Bell seemed impressed by the view at the summit. She sat on a boulder next to me and Frankie, and wrapped her arms around us. "This is beautiful. Not sure it was worth the hike, but it is beautiful."

We enjoyed the view for about fifteen minutes, before we decided to head back. Bell complained all the way down and swore I was taking her a different, longer way to the trail head. I teased her about being lazy and a wimp and enjoyed the shocked gasps from Frankie.

I felt good when we got back to the dorms, my head clearer, my outlook even brighter than it had been when I'd woken up. That good mood evaporated when we saw who was waiting at the door to our room.

Frankie smiled, apparently incapable of turning off her good manners, but she didn't hurry her pace. She stopped in front of Duran and waited.

"Frankie," Duran said, his expression somber, puppy dog eyes in full play. "I'm so sorry I forgot our date last night. We just found out yesterday in English class that we have a surprise essay test next week. My study group called an emergency meeting and our date slipped my mind."

Frankie stood her ground. "Why did a girl answer your phone?"

He shrugged. "I don't know, baby. Two of my study partners are girls, maybe one of them answered while I was in the bathroom or getting snacks or something. I swear to you it was completely innocent. Can you ever forgive me?"

Frankie beamed at Duran and threw her arms around his shoulders. "Of course. I'm so sorry I suspected you were...You know."

"You know I wouldn't do that to you," he said, setting Frankie back on her feet.

I wasn't sure he wouldn't do something like that to Frankie, and even if he wouldn't there was still the matter of him pressuring her for sex and calling her cold for refusing. I think she had more than enough reasons to blow him off, but I kept my mouth shut and watched as the two of them wandered off for a make-up date as Duran called it.

"I really don't like him," I said.

"Me either," Bell said. "But if we trash talk him, Frankie will just get defensive and stick to him more fiercely. We have to let her figure out for herself that he's bad news."

I sighed. "You make sense, but it's so hard to watch her with that douche."

"Come on, girly," Bell said. "Let's order some pizza and have a study party."

"She can't," Worthy said, walking up and pulling me to his side. "She's going out with me."

"Can I shower first?"

"Shower later," he said. "I want to try out this new climbing gym I heard about."

I pulled away enough to look at him and see that he was in nylon basketball shorts and a t-shirt. "And what if I'm tired and don't want to go to a climbing gym?"

He rolled his eyes. "When have you ever not spoken up if you didn't like my plan? If you want to go back to my room, order pizza, and study or watch a movie, just tell me and that's what we'll do. I don't care as long as I'm with you."

Bell made a gagging noise and backed away. "I'm going to go before I vomit all over you two lovebirds."

I waved goodbye to her and spun in Worthy's arms, pressing a lip-smacking kiss to his soft, tasty mouth. He offered no resistance, but pulled me closer and kissed me like he'd been starving for me. "God I've missed you," he said when we finally came up for air.

I pulled myself free of his arms and started for his car. "Hurry up, old man. I want to get to dinner so we can check out this climbing gym before it closes."

Worthy opened my door for me and closed it once I was seated, then he jogged around to his side and got in. He started the engine and glared at me. "I'm only five months older than you, Remy. And I thought you were too tired for the climbing gym."

"Nope. I just didn't like your bossy tone."

"Sorry, I forgot who wears the pants in this relationship."

I somehow managed to keep a stern face. "Don't let it happen again."

He laughed and took me out for the best date I'd had, yet. After we'd climbed until our legs were jelly, and eaten our weight in pasta, he invited me back to his place. I dropped onto his bed as soon as we got to his room. "I'm too tired for a shower," I said. "You don't mind if I get my stink all over your sheets do you?"

He laughed. We'd laughed so much that evening my cheeks hurt. "I'd offer to help you in the shower, but I don't want to risk getting caught by Byron."

"Normally, I'd say I don't care, but I want you in bed with me, not beating up my cousin, as soon as possible."

Worthy pulled some clothes out of a dresser drawer and dropped them on my face. "If you're going to be staying over, you ought to bring some clothes to keep here."

I sat up, shocked. "That's kind of a big step," I said. "That seems serious."

He dropped onto the bed, straddling my waist. "It is serious." He kissed my nose and then my lips. "I'm serious about you, Remy. My new mission in life is to see as much of you as possible, and you're going to want to have clothes here."

"Okay." I grabbed his neck and pulled his face down to mine, but he resisted.

"Shower first," he said. "Or we'll never make it. You can go first."

I groaned, but I climbed off the bed and shuffled to the shower. I took a quick one and smelled like a boy after, because they only had boy soap and boy shampoo in their bathroom. I went back to Worthy's room, wearing his shorts and t-shirt. I flopped on the bed, and he left to take his shower.

I was woken up by him peppering light kisses on my jaw and face. But when I tried to spin and kiss him, he pinned me in place, spooning me from behind. "Just sleep, sweetheart," he said. "I'll kiss you in the morning."

He kept his promise the next morning, waking me before my alarm went off and kissing me in all my favorite places before I had to get back to my dorm room and get ready for work. I left his arms glowing with happiness and something that felt like it might, just maybe, be more than like.

When I got back from work, Frankie was in our room and she was ecstatic about her reunion with Duran. She and I stayed in and studied all day Sunday. Around lunch time, Duran showed up at the door with flowers and a pizza for Frankie. Her face lit up when she saw him, and I couldn't help but hope he wasn't the bad guy I thought he was, for her sake. He convinced her to study with him at the library, and they left. Frankie was all smiles.

Worthy showed up shortly after she left and we studied together, well, we mostly studied together, until he had to leave to go to work. He packed up his bag and stood. "I'm leaving early for winter break," he said. "My brothers are...I just want to spend some extra time with them. I'll see you when I get back."

My brain understood he would only be gone for a week, but my heart and my body were very upset. The paranoid part of me wondered why he'd waited until the last moment to tell me he was going away again. I was not going to pry, I was not going to pry, I was not going... "Was this a last minute decision?"

He smiled, like I amused him, which annoyed me. "Yeah, it was actually. I was planning to wait and leave Wednesday, but I got a text from one of my brothers this morning. I wasn't sure I could swing it, but I just," his grin widened, "just got a text that my boss found someone to cover my shifts at work if I leave early. My youngest brother he...My mom worked a lot when we were all growing up and I've...I think he sees me as kind of a dad, as well as a big brother, you know. He's having a tough year at school—" He must have seen worry on my face because he held up his hands and shook his head. "Just typical teenager stuff, you know, but it's a big deal to him and my mom is at the end of her rope trying to figure out what to do about it."

"You're a good, big brother," I said, my heart melting. "I'll miss you, but have a good time with your family."

"You, too," he said. He hesitated and then pressed a kiss to my forehead. "I'll miss you."

### CHAPTER ELEVEN

Wednesday arrived before I was ready, and Byron and I headed back home together. He was excited to see Betty, and I was excited for him, but I was also nervous. What would my aunt be like? What would she tell me about my father?

"How are your nightmares?" Byron asked, in his typical straightforward way, once we'd gotten on the road.

"I haven't had one since I got the whole story from Uncle Leon," I said. "I've been sleeping great. I'm so well-rested, I'm not quite sure what to do with myself."

"I'm really happy for you, sis," he said. "What's the story with you and Worthy?"

"I don't know, By. He was there to hear all the crazy stuff Uncle Leon revealed about my father and my childhood, and he's still willing to call himself my boyfriend."

He snorted. "Yeah, I get that. But how do you feel? Are you serious about him?"

"I like him, Byron, more than anyone else. I know it sounds crazy, because he's the first boyfriend I've ever had, one of the first guys I've ever dated, but I just...I just feel like I fit with him. He makes me laugh and we like to do the same stuff and he doesn't expect me to dress up or act like a girl."

"Well, if it doesn't work out," he said, eyes on the road. "Bentley's been asking about you."

"No," I said, my reaction visceral. "No, no, no. You are not to get involved in my love life, By."

He chuckled. "I'm not getting involved. I told Bentley I wouldn't get involved. I'm just passing on information."

"Good to know." It was flattering that Bentley was still interested in me, but I had no interest in anyone other than Worthy. "Even so, I think it's time to turn on that audio-book you brought."

His eyes lit up. "Yeah?"

I got the feeling I wasn't going to like this audiobook. "What's the book about, Byron?"

"It's about a thrilling criminal case back in the 1800s that set a precedent for all future criminal cases. You're going to love it." He turned it on, and I settled in to listen.

When we arrived at Leon's house six hours later, I leapt from the car and kissed the ground. "Thank god we made it," I said. "I thought my brains were going to start leaking out of my ears."

Byron rolled his eyes. I couldn't see his eyes, but he was predictable and had been rolling his eyes at me for the last two hours. "Give it a rest, Remington. You probably even learned something."

I stood and glared at him as he grabbed his bag from the back. "Learned something I will never, and I do mean never, use in my life. Seriously, Byron, that was the most boring book I have ever been subjected to. I'm picking the book on the way back and it will be interesting and fun. Ever heard of it, F.U.N., fun?"

"There they are," Leon said. He walked to the truck and took my bag. "I recognized you by the arguing."

I wrapped my arms around Leon and hugged him like it had been three weeks since I'd seen him and not three days.

Leon lifted me off my feet and put me down, before walking around the truck and slapping Byron on the back. "It's clear who the favorite around here is," Byron said, pouting.

"We can't all be as perfect and sweet as me," I said.

Byron made a face and I stuck my tongue out.

"My goodness," a feminine voice said. "They haven't changed a bit."

Byron's face exploded into a wide grin. He vaulted the porch rail and picked a small lady up and gave her a big hug. "Betty," he said. "How are you?"

Betty laughed, clearly delighted by his welcome. "I'm so happy to see you, Byron." She looked over his shoulder as he set her down and then stepped around him. She was a tiny woman, probably no more than five feet with delicate bone structure and a youthful appearance, and she had a merry smile that faded only a bit when she saw me. "Rachel," she said, her voice breathless and tears in her eyes. "Leon's been keeping me updated on how you're doing, but it didn't prepare me...you are so beautiful, sweetheart. You are the image of your mother."

A memory flickered, of this woman, younger and in scrubs, and the scent of baking cookies. "Aunt Betty?"

A tear rolled down her cheek and she walked over and hugged me. Her sparkling blue eyes and the small diamond in her nose brought back more memories. "Do you remember me, honey?"

I nodded. I did remember her. She'd given me a Barbie for Christmas the year before I went to live with Leon. I still had that doll somewhere. She'd been laughter, warmth, and safety. "I didn't get to see you as much as I liked."

Betty shook her head and put a hand to her mouth. "Oh, I wish things could have been different, sweetheart."

"We can reminisce inside," Leon said, giving us a light push. "It's too chilly to stand out on the porch all afternoon."

Byron and I dropped our bags on the living room floor and followed Betty and Leon into the kitchen. We weren't in there five minutes before Tennyson, Keats, and Barrett showed up, roaring in with hugs and rude comments for me and Byron and more hugs for Betty. They all loved her so much, even after so many years, and I felt bad all over again that it was my fault they'd been separated from her. I looked at Leon, but he shook his head and gave me a warm smile like he knew what I was thinking.

Once everyone had settled down, Leon told them why Betty had been away for so long. Keats, who was the oldest, seemed unsurprised, but Tennyson and Barrett were shocked. They hugged me again when they learned the truth about my childhood. After feeding us all a huge spaghetti dinner, Betty shooed out all the men, telling them she wanted to talk to me alone.

Betty led me into the living room and sat down on the dainty couch. She looked perfectly at home on that delicate, rose-covered couch and I realized, for the first time, that Leon had set up that living room for her. All these years when it seemed so out of place in a house full of burly men, it was waiting for her. I put a hand to my chest to try to keep the tears there and sat down in the love seat across from her.

"How have you been, Rachel?" she asked.

"Please. Call me Remy. I don't really remember Rachel."

She smiled, but it seemed forced. "Of course, dear. Have you...Leon's kept me updated over the years on your progress, but have you been happy here?"

"Oh, yes. Very happy. Leon's been like a father to me...I mean, I'm sorry, but I don't remember much about my real father."

"It's okay, Remy. I'm glad Leon is like a father to you. Your own father...well, do you plan to meet him?"

It was a question I'd been avoiding, even in my own head. I wanted to meet him, but I was afraid of what he'd be like. I was afraid he'd be angry at me for staying away or, even worse, glad I'd been gone. "I don't know. Do you think he'd want to see me?"

"Oh, dear." Betty stood and sat next to me. She took my hand and squeezed. "Your daddy loved you, dear. He didn't have the best way of showing it, but he did love you and he was distraught when he thought you'd been killed. Leon wanted me to tell Eunice you'd been killed, and I agreed that was best, but your father was so very upset. I had to tell him that you'd been taken, but were safe. That's why Leon had to keep you home all those years. If I'd let my brother believe you were dead, you could have had a normal life."

"I had a good life," I said. "I might have wished I could go out and meet people, but Leon always made sure I had everything I needed." I took a deep breath. "Did my father look for me?"

She looked down at her hands, and when she looked back up, there were tears in her eyes. "He put the word out about you to everyone he knew, and he did look for you, Remy. Eventually, he understood that wherever you were you were better off than you'd been with him, but he never stopped looking for you. Once a year at Christmas, he took a week off and tried to track you down."

I felt a pang of sympathy for my father and, as much as I hated that he'd been hurt, I was glad he hadn't given up on me. "What's he like?"

She smiled. "Your daddy is a good ten-years older than me. He was an only child until I was born, and our parents adored him. He could do no wrong in their eyes. He's always been gorgeous and had a killer smile, and he was good at everything he did. He was popular in school and played every sport he could. As a little girl, I thought he walked on water and, when he went off to college, we all thought he'd do great things."

She squeezed my hand and dropped it, turning to look out the window. "I don't want to make excuses for my brother, because he's responsible for the choices he made, but our parents hurt him grievously by spoiling him as they did. He got to college and he couldn't handle not being the golden boy anymore. He was smart, but he wasn't used to having to work for anything. He drank too much and partied too hard and he flunked out of school in the first semester. We all expected him to come home and resume his role in the family as the golden boy, but I think he was embarrassed about his failure. He moved into his own place, in downtown Roanoke, and started looking for a way to make quick money. I didn't know that he was doing anything illegal. When I saw him, he always had nice clothes and brought me expensive presents. I thought...we all thought he was doing well for himself.

"I was twenty and in my sophomore year of college when your daddy brought your momma home to meet us. Lara, your momma, was sweet and funny, but she was also smart and level-headed, and your daddy adored her. To me, she was a princess, and we all thought she'd keep Eunice in line, keep him grounded." She wiped her eyes. "Your daddy loved her...Well, he loved her as much as he knew how. You should understand that your daddy is essentially a selfish man, he was never taught to be anything else, but he loved your momma. When she died, not long after you were born, something in him broke. He blamed himself for her death, saw it as another failure, and got in even deeper with the criminals he associated with."

She turned to face me and the pain in her eyes brought tears to my own. "I didn't know that he was involving you in that life, that he was taking you on jobs with him. I didn't find out about any of that until you were about six and he refused to send you to school. He said he could teach you more at home than you'd ever learn in a classroom, and he was worried about sending you out on your own, worried that someone he'd made angry might try to hurt you. I told myself he was just being paranoid. I saw that he was teaching you things. You knew the alphabet and all of your numbers. I saw how sad and scared you were, but I told myself you were just a timid child. I told myself a lot of lies because I didn't want to know the truth. If I admitted how wrong it was, I'd have to take you from him, and I couldn't bear the thought of doing that. He adored you, Remy. He was selfish and a terrible father, but he loved you some kind of fierce. Anything you said you wanted, he got it for you or tried to make it happen. He took you for riding lessons once because you'd seen a horse on T.V. and wanted to know what its fur felt like. I did what I could to keep you with me when he had to work, but I had to work, too, and—"

I took both her hands and squeezed them, as she'd done to mine, not feeling I knew her well enough to offer any more comfort. "You did the best you could and I'm so grateful to you for that," I said. "I will always be grateful to you for sending me away with Leon. You saved me from my daddy when it mattered."

Betty gasped and tears streamed down her cheeks. "I hated hurting my brother, but I..."

"I know. Thank you."

"Can I tell him?" she asked. "Can I tell him I've seen you?"

I hesitated for only a moment. I had to remind myself that I was an adult and he couldn't drag me back into his life again. "Yes," I said. "Yes, I'd like that."

### CHAPTER TWELVE

I walked to biology class Tuesday morning, happy and light-hearted. It was a beautiful, sunshiny day and I was going to see Worthy in a few minutes. I'd gotten back from West Virginia on Sunday, but Worthy hadn't gotten back until Monday afternoon and he'd had to work the night before, so I hadn't seen him, yet.

I found a seat next to Harrison and looked around for Worthy.

"Hi Remy," Harrison said. "How you doing?"

I gave him a smile and hugged him. He froze in my arms and slowly pushed me away. "Let's not push the boundaries of our friendship," he said, an odd pink flushing his cheeks.

"Oh, my, goodness, Harrison," I said, in a mock Southern drawl. "Are you blushing?"

"Shut up," he said. "I wasn't expecting physical contact so early in the morning."

I leaned back and gave him a sly smile, wondering what his problem was, but trying to make light of it. "How was your fall break?"

"I stayed here and worked. It was thrilling. How was yours?"

"Enlightening," I said. "I met my aunt." I hadn't told Harrison all the details of my life, but I'd told him enough that he understood the importance of meeting my aunt.

"Wow. That is thrilling."

"It was," I whispered, just as the professor started speaking and Worthy slid into the seat next to me. He gave me a lopsided smile and didn't look at me again until class ended.

"Can we talk?" he asked.

"Sure." I stood on my tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "I missed you."

He smiled. "I missed you, too, sweetheart." He laced his fingers through mine and we walked into the chilly afternoon sunlight together.

"What did you want to talk about?' I asked.

"I saw..." He turned and face me, placing his hands on my shoulders. "First, tell me about your aunt. What's she like?"

I heard his question, but I couldn't stop watching his lips. I loved his lips. His bottom one was a bit full for a guy, and oh so kissable. I laughed and lunged, wrapping my arms around his neck and crushing my mouth to his. He laughed into my mouth and kissed me back.

I stepped away from him before I got too carried away in a public place. "It's too pretty a day for school," I said. "Please tell me you don't have to work today."

His smile was so brilliant, I swear he glowed. He looked so beautiful and perfect in that bright sunshine. "I don't have to work today."

I jumped up and down in place. "Take me back to that waterfall you showed me on our first hike."

He laughed. "Okay. But you need warmer clothes. It's freezing out here."

"Okay. I'll meet you at the trail head in twenty minutes." I picked up a foot to take off at a run, but stopped and spun to face him instead. "'Wait, what did you want to tell me?"

He grabbed my waist and pulled me flush against him. "I love you, Remington McKinney."

His words took my breath away. The beauty of the day and his smile made the moment so very perfect. He looked happy just to be saying the words to me, like it was a gift, and I felt it all in that moment. I hadn't considered that I loved him, but I knew with absolute certainty that I did.

"I love you, too, Lawrence Hayworth."

He closed his eyes, as though savoring the moment, and then he pressed a quick kiss to my lips and pushed me away. "Go change. I'll be waiting for you."

Twenty minutes later, I found him at the trail head, and I couldn't help the goofy smile that broke out across my face. "Let's go," I said, dodging his attempt to kiss me, feeling silly and playful and so, so happy. "No time for hanky-panky, Mister."

He chuckled and fell into step behind me. As we hiked I told him all about my aunt and what she'd told me about my father.

"Do you think you'll go see him?" he asked.

I didn't want to think about that question on such a beautiful day. I wasn't ignoring the possibility, I just didn't want to think about it at that moment. So, I avoided it and took off. "Race you to the falls," I shouted.

He whooped and chased after me.

After our hike, we ordered pizzas and watched a movie at his place. After the movie, Worthy carried the pizza box down to the kitchen and, when he got back, I was waiting for him, naked, in his bed. He swore and shut the door when he saw me. "Do you know what Byron would do to me if he saw you here like that?"

I scowled. "That was definitely not the reaction I was going for."

He chuckled and jumped onto the bed with me. "What reaction were you going for?" he asked, hovering over me. I suddenly felt nervous, with him clothed and me bare and vulnerable.

"A naked kind of reaction," I said, pretending a confidence I didn't feel.

"I'm not sure that's such a good idea," he said, backing away a bit. "It's safer to leave some clothes on."

"I'm tired of safe."

He studied my face. "Are you telling me you want to make love?"

I scrunched up my face. "Yes, but I wouldn't use those words."

He laughed and my nervousness vanished. This was Worthy. I trusted and loved him, and I had no reason to be worried about anything when he was with me. "What words would you use?"

I shrugged, trying to come up with something, but drawing a complete blank. Why hadn't I read more books about slang terms for sex. "What are my options?"

"Having sex, getting it on, doing the horizontal tango." He shook his head. "Why does it matter what we call it?"

I grabbed the hem of his shirt and tried to pull it up and over his head, but he didn't move enough for me to reach my goal. "Are you sure?" he asked. "This first time won't be fun for you." He grimaced. "Or so I've heard."

"I'm sure. If it's bad, we just won't do it anymore. You'd be okay with that right?"

"Of course." The sincerity in his eyes made the smile slip from my face. I actually believed he was serious.

"Okay, then," I said. "Let's give it a try."

He smiled and then he kissed me, slowly and teasingly, his jean-covered thigh between my legs, but not touching me where I wanted him. "Please," I said.

He obliged me, and slid down to my breasts. The way he touched and kissed me felt worshipful, like he thought I was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, and while he touched me I felt gorgeous. I'd never cared about being beautiful before, not really. I'd cared more about how strong my body was and where it could take me. I'd always figured my mind and my actions mattered more than how I looked. But in that moment, feeling beautiful and loved made me feel like I was floating. And then Worthy groaned, like just touching me and kissing me was driving him crazy, and I felt powerful.

I tried to pull him back up to my mouth and kiss him again, because the anticipation was killing me, but he moved farther down me instead and placed sweet kisses to my core. I rocked against his mouth and heard myself speak his name in a begging tone. He didn't need any more encouragement. He stopped the teasing and got down to business and I was soaring in moments. It felt so good that I kind of forgot where we were headed, until he sat up and slid a condom over his length. He looked at me. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. But I'm about to drop off into an orgasmic coma, so get on with it."

I wasn't really in any hurry, but it was fun to tease him. He mock-scowled and moved over me, his body touching mine from head to toes. And then he was inside me. It hurt, I'm not going to lie, but the look in his eyes, of desire and love and concern, made it hurt a whole lot less. He rocked into me gently and slowly, until I was starting to feel pretty good. I didn't expect to have an orgasm my first time, but his body was rubbing against mine in just the right place and before I even realized what was happening, I was breaking apart and shattering into pleasure again. He came with me and collapsed beside me, his breathing heavy.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm amazing," I said. "Maybe I'll consider doing that again some time."

He laughed and left me long enough to get rid of the condom and clean up. But he was back by my side before I had time to miss him, and he wrapped me up in his warm arms. I snuggled down against him, and noticed again the picture of his family on his dresser. Even though we'd spent so much time together and we'd just done the most intimate thing two people can do, there was still so much I didn't know about him.

"What's your family like?"

He yawned and kissed my neck. "Why do you want to know?"

"I want to know everything about you." I spun in his arms and faced him. "I don't even know what your major is."

"Education," he said around another yawn.

"Shut up." It wasn't that I couldn't see him as a teacher, but it surprised me. Since he was friends with my cousin and I knew he had a heavy course-load, I'd just assumed he planned to be a lawyer or an accountant or something of the sort.

He chuckled. "I'm serious, Remy. I want to be a teacher."

I studied his face, looking for the joke. "Then why are you taking that econ class and a marketing class?"

He smiled and his eyes got a bit of a faraway look. "Because someday I want to run my own summer camp. A real outdoorsy one where kids can learn to survive in the woods and rock climb and hike. It's probably not going to happen for a lot of years, but I figured it wouldn't hurt to take some business classes."

It's completely crazy, but an image popped into my head of the two of us, surrounded by a herd of kids, running a camp together. I'd known since I was thirteen that I wanted to be a park ranger, because it allowed me the most time to be outside, in the woods. I'd never considered camp director as a possible profession. "That sounds amazing," I said. "What made you want to do that?"

He sighed. "My dad died when I was eight and I...I didn't handle it well. My mom was suddenly a single parent and she was working all the time to keep us fed and clothed. My grandmother took care of us when we weren't at school, and I made life very difficult for her. I ran away more than once, and I stayed out late with the neighborhood kids getting into as much trouble as an eight-year-old can. When I was brought home by the cops at nine, my grandmother convinced my mother to send me to summer camp. An eight-week summer camp. I know it wasn't cheap, but my grandmother chipped in as much as she could, and my mom took on extra hours at work and they got me there. That camp changed my life."

"What was it like?"

"It was a true outdoorsy camp," he said. "In the middle of nowhere, with run-down cabins and campfires every night. The counselors kept us busy and they taught us so much. I learned to rock climb and ride horses and I learned how much I loved hiking and being outside. I also learned about respect and I learned to take on responsibility. I went back to that camp every summer until my grandmother died when I was fourteen. My mom needed me at home after that to help her take care of my brothers."

"That sounds amazing. So why teaching? Is it just a means to an end?"

"No," he said. "You'd think I'd be sick of kids after taking care of my brothers for so many years, but I'm not. I want to be that person who can be there for a kid, see that they have more to offer, and help them figure out how to achieve their goals."

"You'll be an amazing teacher." For the first time, I questioned my own path. I wanted to be a park ranger so I could be close to nature, but there was so much more of the world I hadn't seen or tried out and I wondered if there might be another career I'd enjoy just as much.

"And you'll be an amazing park ranger." He snuggled me close and we fell asleep together.

### CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Leon's house was full of boxes and the smell of turkey and pies baking. I should have been happy to be home, but I felt out of it, a bit lost in a fog. I missed Worthy. Over the past month and a half, I'd seen him every day and shared his bed almost as often. I'd gotten pretty attached to the guy and even being able to talk to him on the phone or text him every day during the Thanksgiving break wasn't enough. I never thought I'd pine for a man, but I just couldn't stop thinking about him.

And my distracted thoughts had already gotten me in trouble more than once. I'd been ambushed by Keats and Tennyson the first time I'd gone for a walk in the woods. They'd pinned me to the ground and given me a lecture about always being aware of my surroundings, especially on a college campus. It was a rookie mistake to be taken down by those two idiots. They stomped through the forest like elephants, and I should have heard them.

I walked back to the house, rubbing my shoulder and nursing my pride. Byron was on the front porch, strumming away at his guitar. He laughed when he saw me. "I knew they'd get you."

"Shut up." I started to go past him, but he stopped me with a hand on my shoulder.

"What's going on with you? You not feeling well?"

"No. It's...I just..." How could I tell Byron I was missing Worthy and not get teased about it for the rest of the long weekend? I couldn't. "I'm missing my friends, I guess."

"You worried about Frankie?"

"No, I...Wait? What about Frankie? Did you hear something?"

He frowned. "No, I saw it. Saw that asshole boyfriend of hers at a party and he was making out with a girl who was definitely not Frankie."

"Shit. I really hate that guy."

He grunted in agreement. "Harrison told the guy off, even took a swing at him. Frankie got mad at _Harrison_. She was at the same party and her guy was kissing another girl, and she got mad at Harrison." He shook his head, his expression dark. "That's a whole other class of crazy."

"Poor Harrison."

"Yeah, he's had it bad for that girl for a while, but I think her getting mad at him for defending her ended his infatuation."

I sat down on the top porch step. "Can't say as I blame him. What should I do about her?"

"Nothing you can do," he said. "Except be there for her in case she needs you."

I rested my head against the railing. "How'd you get so wise?"

"Born that way." He started strumming again, but I knew he'd stop if I made an attempt to talk. I didn't want to talk about Worthy, and I couldn't think of anything else to talk about.

"You've been spending a lot of time with Worthy," he said, as though he could hear my thoughts. "Don't think I haven't noticed you creeping out of his room every other morning."

I reared back. "Byron Manfred McKinney, I do not creep."

"Yeah, you do. You totally creep around like everyone in the frat house doesn't already know what the two of you have been getting up to with all the noise you make." He screwed up his face in disgust. "Seriously, Remington, have a little consideration for your brother who's just down the hall."

I was almost certain he was messing with me, because neither Worthy nor I was loud, but I was uncertain enough that I could feel my cheeks heating with a blush. "It can't be any worse than me bumping into one of your conquests in the hall," I said, although it had only happened once. "Just pick a girl, Byron, and make an honest woman of her. Your slutty behavior is embarrassing."

He grinned, not bothered at all, damn it. "I'm too young to settle down. Unlike you and Worthy. I expect to be getting a wedding invitation in the mail any day now."

That one struck a little too close to the target, because I had wondered from time to time if I'd gotten too serious too fast with the first guy I'd ever really liked. Not that it was really an issue, since I hadn't seen another guy I was remotely interested in. "I doubt you'll be invited to the wedding."

He paled a bit. "Remington, I was just joking around. You two aren't really talking about getting married are you? I mean Worthy's a good guy, but you have to finish college, Sis."

I gave him my best version of an enigmatic smile and walked inside, letting the door slam behind me. Byron could just wonder and worry for a little while. It was good for him not to have all the answers all the time.

I found Betty inside, kneading bread to go with the beef stew we'd be having for dinner that night. I sat down at the table and watched her work. "Did you tell my father about me?"

She didn't stop kneading, just gave me a look over her shoulder. "Of course I did, honey. I try to get out to see him about once a month. Why do you ask?"

"I've been thinking about going to see him, but I'm..." I just couldn't admit weakness, not even to Betty. "I just haven't found the time and I wondered if he'd been expecting me."

She paused and looked over at me. She returned her attention to her dough. "He knows you might be by, but he understands you have a world of reasons not to want to see him. He won't be angry or hurt if you don't visit." She smiled. "He's a charming man when he wants to be, Remy, and he has no anger for you. He'll be kind to you, if you do decide to see him."

"Oh," I said, uncomfortable that she'd seen through my pretense. "I figured."

I watched her work. Her sleeves were rolled up to her elbows, and her forearm muscles flexed and flowed as she worked. I didn't see any cookbook in front of her and it looked like good, hard work. Good, mindless work. "Think you could show me how to do that?"

She stopped and gave me a dazzling smile. "Come on over. I'll show you whatever you want."

***

"I brought some photo albums," Betty said. She put the dough we'd kneaded into a bowl so it could rise. "If you're ready, I thought you might like to see pictures of you and your daddy when times were better."

"I'd love that," I said. "I could use some good memories to replace the bad."

She bustled off to the back of the house and returned moments later with a thick photo album. She set it on my lap, and I stroked the shiny cover. It was leather, tooled with small flowers. My heart raced and a part of me wanted to hand the book back to her and run out of that room. It seemed safer somehow not to remember ever loving my father or having good times with him. It seemed safer to fear and hate him for what he'd done. I sucked in a deep breath to stop the dizzy feeling from taking over.

I wanted to know the truth, all of the truth, and part of that was remembering the good in my father. I wasn't a little girl, I reminded myself, and he couldn't hurt me anymore. I opened the album and saw a picture of my mother at the beach, wearing a polka-dotted one-piece, her belly huge with me inside. She looked so happy, so free, and she held her belly and smiled down at it fondly. Like she couldn't wait to meet me, I thought, even as I admitted that I'd never really know how she felt.

"I'd never seen her happier than she was when she found out she was going to have a baby," Betty said. "She was so excited to meet you."

My throat tightened and tears pricked my eyes. My mother had loved me and wanted me. I'd never doubted that, never been given reason to doubt it, but seeing it and hearing it from Betty made it all so much more real, somehow. I continued to flip through the book, through pictures of me as a baby and a toddler. My father had thrown huge, lavish parties for each of my birthdays and there were lots of pictures for each of them. In all of the pictures, my father was smiling, and he looked so young and vibrant.

A picture of the two of us when I was older, Betty said I was six, triggered a memory. Daddy had taken me to the carnival, and he'd let me have everything I'd wanted. Games, rides, prizes, every kind of carnival food, he'd given it all to me with a smile and he'd held me and spun me around. I remembered spinning and spinning, and then being so sick, throwing up again and again while Daddy held my hair and rubbed my back. "It's okay," he'd said. "It's okay." But even at six, I'd known it wasn't okay. It was a happy memory, the first I had of him, but also a bad memory, and I suspected that ambivalence probably symbolized our relationship pretty well.

As we looked at more pictures, more memories came back to me, some good, but most a mix of good and bad like the carnival memory. I didn't tell Betty the bad. She'd already apologized to me more than I thought was healthy. I wouldn't add more guilt to her load. She probably should have done something, taken me away from my father, but if she'd taken custody I'd never have been really free of my father and I probably wouldn't be the person I was. I was grateful to her, even as I understood that she'd failed me in a basic, vital way.

Toward the end of the book, there was a picture of a woman, with dark, curly hair, holding a baby in front of a small clapboard house. The woman and the house looked so familiar, but I couldn't place them. Where had I seen them before? "Who is that?"

Betty's sharp intake of breath felt like an omen. "That's Arle's wife, sweetie. Arle and your uncle were best friends and I spent a lot of time with Allison as a result. She's a good woman. I still see her from time to time. Her boys do her and Arle a good credit."

"Arle," I said, my heart beating too hard. "The man who tried to kill me."

She nodded, though I hadn't asked a question, and rubbed my back.

I turned the page and there was me, eight-years-old, playing with a little boy with dark curls and amber eyes. "That's Allison's oldest boy, Lawrence," Betty said. "You and he played together more than a few times when you were kids. I think Byron was jealous of how close you two were."

I remembered then, a laughing little boy who I'd built block castles with. Knights defending the castle had been our favorite game. My throat tightened as I remembered where I'd seen that woman and that house before. "Lawrence Stanley?"

"That's right, sweetie. Allison changed back to her maiden name right after Arle died, changed the boys' names, too. They all go by—"

"Hayworth," I said, my chest tightening, my breath sucked from my body.

***

I returned to school with three loaves of bread and a batch of cookies that I'd made myself. Once I'd gotten the hang of it, I'd discovered that I really liked making bread, but I especially loved eating fresh bread. Byron dropped me off with a shoulder pat and a smile. I hadn't told him what I'd learned about Worthy, but I'd been grumpy enough the rest of the break that he'd noticed. He'd asked me a few times what was wrong, but backed off when I told him to butt out. I trudged up to my room, under the weight of my bag, looking forward to seeing Frankie and Bell and getting back into the routine of school. I found Worthy in the common room. He didn't see me at first and I just looked at him. He was sitting on the floor, his back against the couch, and a book on the coffee table. He had his head propped on a hand and his focus on the book was intense, his eyes moving along with the words. His hair was mussed from him running his hands through it repeatedly. My heart swelled with love, but I pushed that feeling down. He'd betrayed my love. I suspected he'd been pretending the whole time.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

He smiled at the sound of my voice, but when he looked up and saw my expression, his smile faltered. "I'm not sure," he said. "I just wanted to see you. I had a shitty Thanksgiving and I thought...I thought seeing you would make it better somehow."

I wanted to sit next to him and hug him and hear all about his terrible holiday, but I couldn't do it. "Did you have a bad holiday, Lawrence Stanley Hayworth? Mine was quite enlightening." And there it was, all my thoughtful planning about how I was going to tell him was gone. I'd just punched him right in the face with my words and I felt no remorse. I felt only anger and hurt.

And he looked like he had been punched in the face. His head swung back, his face paled, and his eyes widened. He stood and grabbed my hand. He tried to pull me to sit on the couch, but I pulled my hand free. "What the hell are you doing?"

He stopped and faced me, his eyes searching my face. "Don't run from me, Remy. Just hear me out before you jump to any conclusions."

"Conclusions? Conclusions? How long have you known, Worthy? How long have you known that my uncle killed your father?"

"I've known as long as you have," he said. "I found out when you did." He tilted his head back and pushed his fingers through those curls I knew were so soft to the touch. "I should have—"

"How long have you known that my father and your father were connected?"

"Remy, please," he said. "If you calm down, I'll tell you everything. You have to listen—"

I clenched my hands and ignored Bell and Frankie who'd come out of their rooms and were watching us. "Answer the fucking question," I said in a voice just above a whisper. I didn't want a scene any more than he did, if only because I didn't want to be interrupted before I got the answers I needed. Going somewhere I could be alone with him was not an option.

He sat and gestured for me to do the same. I smiled at Bell and Frankie and waved them away. Bell left her room and went to the one I shared with Frankie. They left the door open a crack and I knew, if I needed them, they'd be there in an instant. I stalked over and sat on the other end of the couch. "How long, Worthy?"

"My mom never talked about my father or his death," he said, staring straight ahead, not looking at me. "When I was fifteen, my aunt told me my father had been murdered because he was friends with the wrong people. She wouldn't give me any names, but she did tell me about my father's best friend, Leon McKinney."

I clasped a hand to my mouth to keep the barrage of emotions and disgust from over-flowing. This was so much worse than I'd suspected.

He looked at me and his expression went from stoic to lost in an instant. His shoulders drooped and his eyes darkened and hardened, hard chocolate instead of melty amber. "I hate the way you're looking at me right now," he said. "But I deserve it. Everything you're thinking is probably true. I figured Leon would know what happened to my dad or at least give me more names. I followed Byron here and I joined the same frat he did, I became friends with him, because I wanted answers. I needed to find out what really happened to my father."

I wanted to run from his words, because they hurt too much, but I needed to know the truth. "It was all a lie." I hated the way my voice broke, but I couldn't help it.

Pure anguish raked across his features. "No. I mean, yes, it started out that way, but I honestly like Byron. He's one of my best friends. That's real. He didn't know anything about my dad and neither did his brothers. I had to be careful about how I asked, but I believed they didn't know anything. I'd accepted I might never know the answer—"

"Why not just go to my uncle and ask him? Why all the subterfuge?"

"I didn't think he'd be willing to give answers to some strange kid who showed up on his doorstep. Leon disappeared the night my father was killed for a reason."

"You thought if you became friends with Byron, he could introduce you, make the whole thing seem more natural?"

He winced. "Yes, but Byron never invited me home with him, and I couldn't exactly force the issue without making him suspicious."

"And then you met me, and you found the perfect way in."

He growled and ran a hand over his face. "No, Remy, that's not how it happened. I know you don't have a good reason to believe anything I say, but if you'd just listen—"

"Why bother?" I asked. "You've already gotten your answers. You've gotten..." A cold finger dug into my chest and froze my next breath. "Unless you want more. Unless you want to make Uncle Leon pay. Want to make me pay." I looked at him. "Is that why you didn't leave me as soon as you got your answers? You wanted revenge? You wanted to break my heart? To hurt me?"

He sank like I'd placed a heavy weight on him and, if I thought I'd seen despair on his face before, I'd been wrong. This was true despair. "How could you think..." He shook his head. "I don't want to hurt you or make anyone pay, Remy. When I met you, I thought you were really Byron's cousin. I thought you were too young to have any connection to my father, but—"

And it all clicked into place. "But then you realized how old I really was. You realized I was the little girl who'd gone missing the night your father was killed. That's why you disappeared for eight days."

"I didn't know who you were," he said. "I'd never suspected that Rachel might still be alive. We played together, do you remember?" I nodded, my throat tight. "I was so sad when they told me you'd died. I was already grieving my dad and it just felt like...the world seemed dark and sad and lonely."

The backs of my eyes burned, sadness for that lost, sad boy making my chest hurt. I pushed that emotion away and focused on what he was telling me. "I don't get it. If you knew Leon left the night your dad was killed, why wasn't he your number one suspect?"

He shrugged. "In retrospect, it seems ridiculously obvious, but my aunt and my mother only had the best things to say about Leon. They told me he was a good man, that he and my dad had been best friends since they were kids. I figured he was running from whoever had killed his best friend and his girlfriend's niece."

"And in all of your research, you never questioned who Byron's little sister might be?"

"Byron never mentioned you, Remy, until you showed up here on campus. After the way we met, I couldn't question him about you without seeming really suspicious."

"So, you became friends with me to find out who I was."

He slammed a fist on his thigh in frustration or anger, I couldn't tell which. "No. I was attracted to you, drawn to you, from the first moment I saw you, and I knew that could be trouble. The only way you might get me closer to your uncle was if I dated you, and I wasn't going to use you like that. I tried to stay away, but I got to know you without even meaning to and I started to care for you. I told myself you were too young to have any connection to my dad, and I promised myself I'd give up on getting answers from your uncle. I was willing to give up on that for you, Remy. I chose you over solving my dad's murder."

"Until I told you how old I am." I was getting drawn into his story, believing his rationalizations without meaning to. I reminded myself he'd used me and couldn't be trusted.

"I knew you'd gone to live with the McKinneys when you were eight, the same year I was eight, the same year my father was killed. It was too much of a coincidence and...I needed some space to figure things out."

"I thought you'd chosen me over your quest for answers," I said, my tone so nasty I surprised myself.

"I had. Shit. You don't believe anything I'm saying, do you?" He stood and paced the common room a few times before he spoke again. "I stayed away because I wanted to do right by you. When I realized there was a good chance you might be Rachel, our relationship became a hundred times more complicated." He knelt in front of me and tried to take my hands, but I shook him off. "I didn't want to hurt you."

"No, you just left without a word of explanation and then broke up with me for no good reason."

He grimaced. "I went home because my brother had gotten into some trouble, I didn't lie about that. I talked to my aunt while I was there and she admitted she'd always wondered if Rachel was really dead, because the police had never found her body. I didn't want to break up with you, it killed me to hurt you like that, but I told myself it was the best thing I could do for you. Then you asked for my help, and I--"

My heart was pounding so fast it hurt and I wasn't sure if I wanted to scream or cry or beat the shit out of him. Probably all three. "Saw the perfect opportunity to get more answers from me. That's why you took me to Herc's. Not to help me, but to help yourself. You used me to get more information for yourself."

"No, Remy, I—"

"And then you drew me in, made me care about you, made me...So you could hurt me and my uncle. So you could get revenge." I couldn't really blame Worthy, if someone murdered my uncle Leon or one of my cousins, I'd hunt them down like the dogs they were and make sure they paid.

"No. I don't want to hurt you or your uncle. I've never wanted to hurt anyone. Remy, I—"

"Don't say it." My heart cracked, but I straightened my shoulders and lifted my chin. I wouldn't let him see how he'd hurt me. "Don't tell me you love me. If you loved me, you wouldn't have lied to me." I stood and locked my hands behind my back so I wouldn't hit him. "I trusted you, Worthy. I took you to my home. I introduced you to my uncle, and you were lying to us the whole time."

"I've never lied to you," he said. "I kept things from you, but I've never told you an outright lie. And I don't blame you for what happened to my dad. You were a little girl, Remy, and you didn't do anything wrong. My father was angry and he scared you, he was too rough and–"

"He scared me? He tried to kill me, Worthy. He would have killed me if Uncle Leon hadn't killed him."

"I know that's how it felt to you, Remy, but I remember my father. He was a good man. He wouldn't hurt a child. He wouldn't kill a little girl."

"So, you think I made the whole thing up? You think my uncle lied?"

"No. Of course not. I just think you both might have misinterpreted the situation."

I couldn't prove to Worthy that he was wrong. For all I knew, he was right. Maybe I'd fallen and Arle was bent over me . . . with a gun in his hand . . . to bandage a scrape on my knee? Nope I just couldn't imagine a scenario which could have put us in that position. "You think my uncle would kill his best friend without being absolutely certain he knew what was going on?"

"He saw a man with a gun and you in shooting range. He overreacted and shot before he thought it through."

"Do you hear yourself right now?"

"I've read my father's autopsy report," he said. "There were no drugs or alcohol in his system when he was killed. He wouldn't have tried to kill a little girl if he was in his right mind. He was a good man, Remy."

And I got it. Worthy didn't want to believe his father could have tried to murder a child, so he was rewriting the story, twisting the facts to suit his worldview. I could understand the urge, but I couldn't condone it. No one ever benefitted from closing their eyes to the truth. "Worthy, your father could be a good man and still have made a terrible mistake in a moment of despair and desperation."

"No. I talked to my mom over break." He didn't look at me, but kept his eyes firmly on the ground. "I finally got her to open up about my father. She said he wasn't addicted to drugs and he wasn't working for your dad. She said she moved us to my grandmother's because he was spending too much time with your dad and she was worried about a bad influence."

He still wouldn't look at me and the reason why hit me like a shot to the chest. "You think Leon lied about everything? You think he made up the stuff about your father being a drug addict so he would look less guilty?"

He sighed and met my eyes. "I just think it's possible he didn't know all the facts, that he made assumptions that were false."

I heard what he was saying, but I couldn't believe it. "Why would he be so honest about everything else and lie about that? The only lies my uncle ever told me were to make me believe my father was a better man than he was. Arle was his best friend. Don't you think he'd make sure of his facts before he said anything negative about him?"

Worthy flinched and dropped my gaze, and I suspected my words were wasted. He'd already made his decision and facts and logic wouldn't sway him. But seriously? What the hell? "My mom said there's no way my dad was doing that stuff and I believe her. I also believed her when she said my dad would never have tried to hurt a little girl. There's no way things went down the way you and your uncle said they did."

I stood, my mixed feelings coalescing into anger. "I think we're done here."

He stood and reached for me, but I backed away. "Just think about it," he said. "What if you're wrong? I thought you wanted to know the truth."

I took a deep breath and tried to calm down. As angry and hurt as I was, I understood that what he'd learned about his father had been a devastating blow and he was dealing with it in a way that made sense to him, even if it made no sense to me. "I've never lied to you, Worthy, and I'll never lie to myself. If you live your life with anything less than unflinching honesty, especially about the hard stuff, you're just a paper doll living in a fantasy world. And I'm not a fan of pretending."

I turned from Worthy without another word and rushed into the suite bathroom. I knew Bell and Frankie were waiting in my room and I wasn't ready to talk to them. I needed a few moments to think. Worthy's suggestions were more dangerous because they made a twisted sort of sense. People did misinterpret situations and memories could be faulty, but the evidence against his father was too great. My uncle had incriminated himself when he admitted to killing Arle. I couldn't believe he'd tell the truth about that and not admit to a moment's doubt about what Arle had been about to do. More than that, I remembered Arle's threat and the press of the gun against my chin. Dreams could be unreliable, but I wouldn't have stabbed a man who wasn't about to hurt me. There was just too much evidence suggesting that Worthy's mother was the one lying and, if he couldn't see that, nothing I said would change his mind.

I leaned against one of the sinks and looked at myself in the mirror. Worthy didn't come after me, didn't try to follow me into the bathroom. He'd been using me and, now that I knew the truth, I was no more use to him. I sucked back tears, my father's words echoing in my head, _big girls don't cry, sugarplum_. I'd heard those words in my head more than once, but I hadn't realized until recently that they were my father's words to me. I pushed down hurt and anger and loss and pulled out my phone. I needed to warn my uncle.

"Hey, baby girl," Leon said. "You get back okay?"

The sound of his voice and his warm concern almost caused the dam holding back my tears to break, but I took a deep breath and womaned the fuck up. "That boy you met back in October, do you remember him?"

"Sure I do, sugar. I'm not such an old man that I'm losing my memory. Lawrence Hayworth."

"Right. Well, Hayworth is his mother's maiden name. His father's name was Stanley, Arle Stanley."

"I know, sugar. How are you handling that knowledge?"

"Not so good, Uncle Leon. I mean...Wait a second, you already knew?"

"Of course I did, sugar. The boy is the spitting image of his mother and Betty keeps up with his Momma. We knew he was going to the same college and you might see him."

"You knew he was going to my school. Did you know he was friends with Byron?"

"No," he said. "Byron doesn't talk about his friends with me and, even if he did, I didn't know until I met him that he was going by the nickname of Worthy."

I paced the bathroom twice before I was calm enough to speak again. "Are you fucking with me right now?"

"Remington Alice McKinney, you watch your mouth. You are not too old for me to come up there and wash your mouth out with soap."

"And I'm not too young to come up there and kick your ass. Uncle Leon, what the hell were you thinking? Don't you think you should have let me know I was dating the son of the man you killed?"

"Remington, girl, you need to calm down or I am ending this call. Remember to show some respect." Uncle Leon's voice was infuriatingly calm.

I took a deep breath and counted to ten. "He was using me, Uncle Leon, and he probably wants to hurt me and you, for that matter, to get revenge."

"Naw. That boy doesn't want revenge."

"How can you possibly know that?" I asked, my teeth clenched so I didn't go off on him again.

"When he was at the house, I called him back to the kitchen. Remember, you were waiting on the front porch?"

"I remember."

"Right. So, I laid my shotgun on the kitchen table and I stepped away. Told him if he wanted revenge, it was his right. Doesn't matter why I killed his daddy, just matters I did it. I told him to take his revenge on me."

"You did what?" I asked, completely losing any semblance of calm. "What if he'd killed you? What if he'd killed you and then carried the gun out to the front porch and killed me?"

He sighed. "Remington. Honey. You really need to calm down."

I sucked down three deep breaths and counted to twenty. "I'm calm."

"He had no reason to hurt you, Remington. You were just a little girl when I shot his father. And anyone could see the boy is dead-gone in love with you. You were at no risk."

"Are you serious right now? How did you manage to keep me alive as long as you did?"

"Why do you think I kept you at the house and away from people, especially boys?" he asked without missing a beat. "I wasn't really worried, anyway, Remington. I hadn't seen anger on his face when I'd told y'all about his daddy."

"Oh," I said. "Well, that's okay then."

Uncle Leon either didn't pick up on my sarcasm, or chose to ignore it. "Anyway, he didn't shoot me and we had a talk. I asked him not to tell you the truth about who he was until you'd had a chance to accept the truth about yourself. I could see he was broken up about the whole thing, anyway. You both needed time to come to terms with everything."

"You had no right to keep that from me. You should have told me that my boyfriend was a liar and manipulator. Then maybe I wouldn't have made the mistake of falling in love with him."

My uncle was quiet for so long, I wasn't sure he was still there. "Maybe you're right, Remington. But I knew if I told you, you'd walk away from him and never look back. You're stubborn like that. And he seemed good for you. Byron says he looks out for you and makes you happy. I don't think who your daddies are should ruin that."

His words pinched my heart, and I wished I could see everything as simply and surely as he did. I pushed that wish away as the silliness I knew it was. "He doesn't believe his father tried to kill me."

"What?" Uncle Leon asked, sounding worried for the first time. "Where'd he get that idea?"

"His mother told him Arle wasn't a drug addict and would never hurt a little girl. Worthy has his father's autopsy report and it shows no drugs or alcohol in Arle's system. He thinks we both misinterpreted the situation."

"The boy doesn't want to believe his father was a monster, I suppose. Arle was a good father before he got mixed up in drugs. He just had a bad night and he went too far. I'd doubt the validity of that autopsy report, anyway."

"What? Why?"

"Hold on a minute, sugar. You'd better talk to Betty about this one."

A moment later, Betty's cinnamon sugar voice came over the line. "Sweetie," she said. "Leon's filled me in. I'm so sorry. I see Allison from time to time, but she never wants to talk about the past. I can't honestly say if she has convinced herself it never happened or if she's lying to Lawrence, but Arle's death messed her up in some deep way. She became a different person and I've...well, I don't want to gossip, sweetie. What's important is that Arle was working for your daddy and he was using drugs and drinking too much. Allison talked to me about it at the time it was happening, and I saw it myself. I wasn't there the night he tried to kill you, but I heard the voice mail he left for your father, threatening both him and you, and I believe Leon's recounting of events."

I'd expected to be calmed by the evidence supporting my nightmare and Leon's story, but I didn't feel much better. "What about the autopsy? Worthy said it showed no drugs or alcohol in Arle's system."

She sighed. "Your father and a couple of his friends got Arle's body out of his house and dumped it before the police even got wind of the murder. They dumped him in a river and his body washed up a week later. The body was in bad shape, but Allison, she didn't want anyone to know about her husband's drug habit and she bribed a county official to keep that out of the report."

"You can really do that?"

"The county official was a distant relative and it took her entire savings, but she must have managed it."

I almost felt bad for Worthy, but at least his father hadn't tried to kill me when he was sober. Not that Worthy would believe me if I told him that. "Thanks, Aunt Betty."

"Of course, sweetheart. I know you're hurt and angry and I've no right to interfere, but Lawrence was always a sweet child and he's grown into a good man. He takes care of his momma and his brothers. When the two of you played together as kids, his momma and I used to joke that you'd get married someday."

"That's sweet, Aunt Betty, but it doesn't change what he did."

"I know, Remy. I'm about to get off this phone and tell your uncle off for not telling you right away who Lawrence was."

I forced a laugh and hung up. I dragged myself back to my room.

"Remy," Bell said, just as Frankie said, "Are you okay?"

They were sitting on Frankie's bed and I was sure they'd been talking about me and Worthy. I took a seat on my own bed. "I'm fine," I said. "But it's a long story and I'm exhausted. I just want—"

My door slammed inward and Byron stormed into the room.

I sat up straight and jumped off my bed. "What the hell, Byron?"

He grabbed my chin and twisted my face from side to side. "You've been crying. Are you okay?"

I jerked free of his grasp and looked him up and down. His knuckles were cracked and bleeding, but otherwise he looked okay. "Are you high right now?"

He sat on Frankie's bed with a sigh. Frankie's now empty bed, Frankie and Bell must have taken off as soon as Byron walked in. I'd have to thank them later for giving me space. "Worthy told me everything, Remington. He used us both."

"Are you okay?" I asked. "He was your friend."

Byron looked a bit confused. "Of course, I'm okay. And he's still my friend."

"But he used you, Byron. He lied to you by omission."

He shrugged. "Yeah, that was shitty, but I beat the tar out of him for it and we're good now." He shook his head. "I can't say I wouldn't have done the same in his place. If I found someone who might be able to tell me where my mother is, I'd probably use the fuck out of them to find her."

"Really?" I asked. "I didn't know you even thought about her, anymore."

He scowled. "She was my mother, Remington. Of course, I think about her and wonder why the hell me and the others weren't enough for her. But I'm not here to talk about that, how are you?"

"I'm sad. I wish I could just beat him up and go back to the way things were before, but I don't think it's that easy."

"Yeah, I get that. What he did was all kinds of messed up. I want to be pissed at him for not being more open with you, but if it weren't for him, you'd still be having nightmares and thinking you're crazy."

"I never thought I was crazy."

He gave me a disbelieving look. "Sure, you didn't. Anyway, he's a good guy. He's been there for me in the past and he's saved my ass more than once when I was drunk and stupid. Whatever he kept from me, he made up for it. If you think about it, I suspect you'll realize the same."

"How can you say that?" A part of me wished I could believe in Worthy and just let it go, but the sensible, logical part of me understood that was impossible. "How can you believe anything he did wasn't just a way to get you to trust him, to get closer to you?"

He stared at his hands for a long moment, before he looked up and met my gaze. "I don't know. Maybe he's a jerk who used me, and he'll let me down in the future, but I'm willing to take that chance based on our past."

"You have to realize there's more at stake for me."

He shrugged. "I get that loving someone is scary and a risk."

"This isn't about me being scared. It's about me being a rational, logical human being who knows when to walk away."

He smirked. "There are all kinds of ways to use someone and we all keep secrets, but I believe Worthy is a good guy, Remington. You know I wouldn't defend him if I didn't."

"Even if you're right, and that would be a shock of epic proportions, he thinks Leon and I are lying about everything that happened."

"You get why, though, right?"

"Because he doesn't want to believe his father could be the kind of monster who'd hurt a kid," I said. "But that doesn't really change anything. And on top of all that, my uncle killed his father. His father tried to kill me. How do we get past that?"

"Far as I can tell, none of that has anything to do with the two of you right here, right now."

A knock at my door had me leaping to my feet and rushing to the door in gratitude for whoever was distracting me from that conversation with Byron. Even for me there was such a thing as too much hard truth. I wasn't ready to trust or forgive Worthy, and nothing was going to change that. I opened the door to see Bentley's smiling face over a bouquet of flowers.

"Wow," I said. "You don't waste any time, do you?" I couldn't deny I was impressed by his perseverance. "Worthy and I broke up less than an hour ago."

"What the fuck, Bentley?" Byron shouted. "Get the hell out of here. She doesn't need your bullshit right now."

Bentley ignored Byron. "I'm not here to try to take Worthy's place. I thought you might be hurting, and I wanted to drop off these flowers to cheer you up."

"That's so sweet," I said. Bentley looked good, his happy, uncomplicated face oh so tempting. But I knew it would just be an escape from thinking about Worthy and that wouldn't be fair to Bentley.

"It's not sweet," Byron said. "He's trying to get in your pants. It's called a rebound lay. Get the fuck out of here, Bentley." Byron sounded angry but he didn't get up from the bed.

Bentley smiled over my head at Byron. "Careful with the language McKinney, there's a lady present."

"Is there a card with these flowers?" I took them from Bentley and looked them over.

Bentley's grin widened and he handed me a card.

"An invitation to dinner," I read aloud. "How sweet." And it really was sweet and romantic, like something from a book. The problem was, no matter how happy I was to see Bentley, I knew he wasn't the one I wanted. I shook my head to clear it of ridiculous thoughts. "I really like you, Bentley, I'm just not in a place to start dating anyone else right now."

His smile fell just a tick. "Maybe we can still hang out? As friends."

"She said no, Bentley," Byron hollered.

I ignored him. Maybe a friend was exactly what I needed. "Want to stop by tomorrow afternoon to study with me for a while?" I fully expected him to turn me down. "We could watch a movie after."

"Sure," Bentley said. "I'll see you at seven."

He left and I returned to Byron. I picked up his feet and plopped down onto Frankie's bed, dropping them into my lap. "I thought you were team Bentley."

"I'm team Remington," he said. "Always." He got to his feet. "You know where I am if you need me. Want me to send your friends back over?"

"Yeah," I said. "Thanks, Byron."

He nodded and left. A few moments later, Bell and Frankie popped in.

"I've got ice cream," Bell said. She plopped down on the bed next to me and handed me a spoon. "Ready to talk?"

I found I did want to talk, so, I told them the whole sordid tale about me and Worthy. I didn't like sharing his secrets, but I trusted them not to tell anyone.

"Wow," Bell said, leaning against the headboard and shoveling in another bite of ice cream. "I can see it going either way. He was probably afraid that telling you the truth would mean losing you for good. I mean that is definitely a relationship-ending revelation."

"Maybe," I said. "But he had to know he couldn't keep the secret forever. Did he think I'd be more likely to forgive him the longer we'd dated?"

"Maybe he thought you'd be understanding if he told you himself," Frankie said. "Maybe he was just trying to find the best way to tell you."

"Or," Bell went on. "He was using you to learn more about his father and continued to date you while he sought his revenge. Sounds Shakespearian." She popped up and to her feet. "We need a board." Then she left.

"What do you think?" I asked Frankie.

She smiled a little smile. "Do you love him?"

"I don't know. I thought I did, but now..."

"If you love him, then nothing else matters. You should try to make it work."

"I don't think it's that simple, Frankie. If he's a lying manipulator there's not really room for a happily ever after."

"Okay, I've got it." Bell bounced back into the room with a dry erase board and a bag of markers. "Let's get started."

"Um, get started on what?" I asked.

"We're going to list the evidence and determine whether Worthy is guilty or innocent. Like they do on those police dramas on T.V. Frankie's the list-maker, so she gets control of the markers." She handed Frankie the markers and then she took down the mirror over Frankie's dresser and hung the board in its place.

"I really don't think..." I said, but Frankie was already on her feet and creating columns.

After an hour of recording evidence, we were no closer to a conclusion about Worthy's guilt or innocence. I wasn't sure it mattered. Whether he'd acted with malicious intent or not, Worthy had kept major information from me. That made him untrustworthy. It was as simple as that.

I was tired and hungry for some real food. Frankie had snuck out after the first fifteen minutes for a date with Duran, and Bell had been relentlessly rehashing every detail of my relationship with Worthy. I was more confused than I'd been when we started, and I wished Worthy was there. I wanted him to wrap his big arms around me and kiss me on the top of my head and tell me it would all be alright. And I'd believe him, because when I was in his arms, I could believe anything.

I shook my head, realizing where my mind had gone, and tried to remember that I didn't need him. He'd lied to me and manipulated me and I was better off without him. "Pizza," I said, giving in to the needs of my body and my mind. Food for one and distraction for the other.

Bell looked up from the board like she'd forgotten I was there. "Sorry," she said. "Shit, I'm sorry, Remy. I just...I just got caught up in the details of the whole thing and I kind of, well, I..."

"It's okay, Bell. Let's just focus on food for a while."

Bell nodded, her cheeks pink. "I've still got that movie we didn't watch the other night. The zombie one?"

"Perfect. You get the movie and I'll order the pizza."

***

When a knock sounded at my door the next evening, I opened it, expecting to see Bentley's easy, slightly cocky smile. Instead, I was greeted by Worthy's frown. He had a black eye and a split lip, and he was standing stiffly enough that I figured Byron had gotten some good hits to his ribs, but he was standing and alive.

Even frowning and injured, he looked so good that I wanted to wrap my arms around him and take the pain from his eyes and tell him everything would be okay. But it wouldn't be okay. He wasn't the guy I'd thought he was.

"Bentley said he was seeing you this afternoon." Worthy's jaw was tense, and his hands were fisted like he was ready to fight. I was in sweats, did he really think I was about to go out on a date? I may not be the most fashion-conscious person – actually I was in a fashion coma according to Frankie and Selene – but even I knew one didn't wear sweats on a date. I could have told him I wasn't dating Bentley, I could have eased the lines from his brow, but I didn't want to. He'd hurt me and he'd betrayed me, and I wanted to punish him for that. Plus, I knew we couldn't be a couple anymore and Bentley was as good an excuse as any to end things.

"Who I date isn't any of your business."

"No." He tried to take my hands in his, but I shook him off. He winced like I'd physically hurt him, but determination replaced the hurt in a moment. "No. You aren't going to just end us like this. I love you, Remy. You're all I've wanted from the first moment I saw you. I can't stop thinking about you, or wanting to see you, or just plain wanting you. We can get past this."

"Get past what?" I asked, my heart torn between pain at the loss of what we'd had and anger because he seemed to think our problems were surmountable. "You lying to me and using me? Or you calling me a liar and my uncle a murderer? Or the fact that my uncle killed your father and my father ruined your life?"

He pushed his way into the room and sat on my bed, his body slumping like he didn't have the energy to stand. "I'm sorry for the way I explained everything earlier, Remy. I know how it sounded. I don't think any less of you. I think you had nightmares that seemed real to you, but they were just nightmares."

"I recognized your father from those nightmares."

He shrugged. "Because you'd seen him before. You'd met him."

"So, what happened to me, Worthy? Because something sure as hell did. Otherwise, I wouldn't have flipped out that night at paintball."

His shoulders tensed and he looked at the floor. "Your father was a criminal, Remy, and he involved you in that criminal life. I'm sure lots of brutal things happened to you."

And just like that, Worthy had thrown my father under the bus to protect his. The trouble was, I couldn't prove he was wrong. Nothing he said was false. My father was a criminal, and he had taken me with him on jobs. I had seen bloody, horrible things, and my nightmares were hardly proof of anything. If I was standing where Worthy was standing, I'd probably feel the same way. "I don't blame you, Worthy, for wanting to believe your father was a good man. But don't you see that we can't be together, we can't be a couple, as long as you doubt me and my family. Do you really want to sit across from Leon at Thanksgiving dinner when you believe he killed your father without reason?" Because, at the end of the day, if Worthy asked me to pick between him and my family, I'd pick my family, every time. I loved him, but I wasn't going to turn my back on my family for him. "And it doesn't change the fact that you used me and kept things from me, vital information. How can I ever trust you again?"

His face paled as though he'd just thought about family get-togethers and I knew he saw it my way. Then something hardened in his expression. "This isn't over, Remy. You're one of the very best people I know, one of the best things that's ever happened to me. I'm not giving up on us."

I opened my door. "You should leave."

Bentley stood outside, his hand raised, like he was getting ready to knock. "Worthy," he said, glaring.

"Bentley," Worthy said, exhaustion in his voice. He stepped toe to toe with Bentley. "Don't touch her."

"Worthy," I said, working to keep the wobble out of my voice. "Please, go."

He looked back at me, his expression so very sad and lost, and then he nodded and left.

I ushered Bentley into my room and shut the door behind him. "Why didn't you just tell him this isn't a date?" he asked.

"Because he needs to let me go. He needs to move on, and I don't think he will unless he thinks I'm seeing someone else."

Bentley dropped onto my bed. "Seriously? I hate drama. I don't want to have to lie to Worthy." Then he looked up at me, a thought occurring. "Does a pretend boyfriend get to make out with you?"

I couldn't help my laugh at the hopeful look on his face. "Um, no."

He shook his head, his hair falling into his eyes. He really was too good-looking. "Then I'm not doing this, I'm not lying to my friend."

"Then don't lie. Just don't tell him anything unless he asks directly."

Bentley looked skeptical.

"It's for his own good. The two of us being together would be too hard. I'm bad news." I didn't want to tell Bentley the real reason we split, but I figured he might as well get any idea of me being the girl for him out of his head. "He deserves an easy relationship, a girl without any baggage."

Bentley studied me for a long moment. "I thought you and Worthy were close."

"We were."

"You couldn't have been that close if you think he's not willing to work and fight for you, Remy." He looked more than a little disappointed in me. "I've seen him offered easy from a lot of other girls, but he's never shown any interest until you. His family is nothing but difficult, and he fights for them every day. I'm pretty sure Worthy doesn't do easy and he wants you, regardless of what you think."

A hollow, cold feeling settled in my chest as I realized I really didn't know much about Worthy's family or the sacrifices he'd made for them. I knew he helped his mom take care of his brothers, but I didn't really know what that meant or how close he was to them. All the time we'd spent together, he'd asked me about my life. We hadn't talked much about his. Maybe he'd avoided talking about his life on purpose, or maybe I hadn't been a very good girlfriend. Now, I'd never have a chance to get to know him better. "I thought he was some sort of player?" I said. "Isn't easy what he usually goes for?"

Bentley laughed. "Where'd you get that idea? Worthy is a prince among men, Remy. He's dated a few girls, but he's been upfront with them that his priorities are school, work, and his family. He's no player."

Had I misjudged Worthy? Why had I been so content not to see beneath the surface with him? Of course, I'd also missed the fact that he was manipulating me and following his own agenda when he pretended to be helping me. Even as I thought that, I didn't really believe it. I remembered the good times we'd spent together, how tight he'd held me and how he'd looked at me like I was the most important person in the world. I pushed those thoughts away and buried them deep. He'd used me and betrayed me, and I couldn't forgive him. He couldn't be trusted.

***

For the next few weeks, I concentrated on studying and working and being a good friend. I only saw Worthy in biology class and he didn't try to talk to me or sit next to me. Bentley, on the other hand, I saw every other day. He and I studied together, ate meals together, and had fun together. When he asked me out two days before my twenty-first birthday, I couldn't come up with a good reason to turn him down again. We went out to a locally-owned pizza restaurant where we'd eaten before, but this time Bentley paid. We laughed through dinner and laughed all the way back to the dorm, but when he leaned in to kiss me I stopped laughing.

I stopped laughing and remembered I was on a date with this man. I tried to feel something for him, but all I could think about was Worthy and how it felt like my whole body ignited when he touched me and how his kiss made me forget everything but him. Bentley made me laugh, but Worthy had understood me. He'd seen me and been there for me in a way Bentley hadn't. Not that I'd given Bentley much of a chance.

Bentley broke the kiss and pulled away, frowning. "It's still Worthy, isn't it?"

"I'm sorry. I wish it wasn't."

He gave me a weak smile and a kiss on the cheek, and he left. He promised to call me later, like he always did when we hung out, but I doubted I'd be seeing as much of him.

### CHAPTER FOURTEEN

I woke up the next morning to brilliant sunshine through my window. The frost on the glass let me know it was cold out and I shivered in anticipation of the bitter chill. I loved the outdoors in any weather, but winter might just be my favorite season. I was a day away from turning twenty-one, a milestone that felt more like the entrance to adulthood than eighteen had, and I knew I'd been putting it off long enough. I needed to see my father. I called my uncle and got the information about where my father was being held, and the visiting hours. Betty went to visit him every couple of weeks and had told me what to expect. I called the prison and arranged my visit, and then I stopped by the frat house to see if I could borrow Byron's truck. It wasn't Byron I saw when I got to the house, though.

"Remy," Worthy said with hope in his eyes. He was standing at the bottom of the stairs, keys in hand, like he was just heading out or had just gotten home.

"Hi, Worthy," I said, speaking as fast as Frankie to make sure he didn't get the wrong idea. "I'm looking for Byron."

His smiled dropped. "He was out all night and hasn't been home, yet. What's up?"

I smiled like I wasn't disappointed. "Nothing. I was just hoping to borrow his truck."

"Is there somewhere I could take you?"

He looked so sincere and I felt sorry we couldn't go back to the way we were. Sorry that our pasts had messed up our futures. "No. I can take the bus." I turned and started back down the steps.

Worthy grabbed my elbow. I spun and glared at him, pulling my arm out of his grasp. Something in his face went cold. "I hate this," he said. "I miss you so much, Remy. I hate that we can't be together, can't even be friends."

"Do you really want to know the truth?" I asked, before I could think better of it.

"What?"

"Do you really want to know the truth about your father?"

His eyes widened. "Of course I do, but there's no way to ever know..." He must have seen me flinch, because he stopped before he accused my uncle of lying again.

"Come with me to see my father. In prison. He could tell you more about your dad." The truth was, I was relieved at the possibility of not being alone the first time I met my father, and I couldn't think of anyone I wanted by my side more than Worthy, despite everything that had happened.

"You're going to see your dad?"

"I've put it off long enough," I said.

"You shouldn't go alone. I'll stay in the car and wait for you, but I'm driving you there."

"You don't have to do that. I'll be fine on the bus."

He sighed and rolled his eyes. "The martyr routine doesn't suit you. You know you'd rather I drive you, so let's go."

Where the hell did he get off being snippy with me and accusing me of playing games? "I'm not being a martyr. I can seriously take the bus. I'm sure you have better things to do than drive me there and sit in the car. It'll take most of the day."

He grabbed my shoulders and held me in place so I couldn't look away. "I don't have anything else I'd rather be doing or anywhere I'd rather be. I'm taking you, so quit arguing before I get grumpy."

"Really? because you already seem grumpy," I said. "What the hell is your problem?"

He let go of me and took a couple of steps back. "I'm sorry, Remy. You're right. I just haven't been sleeping and my brothers...But none of that is your problem. I'll back off. If you want to take the bus, go ahead."

"I just don't think it's a good idea for us to spend so much time together," I said, less sure now since he had given me an option and had quit being bossy.

"If you take the bus," he said. "I'll be worried about you until I hear you're back from Byron, whenever he shows up. I know how hard this is for you and I'd like to be there. We don't even have to talk."

"Okay," I said, not sure at all that I was making the right choice. I followed him to the car and got into the passenger seat. I wanted to joke about the likelihood of his car surviving the trip to the prison, but that felt friendly and we weren't friends.

I made it about half a mile in silence before Bentley's words sunk in, and I remembered how little I really knew about Worthy. "How are your brothers?" I asked.

He glanced at me and then back at the road, before clearing his throat. "Why do you want to know?"

"For god's sake, Worthy, it's a simple question. Maybe I'm just trying to make conversation."

He glanced at me again, eyebrows raised, and I caved. Like a total wuss. "I've known you for three months. It seems like I should know more about your family."

He stared at the road for a long moment. "I didn't think we were friends anymore."

"Fine," I said, pouting like a three-year-old, because he was right. It was better not to know more about him, to push him away. "'Forget I asked."

"They're having a hard time," he said. "My middle brother, Payton, he's a senior in high school and my youngest brother, Jesse, is getting nervous about him leaving for college. At least that's the only explanation I can come up with for all the trouble he's been getting into lately."

"Maybe he needs to go to that summer camp you went to."

He looked over and smiled. "Yeah, that's what I think. But my mother won't let him go." He sighed. "I was just a kid when my father died, so I didn't realize it then, but his death changed her. She's only become more protective of my brothers as the years have gone by. She's suffocating Jesse and she won't discipline him. She wants to be his friend and wants me to be the parent. I guess she thinks he'll stick around if she's his buddy. It's not working. We had a big blowout over Thanksgiving and Jesse disappeared for two days. Somehow, my mother blamed me for that. She had a bit too much to drink and told me she couldn't be alone, that if Jesse leaves she won't have anyone." The words came out in a rush and a bit of jumble, like he'd needed to get them off his chest for a really long time.

"That's not fair to you or your brothers."

"No," he said. "But she doesn't see it that way. Most of the time, she's this hardworking, stable, capable woman, and she can be an amazing mother when she wants to be. I think she's having a hard time with the idea of Payton leaving home and she's clinging too hard to Jesse without even realizing it. He's always been her baby, and she's spoiled him more than a little bit."

"It sounds like she needs someone to talk to."

He snorted. "I told her that and got an hour-long lecture about how she's not crazy."

"I don't mean a therapist necessarily. I just mean another adult who can help her put things in perspective. Aunt Betty used to be good friends with your mom, right? I'll talk to her about trying to be her friend again."

"That might help. Thanks."

We rode in silence for a few minutes while I considered what Worthy had told me. It sounded like he'd had a lot of stress and worry on his shoulders for a long time. "Why didn't you tell me about all of this before?"

He stared at the road. "I don't know. Maybe I was afraid that once I started talking, I'd tell you everything and then I'd lose you." He shrugged. "The truth is I'm not used to talking about my family with anyone else. It's personal, you know?"

I hadn't known he was so private. "It helps to talk about things," I said. "What's your relationship like with your mother?"

"I owe her everything. That's part of the reason I want to be a teacher before I start trying to figure out the camp thing. I want to be able to give something back to her and help my brothers. She's always worked so hard to take care of us and keep us in a good neighborhood and a good school district. The sooner I finish school and start working, the sooner I can start helping her."

"Will she let you?" Uncle Leon had always refused to let Keats help him financially, even though Keats made bank with his job.

"I hope so. I haven't talked to her about it." He gripped the wheel a little tighter. "Mom and I aren't really close. We have very different personalities and we butted heads a lot when I was growing up. I think that's why I needed closure on my dad so much, because I always believed he would have understood me in a way she couldn't."

I couldn't imagine any mother having problems with Worthy. He was a good guy, who looked out for people, even girls who fell for him without bothering to get to know him first. "What sort of fights did you have?"

He glanced at me. "Typical teenager stuff. She depended on me to take care of my brothers when she worked, and I wanted to go out with my friends. More than that, though, we just don't have any of the same interests. She thought football was a waste of time. She thought I could get an academic scholarship, if I spent more time on my schoolwork. I got straight A's and took every AP class the school offered, but it wasn't enough for her. She didn't think I was serious enough. She hated all the questions I asked about my dad. I think I reminded her of him, any trait she thought he had that was bad I had it, too. She blamed him for me not aspiring to be more than a teacher or a camp counselor, it was his love of the outdoors that kept me from helping out around the house, anything and everything was blamed on him. A bunch of small things that added up to a big distance between us."

"Do you want to live close to your mom after you graduate?"

He shuddered. "I hate the suburbs. I'd love a place in the mountains like your uncle has, but it will depend on where the jobs are. If you go into the forestry service like you plan to, you'll have to live wherever they put you, will it be hard to be away from your uncle?"

I nodded, not wanting to think about it, then realized he couldn't see me with his gaze focused on the road. "It'll be hard. But it would be harder doing anything else. I just can't imagine being happy at a job that forced me to be inside or in the city."

"I can see that."

The prison was only two hours away and we spent the rest of the drive fighting over music. Worthy was in the mood for hip-hop and I wanted classic rock, which he claimed to hate. For a little while I forgot that we weren't together anymore, couldn't be together anymore, and I knew it would hurt that much more to say goodbye to him again.

"I'm starving," he said when we were about twenty minutes from our destination. "Mind if we stop somewhere?"

"Sure. Visiting hours don't start for another forty-five minutes, so we've got time."

We spent the next ten minutes arguing about where to go and finally decided on a sub shop. Worthy parked outside and smiled at me, looking as easy and happy as he had when we'd first started dating. "I miss arguing with you."

"Me, too," I said. Not adding, _as long as it's not about major stuff like my uncle killing your father_ , because I didn't want to dampen his good mood.

"Maybe you should come in with me to talk to my dad," I said over an Italian sub that tasted like heaven.

He stopped chewing and stared at me, wide-eyed. "Because you want the support?"

"Because maybe my dad could give you some more answers about your dad."

"I got all the answers I needed from my mom," he said after he'd chewed in silence for several long minutes. "I don't need anything else."

I let it go, finished my sub and followed him out to the car. He drove us to the prison in silence, but I didn't get out right away when he pulled up. "Are you sure you don't want to talk to my dad?"

"I'm sure. Unless you need me there for moral support."

Anger started a slow simmer. "Your mom might not know everything about your dad," I said. "My dad might be able to tell you things she couldn't."

I saw annoyance register in his eyes and in the twist of his brow. "There's no way he knew my father better than my mother did."

I just stared, anger and hurt and compassion warring. I should have let it go, just let him keep his delusions, but his delusions were keeping me from him. And I'd had such a good day with him. I hated those delusions. "Maybe not. But you claim you want answers, you claim you want the truth. My father might be able to give you some new information."

The only sign of his anger was his clenched jaw. "I've been looking for answers for years. I'm not afraid of anything. I've got my answers, now, and I'm trying to move on."

"Really?" I asked. "Answers are all you wanted? You don't want to make my uncle pay for killing your father? Not even a little bit? Because maybe my father can give you what you need to take down my uncle." I wanted to get under Worthy's skin. I wanted to make him question his family as he'd made me question mine. I wanted to know that he wouldn't try to hurt my uncle.

"If I wanted to go after him, I could," he said. "There's no statute of limitations on murder and I have enough to go to the police and have them re-open the case, but I don't want to do that. I needed answers, and I got them."

"If you truly believe my uncle killed your father with no good motive, if you believe my uncle took your father from your life for no good reason, why wouldn't you go after him? I would, in your place."

"I have a bit more real-world experience than you do, Remy. And I have control. I don't want to drag my mother back into the past she's worked so hard to move forward from. I don't want to start a messy court case without more evidence."

"Maybe you don't really want to know the truth," I said. "My aunt Betty confirmed everything Uncle Leon said about your father. The reason the autopsy showed he wasn't on drugs when he died is because your mother bribed a county official." Worthy flinched and I slapped a hand over my mouth. I hadn't meant to tell him all of that, at least not like that.

He looked at the prison. "Honestly, Remy, your family are all criminals and low-lifes, I don't know how you can believe anything they say. I'm not interested in the gossip your aunt heard."

I sucked in a gasp at his insults, but I pushed my hurt down and really looked at him. I took a moment, because I knew him and nothing he'd just said sounded like the Worthy I knew. "You're afraid," I said. "You're afraid my father will tell you my uncle was right about your dad and you don't want to hear it."

He closed down, his face void of emotion. "Well, then it's good you've moved on from me so easily. I'm sure Bentley would believe your nightmares over his own mother. I'm sure he's the better guy."

All of my anger deflated. "No. He's not the better guy."

I got out of the car and shut the door gently behind me. I wouldn't want to knock the door off his rust-bucket accidentally. I marched toward the jail and my father.

***

The man before me looked older than I'd expected. He was only ten years older than Aunt Betty, but if I hadn't known who he was, I might have mistaken him for her father. He looked worn out and hard, scars lining one side of his face and tattoos covering his arms. He stared at me with a gaze that made me shiver, and then he laughed. There was nothing pleasant about that laugh and it brought back memories of me running and hiding when I heard it. That laugh usually meant he was pissed. Probably not with me, but it was scary enough even so.

"Hell, girl," he said. "Betty told me you were still alive, but I only half believed her. Arle was spitting mad when he called me and told me he was going to kill me. I was sure he'd taken his anger out on you. Thought Betty was fucking with me when she told me you were still alive, trying to make me feel better. But there you are, looking just like your mother." He shook his head and swore. "Fuck I miss her. Missed you, too, but Betty said you were better off. Were you?"

My father looked nothing like me, but apparently he had a habit of rambling on just I like did, and he tilted his head the way I knew I did when I was waiting for an answer. "I've been happy with the McKinneys. Leon raised me in the mountains and I practically lived outdoors. I love being outside."

"Got that from your mother," he said, which kind of annoyed me. I was Remy, not some derivative of a dead woman.

"What was she like?"

His expression softened and I could see that he'd been handsome before he'd hardened with experience and tough living. "She was sunshine." He chuckled. "I know that sounds hokey, but that's what she was to me. She was always smiling and singing. She loved life and she loved me and, for the few days she had you, she loved you. She never needed other things. She never asked me for anything else, but I wanted to give her the world." He shook his head. "No, that's not true. I wanted to show everyone else I'd given my woman the world."

"Pretty honest about yourself."

He nodded. "Yeah, I try to be. I'm not a good man, Rachel, don't ever make the mistake of thinking I am, but I hate lying more than anything else. Lying is what got me in here."

"You lied about something?"

He shuddered with laughter. "No, sugar. I killed a man for lying to me. Bastard told me to my face that he'd lost my shipment, when I knew..." he shuddered with rage this time. "I knew he'd sold the stuff and kept the money for himself. I couldn't let that fly. Just my bad luck he happened to be an undercover cop."

I gasped, but I didn't understand. "So, he couldn't have sold the stuff, right? If he was a cop?"

My father sneered. "No, he sold it. Dirty cop and everyone knows it. Still, I'm the one who gets locked up in this hellhole for the rest of my life. He deserved what he got for lying to me about who he was and stealing from me, but I got put away for life."

And I saw what my aunt had been talking about, that sense of entitlement and superiority he'd probably always had. I changed the subject. "What sorts of things did my mother like?"

He smiled and softened again. "She was so smart, she glowed with it. She took an interest in everything. Read every book she could get her hands on, and spent as much time outside as she could. She took you outside the same day you were born. Said she was introducing you to the world."

I could almost see her, holding a tiny me and showing me the world.

"If she'd lived," my father went on. "I would have been a different man. I would have been a good father, but she left me and I lost my way."

That just annoyed me. "I don't like liars either."

He smirked at me like I was beneath him. "Just say what you're implying."

"I'm saying it's bullshit that you would have been different if she'd lived. No one can change us that much."

He shook his head, his easy smile returning, when I'd expected, maybe even wanted, anger. "If you believe that, sugar, then you've never been in love." He looked at me and his expression changed again, mercurial and animated. "Have you been in love? Have you been happy?"

So, I told him about my life with Leon and my experiences at college. Then I found myself telling him about Worthy and Arle and how I loved Worthy, but couldn't be with him.

My father leaned back in his chair and chuckled. "I remember his daddy. He would have been a good man on my team if he hadn't started using. The drugs made him cruel and crazy. I'd be willing to bet your boyfriend remembers that side of his daddy, but he's pushed it away." He chewed on his bottom lip for a moment and an officer came over and motioned for my visitor's pass, signaling the end of my visit. "None of that past stuff should matter, though, if you really love him. Forget all of that stuff and just focus on the future." He glared at the officer leading me away, then smiled and waved. "Come see me again, baby girl," he yelled just before I walked out the door.

I walked through the jail with the guard. I could see my father's faults, just as Betty had depicted them, but some part of me also enjoyed his honesty and wanted to take his advice. The more I heard his voice the more memories returned, of times he'd swung me up in the air, of times he'd read to me and laughed with me and loved me. Those good memories didn't eclipse the bad, but sat there next to them, making me love and hate my father at the same time.

When I stepped outside, I half expected Worthy to be gone, since I'd been inside for hours. The process of getting to see my father had taken a lot longer than I'd expected. But Worthy was there, waiting for me, despite everything. He'd always been there, no matter what I did or how hard I pushed him away.

I got into the car, my earlier anger at him gone in the face of what I'd learned from my father. I felt bad for Worthy, because his mother had lied to him and his father hadn't been the man he wanted to believe he was.

"How'd it go?" he asked, closing the book he'd been reading.

"Good," I said. "He was about what I'd expected." I averted my eyes with the lie, because my father had actually been better than I'd expected. He was everything Betty had told me he was, but he had also loved my mother and he'd been happy to see me. He'd asked me to come see him again. I figured all of those were huge positives. I'd already known he was a criminal, had probably known it even before Leon spoke the words. I didn't want to tell Worthy any of that, though. I felt guilty, somehow, that I had a father when he didn't.

Worthy got out of the back seat, where he'd been stretched out, and walked to the driver's seat. He got in behind the wheel and closed the door. "He backed up what Leon said about my dad, didn't he?" he asked, his eyes on the dashboard, his voice low.

"I didn't ask."

"But he told you anyway, didn't he? Did you talk about me?"

"If you'd really wanted the answers to those questions, you would have gone in with me."

He cursed and started the engine. He spun gravel out behind us as he headed for the interstate.

***

I was in my room, studying, music blaring through my earbuds, when someone grabbed my arm, hard. I screamed and jumped to my feet, knocking my textbook on the floor. Music continued to play as I took in Bell standing in front of me, face pale, tears streaming down her cheeks. I yanked out my earbuds. "What happened?"

"It's Frankie," she said. "She's in the hospital. I think it's bad."

I felt numb with shock, unable to hear and comprehend what she'd said. "What happened?"

She shook her head, her eyes wide and wild, like she was going to fall apart. I grabbed her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. "Breathe, Bell. Just breathe."

She nodded, but she didn't breathe and her eyes got wilder.

"Okay," I said. "It's going to be okay." I wasn't sure I believed it, but I didn't know what else to say to her. I pushed her down to sit on Frankie's bed and shoved her head between her knees. I heard her take in a ragged breath and I left her long enough to grab my cell phone from my desk. I typed out a quick message to Byron while I rubbed her back. I had no idea if he was at his place or not, but he texted me back almost immediately to let me know he'd be there as soon as he could.

"Byron's on his way," I said. Bell was still bent over, her breathing fast. "He'll take us to the hospital."

She pushed up to a sitting position. "I'll get my coat and shoes." She left my room and I got my own coat on and laced up my tennis shoes. Bell was back before I was done. She'd just shoved her feet into slip-on loafers.

"He hasn't texted back, yet," I said. "But we could go downstairs and wait."

"Yeah, okay." We hurried down to the street level and bounced together in the cold, under a streetlight. Our breath puffed in front of us in frosty clouds.

"What happened?" I asked.

"I don't know," she said. "But they've arrested Duran."

"What? Why?" Understanding dawned before I'd finished speaking. "They think he...He hurt her?"

"I guess so. A girl from our psych class lives in Duran's building. She saw the ambulance and saw them loading Frankie into it. Then she saw the police take Duran away. That's all I know. I'm not even sure which hospital they took her to."

"Okay." Rage and confusion mingled under my skin. I'd thought Duran was a player and a douche bag, but I'd never seen anything to make me think he'd hurt Frankie physically. "It'll be okay. We'll find her."

What felt like hours, but was probably only a few minutes later, Worthy pulled up in his dilapidated rust bucket with Bentley in the front passenger seat. Bell and I ran and got into the back. "Where's—"

"Byron figured we could get to you faster than he could," Worthy said. "Do you know which hospital they took Frankie to?"

We lived in a college town that only had one major hospital, but Frankie could have been taken to a nearby city to one of the larger hospitals if she was really hurt badly. "Let's just start at Parkview," I said, naming the local hospital.

Worthy nodded and took off. Bentley shifted in his seat and looked back at us. "Do you know what happened to her?"

"No idea," I said. "They've arrested Duran."

Worthy hissed in a harsh breath and swore, and Bentley scowled. "How could anyone hurt a sweet girl like Frankie?" he asked.

No one had an answer, so we rode to the hospital in silence.

At the hospital, we were able to find out that Frankie was a patient there, that she was unconscious, but stable. The nurse at the desk couldn't do any more than direct us to a seventh floor waiting room to wait for news.

I sank into a chair in the waiting room, but I was wired, wanting to do something and unable to accept there was nothing I could do. Bell sat next to me, but her expression was blank and she was shaking just a bit. "She told me she was going to the library to meet him to study, but she didn't look happy. Something was bothering her, but I was in the middle of a study session and I didn't stop her from leaving. I should have made her talk to me."

"It's not your fault," I said. "If we all stopped each other every time one of us seemed off, we'd never leave the dorm."

Worthy sat next to me and took my hand in his. I let him do it and was grateful enough for comfort in any form not to push him away. Bentley sat next to Bell and wrapped an arm around her. She dropped her head to his shoulder. The two of them had gotten to be pretty good friends since Bentley and I had started spending so much time together.

I'd texted Byron as soon as we'd headed up to the seventh floor and he found us there moments later.

"Do you know anything?" he asked.

"Just that she's unconscious and Duran's been arrested."

Byron dropped into the seat next to Worthy. "I should have let Harrison kill the guy when I had the chance."

"Oh, god," I said. "Harrison. We should call him."

"Yeah, I thought of him," Byron said. "I thought I'd wait until we heard she's going to be okay. He's going to lose his shit, if..."

"He's going to lose his shit either way," I said. "I think he'd want to be here."

Byron nodded and volunteered to make the call. Harrison showed up twenty minutes later. His eyes were wild and his jaw was clenched with anger. "Have you heard anything?" he asked.

I shook my head and Harrison sat next to Bentley. He only stayed down for a minute, before he leapt to his feet and started pacing. "I should have killed that motherfucker when I had the chance."

I got up and grabbed his elbow. I knew he didn't like to be touched, but I pulled him close and wrapped my arms around him in an awkward hug. He gasped and choked, then took a deep breath and got himself under control. "Shit," he muttered.

"Yeah," I said. He pushed me away and I let him, but he sat back down, and he seemed calmer.

Frankie's parents arrived an hour later. Her mother was petite and slim and lacked Frankie's voluptuous curves, but she had the same shiny hair and smile as Frankie. Her dad recognized me from move-in day and they promised to let us know what they found out from the doctor. They went and talked to a nurse, only to come and sit near us and wait like the rest of us.

***

Worthy shook me awake and I sat up to find I'd fallen asleep on his shoulder. Bell was crying next to me and Harrison was staring straight ahead. I looked up into Worthy's face and saw tears in his eyes. "Oh, god, no," I said, sure Frankie had died.

His eyes widened. "No, no. She's just in a medically-induced coma. The doctors say it looks good for a full recovery, but she has to come out of the coma before they can be sure."

I rubbed my eyes and tried to take that in. Frankie was in a coma. My chest tightened, and I reached for Bell, who turned and sobbed into my shoulder. "What else?" I asked.

They had to operate because there was some swelling in her brain," he said. "They aren't sure if she'll have brain damage or not."

I slapped a hand over my mouth and swallowed back bile. "When will they know?"

"When she wakes up," Worthy said. He wasn't meeting my eyes.

"What else?"

He sighed. "Her hand is broken, but otherwise she's fine."

I rubbed my hand over my face and squeezed Bell tighter.

"You should go home, and get some sleep," he said. "There's nothing we can do for her now."

"No," I said. "Take Bell home. I'm staying."

"So am I," Harrison said.

"I'll stay, too," Bentley said.

Worthy frowned, but he didn't argue. He patted Byron on the knee and the two of them stood and left with Bell. She gave me a teary wave as she walked out with them. Frankie's parents were no longer in the waiting room, and I figured they were in Frankie's room.

Harrison, Bentley, and I kept each other entertained with games on our phones, and then the old-fashioned, pen and paper games like hangman and tic-tac-toe. I tried to convince Harrison to play truth or dare, but he didn't think it was appropriate in a hospital. We were laughing at his imagined description of a truth or dare game gone wrong when Harrison froze.

I followed his gaze to the doorway of the waiting room and saw Duran. "How is she?" he asked. He looked exhausted, drawn and pale.

Harrison leapt to his feet and crossed the room in three long, angry strides. I ran after him, but I didn't make it to him before he'd thrown a hard punch at Duran's face. Duran's head rocked back, but he didn't raise his fists or try to fight. "I'm sorry," he said.

"You're about to be a whole lot sorrier." Harrison lunged again. I grabbed his arm, but it was Bentley who grabbed Harrison and held him back.

"Not here," Bentley said.

Harrison fought against his grip. "You want to tell us how you think you have the right to show up here after beating Frankie so bad she might have brain damage?"

Duran's face went slack. "Brain damage?"

"That's right," Bentley said. "You did that to her."

"Yes," Duran said. He raised his hands in the air and took a step back. "But not in the way you think. I swear to you I didn't lay a hand on her. She punched me."

"Why should we believe anything you say?" Harrison asked.

"Because the police let me go, man. There were witnesses."

Bentley must have felt the tension leave Harrison, because he released him, but stayed close and ready to jump in if he was needed. "Talk," Harrison said.

"I was supposed to meet her at the library, but..." He looked around at the ten or so other people in the waiting room who were watching us with rapt attention. "I was otherwise engaged."

"You mean you were with another girl." Harrison said.

Duran licked his lips, his expression going defensive before he looked at the wall of Harrison and Bentley and thought better of it. "Yeah. Anyway, Frankie came to my place and we had a fight and she punched me. She ran out and I ran after her. I was going to apologize, to try to talk to her, but she...she slipped on the stairs and she fell. She hit so hard, I thought..." He shuddered. "Is she hurt really bad?"

Harrison just glared at Duran, his hands fisted, so I stepped between them. "They won't know anything until she wakes up, Duran. You should go." I handed him my phone. "Give me your number and I'll text you when we know something."

He took my phone, put in his information and left. Bentley slapped Harrison on the back and we all returned to our seats. "Do you believe him?" Harrison asked.

"It sounds more likely than him beating her up. He never seemed like a violent or controlling guy when I saw them together."

"And he's right about the police not letting him go so quickly unless they had proof he didn't hurt her," Bentley said.

"Yeah," Harrison said.

"And why would he admit to her catching him with another girl if he was lying to us?"

Harrison shook his head. "Frankie must have been crushed."

"Yeah." I felt bad for Frankie, but more than a little relieved that Duran would be out of her life for good. She deserved someone far better than him.

As the sun rose and warmed the waiting room, Bell and Worthy walked in.

"We're up," Worthy said. "You three go home and get an hour's nap and go to class. And take notes for me." I'd texted Bell about our run-in with Duran, and I assumed she'd told Worthy.

Worthy's tone brooked no arguing, but there was no point. As much as we might like to stay, none of us could skip out on our lives. Frankie wouldn't want that. "We'll be back after class," I said.

"No," Bell said. "We're here until dinner. You guys come about six and then Byron's got the overnight shift, from midnight to morning."

I nodded, forcing my eyes away from Worthy. He looked tired, with dark circles under his eyes, and he was staring at me, scanning me from head to toe, as though checking to make sure I was okay. I gave him a weak smile and had to take a step back to keep myself from rushing into his arms, his comfort. I had to remind myself that he'd lied to me and he'd used me. _So, what's he doing here now?_ asked a tiny voice in the back of my head. I had no answer and I didn't want to think about it. Frankie was what mattered, and I wouldn't waste energy worrying about Worthy.

As I passed him, Worthy grabbed my elbow with a gentle touch. "Happy birthday," he said.

"Thanks." He let go and I walked on. I was touched that he'd remembered my birthday, and glad he hadn't made a big deal about it when everyone's focus should be on Frankie.

We continued to take shifts at the hospital for the next few days. Frankie's parents promised us they'd call if anything changed, but we all agreed one of us should be there when Frankie woke up. We wanted her to see a friendly face, we wanted one of our own to make sure she was okay. Everyone assumed Frankie's parents would take her home once she woke up. Even though we shared a class, Worthy somehow managed to work the schedule so that he and I were never together in that lonely, drab waiting room. He kept his distance from me, but every time I saw him in passing, he studied me and looked me over, making sure I was okay. And I couldn't stop looking at him, couldn't stop my gaze from sliding to his and making the same check of him.

Bell and I were together, three days after Frankie nearly died, in the hospital waiting room. Bell had her nose in her Kindle and I didn't bother trying to talk to her. She'd slipped farther and farther into her fictional worlds the longer it took for Frankie to wake up. Bell moved through her days like a robot, only showing emotion in reaction to what she was reading on her screen. I had my biology textbook on my lap and had read the same line seven times, trying to get it to sink in.

"Remington? Liza Bell?" We looked up to see Frankie's mother standing over us, her hands clasped in front of her chest, tears streaming down her cheeks. My heart froze in my chest. "Girls, Frankie's awake and she's asking for you."

My breath came in a loud gush and I leapt to my feet. My textbook hit the floor with a crash that made me jump and remember where I was. I picked up my book and turned to see Bell hovering over her phone. She looked up. "I just texted them. Let's go."

We gathered our things and followed Frankie's mother.

Frankie smiled when we walked in. She looked pale and there were dark circles under her eyes and a bandage on her head. Tears started down her cheeks when she saw us and I wanted, more than anything I'd ever wanted, to find Duran and make him pay for how he'd hurt my best friend, even if he hadn't meant to do it.

"I'm so sorry," Frankie said, her voice raspy.

"You don't have anything to be sorry for," Bell said. I had to bite my lower lip not to cry.

Frankie frowned. "I know I scared you both. My parents said you've been living here, waiting for me to wake up. I'm sorry I put you through all that."

"We're just so glad you're okay," I said. "We would do anything for you."

She nodded, her eyes drooping just a bit, and I could tell she was tired. "I'm so lucky to have you both as my friends."

"We're lucky to have you, sugar," Bell said.

"I think my parents want to take me home for a little while," Frankie said. "We have to work things out with the school, but I'll be back next semester, so don't let anyone take my spot in our room."

"I wouldn't dream of it," I said. "I'll text you every day and tell you what everyone's doing."

Frankie nodded and more tears welled. "I'm so sorry. It's so stupid. I was pissed at Duran and I wasn't looking where I was going, and I just fell. I fell really hard. It's pretty embarrassing."

I gave her a weak smile. "No one will tease you about it, I promise."

"Has Duran been here?" she asked.

"He stopped by. I'll text him and let him know you're okay."

Her smile slipped and her expression darkened. "Don't hurry. He deserves to suffer a little while longer. I really liked him." She looked over our shoulders. "I had sex with him, because he told me he loved me and then he..."

"You're way too good for him, sugar," Bell said. "And Remy won't text him for another day at least, right, Remy?"

"Right," I said. "Let him hurt for a while."

Frankie's eyes clouded and she frowned. "Do you really think he's hurting? Oh, that was so mean of me. Just text him, Remy. I don't want him to worry."

Bell bent and kissed her forehead. "We know you don't, sugar. You aren't a bad person for wanting him to hurt a little. Maybe it will teach him to be more respectful of the girls he's with."

Bell stood and I took her place, squeezing Frankie's good hand and kissing her cheek. "We're so glad you're well."

"I broke my hand when I punched him," she said. "I don't even think it hurt him. I couldn't even do that right."

"I'm an expert at throwing punches," I said. "I'll teach you next semester."

"Okay," she said. "I want..." She looked at both of us and hesitated, her eyes drooping a bit. "Maybe you girls can teach me to be as strong as you are." Then her eyes drifted shut and she fell asleep.

I squeezed Frankie's hand again and kissed her. "I was wrong," I said in a low voice. "You aren't my best friend, you're my sister, my family. Take care of yourself and come back to school after the break."

I stepped aside and Bell said her goodbye to Frankie's sleeping form.

"What happened to Harrison?" I asked as Bell and I left the hospital. Byron and Bentley had been in the waiting room when we got there and were going to hang out and speak to Frankie when she woke, but Harrison hadn't been there.

Bell handed me her phone and I looked at a text from Harrison that said, _I'm the last person she needs right now, but I'm glad she's awake._

"What the hell does that mean?"

"Hell if I know," Bell said.

I dialed him on my cell while we waited for the bus. "Hey? Is she okay?" Harrison asked, sounding like he'd just woken up.

"Yes, she looks really good, which you would have known if you'd come to see her."

"Not a good idea," he said, his tone curt.

"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. You're obviously crazy—"

"Come back here, baby, and finish what you started." The girl must have been right next to Harrison, because I could hear her like she was talking to me. She giggled and Harrison moaned.

"Eww," I said. "Harrison do not make those kind of sounds in my ear."

He chuckled, but the sound carried no mirth. "Then don't call me while I'm in bed with a chick."

"How about you don't answer your phone when you're in bed with a girl," I said, not sure why I was so annoyed.

"Deal. Gotta go."

I pulled the phone from my ear and stared at it. "He hung up on me. He was in bed with some girl and he hung up on me."

Bell shook her head. "He's more hard-headed than I thought."

Before I could answer, Worthy pulled up.

"Sweet," Bell said, doing a little shimmy. "No bus for us."

She climbed into the back and I considered getting back there with her, but decided it would be too rude after all the nice things Worthy had done for me and Frankie and Bell. I slid into the passenger seat and the grin he gave me made my heart flip.

"So, she looked good?" he asked as he pulled into traffic.

We told him all about Frankie and, when he pulled up to the dorm, I was feeling a bit giddy from lack of sleep and relief. I started to thank Worthy and hop out of the car, but he stopped me with a word.

"Remy."

I turned and found all the humor gone from his face. Bell hopped out and headed inside without a glance back. I silently cursed her. I sat and waited.

"Any chance we can start over?" he asked.

I should have known he'd ask, but I truly hadn't thought much about him and me while Frankie had been in a coma. I'd been focused on my friend and he'd kept his distance enough for me to pretend that distance was our new normal. "No," I said. "I can't just forget what you did or who we are. I'm still not sure I believe you aren't planning to go after my uncle." I could no longer believe he had any intention of hurting me, not after the past three days, but I also couldn't believe we could ever go back. "And I can't trust you, Worthy. I'd always wonder if you had an ulterior motive for everything you did."

His eyes widened. "What? No, Remy. If I wanted to go after your uncle, I'd go to the police. And I won't do that, because it would hurt you. If anything, I feel like I need to make up for what my father did to you. It was because of him that you had nightmares all those years, that you were stuck at home with Leon for twelve years."

"So, everything you did these past few days was just to make up for what your father did?" I asked.

"No—"

"Because you don't owe me anything. Your father's sins aren't yours. If anything, he did me a favor. I was better off being raised by Leon than I would have been with my own father. You're absolved, you can go on with your life." I was so tired and worn out, I just wanted to be alone and sleep for about ten hours. I didn't want to see the hurt on Worthy's face or understand that he might be sincere, because that would mean I'd have to open myself up to him, to risk my heart to him again, and I didn't think I could do that.

"I just want you back. I want things to be like they used to be, when we were together."

I couldn't help the snort that escaped my lips. "None of what we had was real."

I got out and slammed the door before he could say another word.

My room felt empty without Frankie in it. Soon, her parents would show up and pack up her things and the other side of the room would be bare and lonely. There were a couple of packages waiting for me, gifts from Uncle Leon and my cousins. I pushed them aside to open later. Byron had sent a text on my birthday, promising to take me out for drinks once we knew Frankie was okay, but I wasn't in the mood to celebrate anything. I stripped out of my clothes and curled up in bed, planning to sleep until I had to be at work the next morning.

### CHAPTER FIFTEEN

I was still yawning two days later, when Bentley knocked on my door. I opened it and couldn't help but return his broad smile. "I think you should give Worthy another chance," Bentley said.

"I really don't think...Wait, what?" I'd been prepared for Bentley to ask me out again, I hadn't expected him to defend Worthy.

"Can I come in?" He pushed past me without waiting for an answer and sat on Frankie's bare bed. Her parents had asked me to pack up her stuff and I had it by the door. I'd been to see Frankie every day since she'd woken up and was planning to go see her again in about fifteen minutes.

"Um, sure," I said. "Make yourself at home."

He smiled and gave a little bounce on the bed. "I met Worthy during my freshman year," he said. "We pledged together and he...he's always been focused, you know. He takes school very seriously and he's not a big drinker or partier, so he didn't really fit in with the other guys pledging the house. I figured he'd never make it in, that he'd decide the whole thing was ridiculous, but he stuck with it. He just did everything he was asked without complaint, but at the parties he didn't drink or get rowdy, he took care of the ones who did. He saved me."

"Bentley I really don't think—" I didn't want to hear what a good guy Worthy was, because I knew I was right to be angry with him and I knew it would be a mistake for me to trust him again. I missed him and that hurt, but I couldn't give in and risk getting hurt worse.

But Bentley was oblivious to my discomfort. "No, he really did save my life. Last year, I was wasted and the guys were having this crazy dart tournament. I was so drunk I didn't even know my own name and I walked right into the path of an incoming dart. Worthy appeared out of nowhere and knocked me to the ground before I could be hit."

I couldn't help but laugh at that, though Bentley's face was totally serious. "Bentley, I really don't think--"

"The year before that, he helped me study every night for two weeks for my Chemistry exam. I never would have passed without him."

"What's your point?"

He rolled his eyes. "I thought you were quicker on the uptake. My point is that Worthy isn't just a good guy, he's the best I know. He's loyal and he takes care of his friends."

"He was loyal to you," I said. "And I'm happy you have a good friend like Worthy. It doesn't mean I should keep dating him."

He looked at the floor and cracked his knuckles. "He doesn't date much, Remy, but sophomore year, he dated a really hot girl." Bentley caught my eye and winced. "Not anywhere near as hot as you of course, but definitely cute with..." he gestured to show me the girl had large breasts.

It shouldn't have bothered me, I was done with Worthy, but the idea of him with another girl twisted something in my chest. It didn't feel good. "I don't really want to—"

"I think they might have gotten serious, if I hadn't slept with her."

"You slept with her?" All my feelings of discomfort suddenly found a new home in my anger at Bentley. "After everything he did for you? You slept with his girlfriend?"

"For the record," he said. "It happened before he tutored me in chemistry or saved my life. And she came on to me." He hung his head. "It was still a shitty thing to do and I will always regret it, but Worthy forgave me. He beat me up and then he forgave me. He's a good guy, Remy, and, whatever he's done, you should forgive him."

"Easy for you to say. You don't know what he's done."

"Is it worse than sleeping with the girl you're dating?" He asked, eyes wide.

He was such a goof ball, I couldn't help laughing at him. "I'll take what you said under advisement, but I'm leaving to go see Frankie in ten minutes, so you should probably go."

Bentley smiled and left. I sent Worthy a text.

Me: Really? Did you actually think that would work?

He texted back almost immediately.

Worthy: It didn't?

Me: So you admit it? You put Bentley up to this?

Worthy: It would probably be more effective if I didn't admit anything, but I've promised never to lie to you again, not even by omission.

I closed my phone and pulled on my shoes and coat and gloves to go see Frankie. I tried to pretend the smile on my face wasn't for Worthy.

***

"They're going to release me tomorrow," Frankie said. "And my parents are taking me straight home."

She looked good, her cheeks had some color to them again and she was smiling. Pain still lurked in her eyes, but I thought there was good hope for her to recover from both the head injury and from Duran's idiocy.

"That's great," I said. "I'll miss you so much, but I'm sure you want to be home with your parents so they can take care of you."

She rolled her eyes. "Please. I'm already bored just thinking about it. Tell me something interesting. What's going on with you and Worthy?"

"Not much. We're still done. He sent Bentley over today with stories about how wonderful he is to try and convince me to give him another chance."

She bit her lip. "He really is crazy about you."

I couldn't meet her eyes. "Or, he's a really excellent actor."

She shrugged. "Maybe." She stared out the window for a long moment. "He stopped by, you know."

My jaw dropped. Worthy knew Frankie, but the two of them hadn't hung out. "Wow," I said. "That's...um, that's great."

"He was really sweet. He brought me some magazines and a book to read. He said Bell recommended the book."

I nodded, something catching in my throat. He was nicer than me, I'd only brought Frankie candy.

"He said that the magazines were Harrison's idea. I kind of expected Harrison to come see me."

I dropped my eyes to the floor so she wouldn't see anything in them that might upset her. I didn't know how to explain his reason for not visiting. "I...I know he wants to see you, Frankie. He was here every day when you were in a...when you were sleeping. He just..." I looked up and met her eyes. She deserved more from me. "Honestly, I think he's crazy about you, but for some reason he's got this idea that he'd be bad for you. If anything, he cares too much and that's why he's stayed away."

She flinched and her brow twisted. "Then, I'm glad then he didn't come. I need a break from intense emotion." I thought I saw tears in her eyes, but she recovered quickly and forced a smile. "That's why I was really glad when Worthy left. He was just whining about how much he missed you and begging me to put in a good word for him with you. Talk about intense emotions. Whew." She pretended to fan herself.

"I can't trust anything he says," I said. "You have to understand that. I mean, could you ever trust Duran again?"

She bit her lip. "I don't plan to ever have to trust Duran again, but Worthy's not Duran. I believe him, Remy. I think he's really crazy about you and wants to be with you for real."

"Oh, my god," I muttered. "He's got you, too."

She just laughed. I changed the subject to the group of locals who'd tried to pretend they were students and get into the cafeteria. They'd flirted with me endlessly trying to convince me to let them in. Frankie was laughing when I left, but she looked tired and a little sad behind the laughter.

_WTF! Stay out of Frankie's head_ **,** I texted Worthy while I waited for the bus.

Worthy: Did it work?

Me: What?

Worthy: Did she tell you how wonderful I am and convince you to give me another chance? I promise to never lie to you again.

Me: I hate you!!

Worthy: Then why do you keep texting me?

I wanted to throw my phone at the bus as it pulled up, but I calmly put it in my pocket. Worthy had manipulated Frankie, no matter what he called it, and he had clearly used her to get in my good graces. He was still a manipulator and a liar. And I hated him. I hated him. I repeated that over and over in my head, until I believed it. Or at least told myself I did.

***

I didn't see Worthy for the rest of the week, except in biology class where he sat far away from me, but I did see six more of his frat brothers. All of them told me stories about what a good friend Worthy was and how he'd helped them or saved their lives. If I was honest, I had to admit it was wearing me down, but I couldn't get past my fear that Worthy would hurt me or my uncle. His persistence did convince me that his interest in me went beyond what information I could get for him about his father's death. He had no reason to pursue me unless he wanted to be with me for real or he wanted to get revenge on my uncle. I wasn't sure which it was, and I wasn't sure I'd ever know with any certainty. I didn't text Worthy to complain about his friends visiting me, because I didn't want him to accuse me of soliciting his attention again.

Byron showed up at my door on the seventh day.

"Oh, for the love of tomato sandwiches," I said. "Are you serious with this shit?"

Byron pushed past me and sat on my bed. "Dad and Betty are getting married," he said. "Betty should be calling today to tell you. She wanted to be the one to do it, but Dad is feeling like he should tell you. I'm giving you a heads up so that you can call him and congratulate him as soon as Betty tells you."

"Oh," I said, a bit disappointed he wasn't there to tell me more stories about Worthy.

"You aren't happy about it?" he asked, his tone defensive.

"No! I mean yes. I'm thrilled. And of course I'll call Uncle Leon as soon as Betty tells me their amazing news."

He eyed me for a moment, before a slow smile lit his face like the sun after a storm. "Oh, I get it. You were hoping I was the latest salvo in Worthy's battle to win you back, weren't you?"

"What?" I pretended to be distracted by a hangnail. "No, of course not. I was just thinking about this big test I have—"

"Bullshit." His laugh was a roar that filled the empty spaces in my room. "The truth is he asked me to talk to you for him and I said no."

"Because you don't trust him?"

He studied me, and I could see his mind working. "Of course, I trust him, and I will trust him until he gives me a good reason not to. I promised I'd stay out of your love life, and I'm going to keep that promise. Even if I do think he's being an idiot."

"He's an idiot?" I asked, trying to get a read on what my cousin really thought of Worthy and damning myself for telling him to butt out.

"Hell, yes, he's an idiot. He's sending all of the guys over here to speak for him and he's never once done anything directly to convince you of his intentions. I told him he needs to get off his lazy butt and start wooing you properly."

"Really?" I asked. "Wooing me?"

"Yes, as you should be wooed. I'm talking flowers and candles and reservations and all that prissy shit you deserve."

"I'm not exactly that kind of girl," I said, thinking I was more the paintball, rock-climbing, hiking in the forest kind of girl.

"Like hell you aren't." He stood like he was going to leave.

"Byron, I know I told you to butt out, but do you think I can trust him?"

"I'm not going there, little sister, because if I do and you take him back than every time he does anything you don't like, I'm going to get the blame."

"What if I promise I won't?"

He grabbed my shoulders and pulled me in for a tight hug. "I'll see you later, Sis."

***

Betty called later that afternoon and I acted appropriately surprised. Then she asked me to be her maid of honor, and I was truly surprised. I may have even shed a tear or two, but I'm not admitting to it.

I still had tears in my eyes when I called my uncle to congratulate him.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you myself, baby girl, but your aunt wanted to give you the news and I couldn't tell her no."

"I'm just happy to know," I said. "I don't care which of you told me. Did you know she asked me to be the maid of honor?"

Leon was quiet for a long while, but a few telltale sniffles gave him away. "I didn't know that, darlin', but I'm so glad she did. There's no one I'd rather have standing up with us. Keats is going to be my best man, and the other boys will be groomsmen. I believe Betty has some friends to stand with her."

"That sounds really nice."

He cleared his throat. "I didn't know which of the boys to ask to be my best man, so I just picked the oldest. I hope Byron isn't upset."

If I knew Byron, he was just looking forward to the reception and was probably glad Keats would be responsible for the best man duties. "He didn't seem upset when I saw him this morning." I realized my mistake a moment later. "Not that he told me about the wedding, of course."

Leon chuckled. "Of course, he didn't, but maybe we better keep that bit of information from Betty."

"Okay," I said, smacking myself on the forehead.

"Are you going to bring the Stanley boy with you?"

I didn't want to tell Leon about me and Worthy breaking up, because I knew he liked Worthy and I didn't want him to worry. "No. He won't be able to make the wedding."

"Well, that's too bad. I like him. I hope everything's okay between you two."

"Sure is." I hated to lie to my uncle, but I hated him worrying about me more. "I've got to get some work done, but congratulations again. I'm so happy for you."

"Thank you, sugar. I love you."

I hung up and tried to focus on my schoolwork, but an idea kept niggling at the back of my brain and I couldn't let it go. I finally stood and banged on the wall between my and Bell's rooms.

"What?" she yelled.

"Got a minute? I need to bounce an idea off you."

She popped her head in the room a moment later. I did my best not to moan when I saw the dry erase board and the markers in her hands. She plopped down on Frankie's bed, still bare, and waited.

"So, my Uncle and Betty are getting married, and I'm thinking about inviting Worthy to the wedding."

Bell's eyes widened and she dropped her board and markers on the bed next to her. "You're going to get back together with him?"

"Yes. No. Maybe. I don't know. What I was thinking was that if he could restrain himself from causing trouble for my family at my uncle's wedding, then I'd know he was telling the truth when he said he was done with his quest for revenge. If I can be sure of that, maybe we have a chance of working past all the other stuff."

Bell's fierce frown was not the reaction I'd expected. "So, let me see if I understand this. If he ruins your uncle's wedding or hurts someone in your family, then you've proved he's not trustworthy?"

I deflated a bit. "Yes, but I don't think he'll do that."

"You don't _think_? It's still a big risk to take on the most important day of your uncle's life."

"Yeah," I said. "You're right."

And I knew she was right, but I couldn't help feeling that it would all be fine. Worthy wouldn't hurt anyone and I'd prove he was trustworthy by throwing a huge temptation in his face and watching him not take the bait. And I would watch him, I'd make sure he didn't hurt anyone or ruin the wedding. I'd protect everyone, and I'd prove once and for all whether Worthy was my friend or my enemy. It wouldn't solve all our problems, but it would be a start and maybe seeing Aunt Betty and Uncle Leon together, he'd realize they weren't the liars or the horrible people he seemed to think they were.

I could have called Worthy or even stopped by his place, but the truth was, I didn't want too much time alone with him. I was afraid I might cave or forgo the plan. So, I caught up to him after biology class.

His bright, unguarded smile when I called his name, made me hesitate, but I squared my shoulders and stuck out my chin. I had to do this, or I'd never know where we stood. "My uncle and Betty are getting married," I said. "I wondered if you might like to go to the wedding with me."

His smile widened, his eyes going that crazy amber shade. "Of course. I'd be honored." He walked with me for a few moments before his step faltered. "Do they...know I might be there?"

"Sure. Uncle Leon specifically is looking forward to seeing you."

"Good," he said, but he still looked nervous. "I'm heading to lunch, want to join me?"

"Um, thanks, but I'm actually on my way to the library to study for a bit."

He frowned. "Sure, yeah. Maybe we could get dinner tonight?"

"Sure," I said. "Text me."

I hurried off in the direction of the library before he could say another word. His bright smile and kindness were already eating away at my resolve, and I couldn't afford to back down.

When he texted me that night for dinner, I told him I had a study group I'd forgotten about. For the next week, I made myself really busy and really scarce. I even skipped biology one snowy day, just to avoid having to lie to him. And don't think I missed the irony that I was lying to him to figure out if I could trust him. The problem was, I didn't have a better way and I wasn't ready to give up on him again.

On Saturday, I convinced Byron to drive me to see my dad for the second time. I should have known Byron didn't do anything for free.

"I know I promised to stay out of your love life," he said, as soon as we were on the interstate and there was nowhere for me to run. "But, seeing as how I'm doing you this huge favor and we're stuck in the car together for a couple hours, you want to explain to me exactly what kind of mind fuck you're playing on Worthy?"

I stared out the window at the mountains, still white with snow from a few days before. The sun was warm, beating down on my face like summertime, heating up the interior of Byron's truck and making the whole cab smell like the peppermint breath mints he was addicted to. I considered dropping my head to the glass and pretending to be asleep, but chose silence instead. I cursed myself for not waiting to invite Worthy until the day before the wedding. Now I had another week to get through. At least this week would be final exams, so it should be easier to avoid him.

"Okay," he said. "Let me tell you what I think. I think you just wanted a date for Dad's wedding and you're letting Worthy think the two of you are back together so he'll go through with it. What I want to know is why you feel it's so important for you to have a date. Are you nervous about the wedding?"

"No," I said, tears pooling in my eyes. I was beginning to feel like the biggest jerk. "Just stay out of it, Byron. It's not your place."

"Does this have anything to do with who his daddy was?"

I bit down on my lip hard enough to taste blood. It had been so much easier to keep up this game when I kept busy and kept moving. Stuck in that truck with Byron and his judgment, I couldn't escape myself or my thoughts and I didn't want to think. "How am I supposed to know?" I asked.

"What?"

"How am I supposed to know if I can trust him?"

He took his eyes off the road long enough to look at me like I was crazy. "How are any of us supposed to know? He didn't have to come clean about who he was and what he was doing, Remington. He could have claimed he never knew about the connection between our families. But he told you everything and then he voluntarily told me everything. I really can't imagine what more you want."

His words hit me in the gut like a sucker punch, because I knew he was right. Worthy had done nothing but right by me, he'd done nothing but support me, and I still didn't trust him. I still had this horrible sinking feeling that he would betray me and hurt my family, and I couldn't take the risk of loving him until I was sure. "He lied to me," I said, though I couldn't remember any actual lies, more like lies by omission. "And he used me and you. And then there's the little, insignificant fact that my uncle killed his father. What kind of basis is that for a relationship?"

Byron shook his head and tapped his thumbs on the steering wheel. "I've always admired your stubbornness, Remington. I think that's how you survived almost being killed by Worthy's daddy without losing your ability to smile and find joy in life. But when you lose sight of what's important, stubbornness just becomes pure pigheadedness and that's not an admirable trait."

I groaned. "For the love of hash browns, Byron, quit speaking in riddles and tell me what you mean to say."

"I'm asking, what is your real problem with Worthy? Is it that he wasn't upfront with you about his own past or is it that he pulled one over on you and hurt your pride? Is this really about you thinking Worthy has plans to hurt any of us in retaliation for what Dad did or this about you being a little bit relieved he never has to see you vulnerable?"

I sucked in a gasp, because his words hurt. Whether they hurt because I suspected he had a point, or whether they hurt because I was surprised he thought that of me, I was too angry and hurt to say. "You really think so little of me?"

He shrugged. "I think the world of you, Remington, but at some point, you're going to have to let someone in, you're going to have to let your guard down. If you run every time the people you care about show a weakness or make a mistake, you're going to have a very lonely life."

I'd listened to his lecture, but enough was enough. "What about you, By? How's that girl you've been seeing? Oh, wait, that's right, you aren't seeing a girl. You're not seeing any girl longer than a night or two. Why don't we talk about your inability to let anyone in?"

He snorted, but he kept his mouth shut and quit trying to tell me what to do. I tried to find the sense of peace the outdoors and the mountains had always given me, but I couldn't stop the dark, restless feeling that threatened to consume me.

### CHAPTER SIXTEEN

My father smiled when he saw me. "Well, hey there girl, it sure is good to see you," he said. "I know it's a long drive. Is that boyfriend of yours waiting out in the car?"

"Byron brought me. Worthy and I broke up."

My father sucked on his teeth for a moment. "That's a shame. I like that boy."

I smiled, bemused. "You haven't even met him."

"Oh, no, sugar, I did. Didn't he tell you? He came to see me. Thought he should tell me himself that he was Arle's son and that you two were dating. I think he was looking for my blessing."

My chest was tight, and I was having trouble breathing. "Did you give it to him?"

He shrugged. "Sure, why not? If you can see past what his father did to you, then so can I."

I nodded, wondering if I should be put out that my father was so willing to admit the son of the man who'd tried to kill me into our lives. "Do you think he's like his father?" I hadn't realized I was going to ask the question until the words were out of my mouth.

He looked over his shoulder at the guard behind him, before looking back at me, his expression wary. He studied me for a moment, and I felt like he could see right through me. "I'm not worth much, sugar, but one thing I've gotten real good at is reading people. I knew from the moment I met Arle that he'd be an easy mark, and I knew he was as likely to use the product as sell it, but I brought him into my world anyway. I took that man from his wife and kids as much as he took you from me."

I hadn't thought about it that way, hadn't realized my father was aware of what he'd done. "And Worthy?"

He squinted at me, like he didn't know me. "I know you've been raised by good god-fearing folk for the past twelve years, but don't tell me you've gone so soft you've forgotten the credo."

"The what?" But then it hit me, a flow of words almost melodic. We are the family Vinton and we know what we know. We are no sheep and we do not bleat, we think and see and live for ourselves. We are the family Vinton. "I remember," I said. "I was so into fairy tales and knights that you made a coat of arms and a family credo for us."

He chuckled. "I didn't do much right, but I did do that. You get what I'm trying to tell you?"

I slumped. "You're telling me to use my own mind and to figure out what he's made of."

"Your aunt Betty thinks the only reason I took you along on jobs was as a cover, but she was wrong." He waved a hand. "Fuck. I mean, yeah, I used you as a cover, but I also used you to read people. You had a natural ability to tell who was for real and who was full of shit. I'm damn good at reading people, but you were better. You just have to push all the bullshit aside, forget your past, forget your insecurities, and really see the boy."

His words triggered a landslide of memories. I remembered watching the men and women he worked with, the people he conned. I watched how they moved and how they spoke, picking up on tells, and then reported it all back to my father. I'd been so proud, felt so strong. "But I was wrong once," I said, another memory surfacing. "I told you the guys were legit, and they weren't. They almost killed you." And he'd laid on the pavement bleeding and calling my name.

He looked over my shoulder and blinked. "That wasn't your fault, baby doll. You were right about them, it was me you were wrong about. I tried to pull one over on them and they caught me. You never could see me."

"I loved you," I said, remembering and feeling an echo of that past emotion when I looked at his face. "I loved you so much."

"And I let you down. I'm sorry for that, but don't let my mistakes ruin your present. Use that brain you have and choose better people than me to be in your life. You are a thousand times the better person than me, sugar, and you deserve to be happy."

I swallowed hard and wiped a tear from my eye. "Leon and Betty are getting married next weekend."

His smile was open and genuine. "It's about damn time. She's another one who deserves to be happy and that man makes her happy, for some reason I'll never understand."

I laughed at that. "I'll tell them you send them your regards."

"You do that."

"How are they treating you in here?" I asked. "You have everything you need?"

He smiled. "I do just fine, sugar. There are games to be played in here, just like out there. Though I wouldn't mind if you brought me some books next time you visit."

So, we talked about books for a little while and what he'd study if he could go back to school. I left him and rejoined Byron in the truck, feeling more confused than I had before I'd seen my dad.

***

Worthy seemed to figure out I was avoiding him, because I didn't hear from him all the next week. I was studying and taking exams and working, and I tried not to think too much about him or the wedding.

The day of the wedding was also the day I was heading home for Christmas break. I packed my bags, which Byron loaded into his truck when he arrived, and put on comfortable jeans and a sweater. I'd be changing into my maid of honor dress when I got to Betty and Leon's new house. Worthy would have to hang out with Leon and Byron while I helped Betty get ready. Yet another part of the day I hadn't really worked out. It might be kind of hard to keep an eye on Worthy and help Betty at the same time. Byron might help, but I didn't fully trust him to keep a sharp watch on Worthy.

Byron gave me a hug and headed out, since I was going to be riding to Aunt Betty's house in Roanoke with Worthy. I walked to Worthy's frat house and let myself consider what I was doing for the first time all week. My stomach twisted and I felt an overpowering urge to run. I knew everyone else was right. Bringing Worthy to the wedding was the wrong choice for so many reasons. I considered texting him and cancelling my invitation, but that was too rude, even for me.

The look on Worthy's face, when he answered the door, almost sent me running. He looked angry and hard. There was no warmth in his eyes and, though his mouth was curved up in a smile, it was a scary smile.

I wasn't a coward, so I didn't run. But I was a fighter, so I went on the defense. "You went to see my father without telling me."

He just continued to stare, and I did what I always do when confronted by a guy who's bigger and scarier than me, I threw my shoulders back and stared just as hard.

"What do you want?" he asked.

"You said you'd go to my uncle's wedding with me. It's today."

"You've been avoiding me since you asked me to go. Care to explain that?"

It was my turn to stare silently.

He bobbed his head and his scary smile deepened. "Right. See, when you invited me, I thought you'd forgiven me, and we'd be together again. I went to see your dad to make sure he was okay with us dating. I planned to talk to your uncle after the wedding. Only you didn't respond to my texts or speak to me, you avoided me at every opportunity, and I realized that I'm a fucking idiot."

"You're not an idiot," I said, my voice a whisper. Tears stung the back of my eyes.

He laughed without mirth. "No, I'm a complete and total moron for thinking you'd ever forgive me for what I did to you or ever be able to even look at the son of the man who held a gun to your head."

"I told you—"

He waved me silent. "I'm an imbecile for not seeing how much you hate me. And I don't blame you for hating me. I would hate me in your place. So, you invited me to this wedding for what? Some sort of revenge of your own? Is there even a wedding, or were you planning to take me halfway to Roanoke and drop me off in the middle of nowhere?"

"It's not like that."

"Then please, Remy, tell me what it's like. Tell me what I can do to fix this. You've made it clear you and I will never be what we once were. You've ripped my heart out of my chest, but apparently that's not enough for you, so tell me what you need to feel that your vengeance on me is complete."

"I don't want vengeance, Worthy. I just want..." But I didn't know what I wanted, and I knew that telling him anything before I was absolutely sure would only hurt him more. "I'm sorry, Worthy. I'm so sorry."

His expression softened just a tiny bit, but he squared his shoulders and hardened himself again. "Take what you need from me or leave me the hell alone. I can't handle this anymore."

"I understand," I said, my voice cracking over the last word. "I'll leave you alone."

I turned and hurried down the hall so he wouldn't see my tears. I texted Byron to let him know I'd need a ride with him after all, and I waited in front of my dorm for him to turn around and come back for me.

I stood in the cold, wrapping my coat tight around my shoulders and pretended there weren't tears streaming down my face. Pretended I hadn't just hurt one of the few people in my life who gave their friendship and time to me unconditionally. I'm not sure if I fooled any of the people walking by, but I sure as hell didn't fool myself.

"Want to talk about it," Byron asked when I climbed into his truck. Snowflakes plopped on the windshield with wet smacks. I'd always loved the snow, but today it might as well have been ashes falling from the sky, everything and everyone seemed dark and ugly, most of all myself.

"Not really."

Never one to be easily deterred, Byron forged ahead. "He figured out your nefarious scheme?"

"I don't want to talk about it, Byron." I bit out each word, trying to maintain some semblance of civilized behavior.

"Better dim the anger blaze, Sis, or you're going to ruin Dad and Betty's wedding."

Obviously he was right, which only made me more annoyed. My head started to ache right behind my eyes and my heart felt like a dead, black thing, a diseased rock in my chest. "He thought I invited him to the wedding and then blew him off for two weeks to hurt him. He actually suspected I was going to abandon him on the side of the road, rather than take him to the wedding." I wanted to cry, to release the pressure in my head and my chest.

"Well, you can be pretty scary," Byron said, with a dry chuckle.

He must have felt my glare, because he flinched without taking his eyes off the road. "But I don't think his suspicions indicate what he thinks of you, I think they indicate what he thinks of himself."

"Want to rephrase that in English, sensei?"

"Look, what I'm trying to say, grasshopper, is that you have every right to be pissed at him and he knows that. He lied by omission for months and his father tried to kill you. I know he's got some cockamamie theory that you and Uncle Leon mistook his father's intentions, but he'd have to be an idiot to really believe that, and he's not an idiot."

"My uncle killed his father. I'd say we're pretty close to even."

"So, you're not mad at him anymore?" he asked.

"Of course, I am," I said, my annoyance rising. "Or at least I was mad, but then he had to go and be all sweet and supportive when Frankie was hurt, and it reminded me of all the ways he's been there for me these past few months. Yeah, he lied to me and probably manipulated me, but he never once made me feel bad about myself, not even when he found out Leon killed his dad. It's hard to stay mad at him under those circumstances."

Byron nodded and waited, and my annoyance boiled over. "Oh, for fuck's sake, Byron, just say it."

"What I'm hearing is that he's proven himself to you repeatedly, but you still don't trust him. If you did, you wouldn't have come up with this scheme to test him at Dad's wedding."

I wanted to punch something, preferably Byron. "Maybe I don't believe he can forgive Leon so easily for killing his father. Maybe I don't want to put myself out there and get hurt when he realizes he can't handle being around me." I probably never would have uttered those words if I hadn't been so angry and annoyed, but saying them made me feel lighter somehow.

Byron nodded sagely. "Yeah, I can see that."

"And?" I really didn't understand why Byron wanted to be a lawyer, he played the head shrinker game with such aplomb and obvious enjoyment. Though, if he were my psychiatrist, one of us probably wouldn't survive, and my money was on him. Not surviving, I mean.

"You're going to have to pull your head out of your ass and get back in the game, Remington, or you're just going to keep hurting him. Either he's worth the risk or he's not. That's what you have to figure out."

I wanted to text Worthy and apologize again, but Byron was right. I needed to keep my distance until I got my head on straight.

"Look," he said. "As much as I hate repeating myself, there are no guarantees. Yeah, you two have an unusually shitty past connection, but Worthy's still here, actively trying to win you back. That says a lot."

"I can't think about this right now, By. We're going to be at Leon and Betty's new place in a couple hours and I need a major mood adjustment. Please tell me some funny stories."

Somehow, despite my protestations, all of Byron's funny stories ended up being about or involving Worthy. And while I laughed, I felt the ache I'd buried rise up and almost swallow me whole. I missed him and, on some deep level, I'd always believed we'd figure a way through it and he'd be there for me. Now, I wondered if I'd screwed up so badly, I'd lost him forever.

The snow continued all the way into Roanoke, but the temperatures were still warm enough to keep it mostly off the roads. "Is this supposed to get worse tonight?"

Byron shrugged. "I don't exactly watch the weather channel every morning."

I pulled out my phone and went online to check the weather. "Holy shit. There's like some huge storm of the century rolling in tonight." Byron glanced at me and the fact that he didn't call me out for swearing indicated how concerned he was about my weather report. "Should we call Leon and ask him if he knows?"

He wrinkled his nose and let out a long puff of air. "We can't bother him with this on his wedding day. Call Keats."

I called my cousin and tapped my nails against the passenger side window. Keats and I weren't particularly close. He'd been fourteen when I moved in with his family, and he'd been obsessed with football and girls. He was pissed at me for being the reason they had to move for about three seconds, until he made the team in West Virginia and discovered the school's 'hot cheerleaders.' At least that's how Tennyson told the story. Anyway, little eight-year-old me didn't warrant a lot of his attention or time, though he'd always been kind to me and done his part to 'toughen me up' as my cousins referred to their incessant teasing.

"Remington, shit," Keats answered. "Please tell me you're at Betty's."

"We're close. Where are you?" He was supposed to have arrived last night.

"I was there, but Dad asked me and Tennyson to drive up to the house and get his truck. He ended up having to drive the moving truck and Betty drove her car, so there was no one to get his truck."

"So, you're on your way, then?"

"We're doing the best we can, but the roads are fucked and covered with idiots."

Keats was eloquent as always. "How far out are you?"

"Just a couple of hours in normal conditions, but we're moving about thirty-five miles an hour."

"Okay, just be careful and quit talking to me. Byron and I will take care of everything until you get here."

I filled Byron in and called Barrett. "Please tell me you're almost here," he said.

"We're almost there."

He let out a long sigh of relief. "Thank fuck...wait, are you fucking with me? Are you doing that thing where you just say what I want to hear?"

Really, Barrett just made it too easy. "Barrett, sweetie," I said, putting a southern accent far more refined than my native accent. "Would I do that to you?"

"Please, Remington, I'm dying here. You need to get your asses here two hours ago."

The angst in his voice should have triggered my sympathy, but Barrett was only two years older than me and had teased me more than any of my other brothers. "We'll do our best, but the roads are an absolute mess and Byron here is nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs."

Byron motioned for me to tone it down and rolled his eyes at my drama. He knew exactly what I was doing, and he was trying to tell me how to play my own cousin. Me. The expert in tormenting Barrett.

"Remington McKinney," my uncle's voice came over the phone. "What are you saying to your brother? He looks like he's about to pass out."

I suspected Barrett was closer to a killing rage than passing out, but I knew how to play my uncle, too. "Oh, dear, I don't know what could be wrong. I was just letting him know we're about ten minutes away from your new house."

"Thank the good lord," Leon said. "Betty is about to lose it over here. Half of her people can't make it into town with the snow and the ones who live in town aren't even sure they want to risk driving in this mess."

Byron's truck slipped on the slick road and he swerved to bring it back under control. "The roads are pretty bad, Uncle Leon. We'll be there soon, and we'll get it all figured out."

I hung up with my uncle and gripped the door handle hard. "Sounds like Aunt Betty's pretty upset."

"I'd be more worried about Barrett, if I were you."

"Byron, this is serious. How far is the church and the reception hall from their house?"

"I'm not sure. But it's not going to matter. If it's farther than walking distance, we won't make it."

I squeezed the door handle tight as a car slid into our lane and back into its own within inches of hitting us. Byron didn't even flinch. I focused on the problem of my aunt's wedding to take my mind off my imminent death. "That doesn't make any sense," I said, thinking out loud.

"There's a layer of ice under the snow," Byron said. "The first snow that fell melted on the warm road, then re-froze as the temperatures dropped. Then the snow on top of all of that made everything really slick. I'm even having a hard time staying in my lane."

"Thanks, By, but I'm talking about Leon's truck. Keats and Tennyson went to get it because Leon couldn't get the U-Haul and the truck to the new house, but don't U-Haul's have tow behinds?"

He snorted. "It doesn't make sense because you aren't asking the right question."

"What?"

"The right question is what did Dad pack on the U-Haul?"

Byron pulled up in front of a cute, brick, ranch-style house and killed the engine. "Geez-us, Byron, just tell me."

"Well, Betty had most everything they'd need for the new house all ready, so Dad just packed his clothes, his guns, and the four-wheeler on the U-Haul. He used the tow behind for the snow mobiles."

I slapped my thigh and grinned. "That's the answer, Byron. We can shuttle everyone with the snow mobiles."

He smiled back. "Not everyone, but maybe the most important people."

I got out and tried to grab my bags from under the tarp in the bed of his truck, but Byron insisted on carrying everything himself. I didn't argue too hard.

I stepped inside and didn't even have a chance to check the place out before Barrett grabbed me and dragged me down the hall. "Later, I'm going to make you pay for that dirty, dirty trick you pulled on me, but right now, Betty needs you." He shoved me into a room and slammed the door behind me.

Betty was sitting in a chair with a woman standing behind her taking curlers out of her hair. Two more women sat on a king-sized bed with a lilac comforter. "Remy," Betty said. "I'm so glad you made it." She smiled, but there was an edge to her voice and her eyes were just a touch too wide.

I went over and knelt in front of her. "I'm here, Aunt Betty, and I have a plan."

Betty squeezed my face and squealed. "I knew you were a genius."

I laid out the plan of using snowmobiles to get everyone to the church, but the four women just stared at me blankly.

"Sugar," Betty said, her voice too gentle, like she was holding back a scream. "How am I going to ride on a snowmobile and not get my dress muddy and wet?" Her eyes were damp with tears and I knew I had to pull it together and be there for her, to support her on her wedding day.

I gave her my best glare and stood up so I could look down at her. "Do you remember the Vinton family credo?"

"That ridiculous nonsense you and your daddy used to sing all the time?"

I smiled at her scandalized face. "Yep. We are the family Vinton and we know what we know. We are no sheep and we do not bleat, we think and see and live for ourselves. We are the family Vinton. So, tell me, Aunt Betty, are you a Vinton or are you a sheep?"

Her chin wobbled a bit and so did my resolve. "I really just want to be a McKinney."

I breathed a sigh of relief. "Okay, then, that's a great start. Does it need to happen today, or do you want to wait until after the snowstorm?"

Betty didn't hesitate. "I've waited thirteen years for that man. I don't want to wait one more day."

Even better. "So, what you _need_ is to marry Leon today. What else do you need? _Who_ else do you need?"

She lowered her lashes and I saw a couple of tears drop. "I just need the people in this room, my mother, and Leon." She smiled up at me. "And I'd really like a cake."

"What?"

"I'd really like a cake, but the bakery just called a little bit ago and said they couldn't deliver in this weather."

I was smiling so hard I was pretty sure I looked scary rather than reassuring. "Okay, good to know. But go back just a bit. Did you say your mother?"

Betty gasped. "Oh, honey. Didn't I tell you?"

I sat down on the bed next to a woman in a leopard print jogging suit and took a swig of the wine she offered me. "I think I would have remembered you telling me I have a grandmother."

"I'm so sorry, Remy. I've just been a little pre-occupied. I told her about you, though, and she's so looking forward to meeting you."

I shook off the revelation and focused on what I needed to do there and then to help Betty. "Okay, none of that matters now. I hear what you need. Let me go see what Leon needs."

I breathed a quick sigh once I'd closed the door to Betty's room and hurried off in search of my uncle. I found Leon slumped at the table, looking like his favorite hunting dog had just died. My worthless cousins were eating chips and staring at him helplessly.

I caught their eyes and threw my hands up in the air, telepathically asking them what the what and calling them names. They turned away in embarrassment, because they knew they were falling down on the job. I sat next to Leon and patted his arm. "We're going to figure this out, Uncle Leon. I just talked to Betty and she says she wants to marry you today. All she needs is the people in this house, her mother, and a cake. What do you need?"

"I just need her," Leon said, his eyes lighting a bit. "And all of my sons. But how are we going to get married without a priest?"

"Snowmobiles," I said. I turned to my cousins. "Byron, call the priest and find out where he is and if he's willing to do the wedding here if someone picks him up on the snowmobile and brings him." Byron nodded and pulled his phone from his pocket, asking his dad for the contact information. "Barrett," I said. "Call your worthless brothers and find out how far away they are."

"What are you going to do?" Barrett asked. He tried to sneer, but he was already scrolling through contacts on his phone, so his sneer was less than effective.

"I'm going to figure out the deal with the cake."

I called the bakery, and then Barrett and I waited for Byron to finish up his call with the priest. He sat at the table and shook his head. "Okay, the priest sounds like an elderly man." He looked at Leon who nodded in affirmation. "And he lives across town. He doesn't want to drive in this, but he says if we can get to him with a snowmobile, he'll take a ride back here. How far away from here is he, Dad?"

Leon shrugged. "In good weather, it takes about fifteen minutes to get to his house next to the church, but that's with stoplights. As the crow flies it's probably just two miles."

"Okay, then we need to figure out a route to him that takes us over grass, because there's only a few inches covering the roads and sidewalks and I don't want to wreck the treads on the snowmobiles."

Leon waved a hand. "I don't care about the damn treads."

Byron rolled his eyes and smirked at me and Barrett. I thought it was kind of cute how dramatic Leon was being. "That's fine, Dad, but we need enough tread to get us to your priest and back comfortably."

Leon sighed and nodded. "Yeah, okay. Betty will know better than anyone how to get to him without using the road."

Byron stood to go find Betty, but I stopped him with a raised hand. "The bakery has the cake, but they locked up and left as soon as the snow started falling. They figured the wedding would be cancelled or postponed, so—"

"They should have called," Leon said.

"They should have," I said. I had told the bakery owner, who had the shop line forwarded to her cell, exactly what I thought of her not calling to check on the status of the wedding. She tried to say it was my fault for being crazy enough to go ahead with a wedding in the middle of a snowstorm. "But they didn't call and the owner, the only one with a key to the shop, lives about thirty minutes out of town."

Leon dropped his head in his hands and moaned.

"Remington can make the cake," Byron said.

I glared at him. "Really, Byron? Why can't you or Barrett make the cake? I'm not any better at baking than either of you."

Byron sighed like he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. "I'm going to be picking up the priest and Barrett...Barrett..."

I continued to glare at Byron.

"Barrett can't even boil water without screwing it up," Barrett said.

I turned my glare on him and he had the good sense to shut up.

"Fine," Byron said. "I was being sexist. I won't ever do it again. But you and Barrett are going to have to fight it out, because I have to go oil and gas a snowmobile."

Barrett smirked. "Wanna arm wrestle for it?"

"God," I said. "What are you? Five?"

He continued to smirk like his big biceps could take down little old me in less than a minute, but he didn't know that Byron had taught me some new tricks.

"Fine," I said. "We'll arm wrestle for it. Where are Keats and Tennyson?"

"They're still forty-five minutes out and moving slow."

"So, we'll give them two hours to get here before we start anything. Sound good?"

Barrett nodded and Byron left to go find Betty and the snowmobiles.

"Okay," I said, turning to Barrett. "How about that arm wrestle?"

Barrett snorted, but I glared at him until he realized I was serious. He put his arm on the table, and I popped my arm up there and gave him a sweet smile. "So, Barry," I said as he gripped my hand. "Seeing anybody?"

He gritted his teeth and started to push against my hand. "No talking."

I smiled and just sat there, holding my hand and arm in place as Byron had taught me, and let Barrett wear himself out trying to push my arm down. As soon as I thought he was worn out, I pushed hard against his hand. He grinned in triumph and pushed back with a force I hadn't felt before. "You think Byron never used that trick on me?"

"Oh, damn it," I said, pretending to be upset. I may have expected to win, but that didn't mean I didn't have a back-up plan. "I guess I have to make a cake and you get to help Betty get beautiful."

Barrett froze mid-victory dance. "What?"

"Well, I can't bake a cake and help Betty into her dress and run all the little errands she's going to need someone to run, can I?"

Barrett lunged at me, his face quite red.

"Barrett." Leon's voice and tone stopped my cousin. "You will not attack your cousin on my wedding day."

Barrett grunted and patted Leon on the back. Then he looked at me and snarled. "Tomorrow, sister, it's on."

I couldn't help laughing, which only annoyed Barrett more. I left him in the kitchen to figure out how to bake a cake and went to find Betty.

She was in her bedroom, laughing at something with her friends, but she stopped laughing as soon as I stepped in. "It's okay," I said. "Byron's getting the snowmobile ready to go, Barrett is working on the cake, and I'm all yours."

Betty grimaced. "Barrett is picking up the cake?"

I bit my lip not to laugh at her expression. "No. the bakery's locked up tight and the only person with a key is half an hour out. Barrett is going to make the cake."

"Oh, dear," Betty said.

One of her friends, a pretty woman with dark hair, skinny jeans and a cute slinky top, stood. "I'll go help him, Betty. Don't you worry about a thing."

"Thank you, Mary," Betty said. "How long before we start?"

"A couple of hours," I said. "What can I do?"

"Well," Betty said, tapping her chin thoughtfully.

I ended up moving the living room furniture out of the living room to make space for the ceremony. Luckily, I had Barrett to help me move the furniture, since Mary kicked him out of the kitchen because he handed her salt when she asked for sugar. After Byron returned with a red-faced, but cheerful priest, Betty sent Byron and Barrett back out to ferry some more of her friends over.

I set up what chairs we'd need for the small group of people who'd be there, and then set out the flowers the florist had delivered early that morning. My stomach started grumbling about the time I finished setting out the flowers, and I went to the kitchen to find something to eat. I found Leon and Mary arguing over a big pot of something warm and bubbly.

"Is that something to eat?" I asked, ignoring their argument about basil.

Leon smiled when he saw me, and Mary relaxed. "It's my famous chili, sweetheart. Figured all these people would want something to eat after the ceremony."

"Any chance I could eat some of it now?"

"Sure," Leon said. "But the cornbread's not ready, yet."

"That's okay," I said. "I just need something.

By the time I finished eating, Keats and Tennyson had finally arrived as had all ten of Betty's guests. I went back to Betty's room to help her get into her dress and found her already dressed, looking absolutely gorgeous and talking to an older woman with white hair, a svelte figure, and wearing a beautiful burgundy dress. Betty had tears in her eyes, and I started to step back outside, so as not to disturb them. Betty spotted me before I got all the way out of the room.

"Oh, Remy, come in. This is your grandmother."

The older woman turned to me and smiled. She had Betty's eyes, my eyes, but she had my father's complicated, charismatic smile. She stepped toward me, hands out, and I involuntarily took a step back. Something wasn't right, but I couldn't remember...then I did remember. I remembered her face, younger, screaming at me and so, so angry. "You hated me."

The woman's smile faltered, and she dropped her hands and stepped back. "Yes, Remy, I did hate you for a time, and I was cruel to you and to your father. I'm sorry for that. There is no excuse for it. I was selfish and I was angry, and I took it out on a little girl who didn't deserve it. Can you ever forgive me?"

"Why?" I asked.

Her shoulders slumped and she took another step back, as though giving up on me already. It was a weakness I didn't recognize. My father never backed down from a challenge. My uncle and cousins never backed down. I never...but then I remembered that I had backed down. I'd backed down from Worthy, because I cared too much and I suspected he could hurt me. He could walk away from me as my father had done. Even when he'd kept me with him, my father had chosen his games, his crimes, over me and my needs. I'd been abandoned and neglected by him, because he chose not to see me and the harm he was doing me. On some level, I'd feared that Worthy would choose answers and his need for revenge over me. I'd backed down from Worthy to avoid being hurt.

I suspected my grandmother had also been hurt by my father and she wasn't backing down because she lacked the backbone, but because she feared me hurting her. Understanding this, I softened toward her just a bit.

"I did hate you," she said. "I blamed you for all the trouble Eunice got into. When he married, I blamed his wife. I figured she demanded a fancy house and fine things and he had to turn to crime to afford those things for her. When she died, I couldn't blame her anymore so I blamed you. I was so determined not to see how I'd spoiled my son, how I'd taught him to be the man he'd become. When you left us and he didn't change, I had to look myself in the mirror and accept what I'd done."

No, this wasn't a woman who backed down from anything. "I don't think it was all your fault," I said. "I don't think my father would blame you."

She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "I haven't quite gotten up the nerve to visit him in that place," she said. "But I'd like to have a relationship with you, if you'd let me. I'd like to make up for my past mistakes."

I stepped closer to her. "I'd like that."

She hugged me and then held me at arm's length and studied me. "So like your mother. I wish your grandfather could have seen you, but he passed on two years ago." She gave me a watery smile. "He'd have so loved to know you." As soon as she mentioned my grandfather, I remembered him. He'd been a quiet man, who smelled like cigars and peppermint. My grandmother gave me one more hug, wiped her eyes, and turned to her daughter. "Today, we need to get my daughter married. What do you need from us, dear?"

Betty smiled and tears shone in her eyes. "I don't need anything more than what I have."

***

Betty and Leon were married in their living room, among their friends and family, while a snowstorm raged outside, and we all prayed the electricity stayed on long enough to get us through the service. It didn't. The lights went out as Betty was walking across the room to Leon. So, we lit all the candles I'd pulled out earlier and Keats and Byron got a fire blazing in the fireplace. Betty and Leon were married by candlelight, the only music the whistling of the wind outside.

Everyone looks more beautiful by candlelight, and Betty looked like an angel. Leon was happier than I'd ever seen him before and the way the two of them looked at each other made my heart flip with hope that someone would look at me that way someday.

Once they were married, the party started. We ate chili and cake and Leon dug out some marshmallows that we roasted over the fire. The priest stayed for dinner, but then Byron and Barrett ferried him and the other guests back to their homes, until the only ones left were me, Betty, Leon, and my four cousins.

"So, where are you going on your honeymoon?" I asked, once everyone was together again and the furniture was back in place in the living room.

"Well," Betty said. "We wanted to be here for Christmas with all of you kids, so we've decided to take our honeymoon in February. We're going to Key West."

"That sounds wonderful," I said.

Leon, who hadn't been out of touching distance of Betty since the ceremony, wrapped an arm around her and squeezed her tight. "Anywhere is a honeymoon if Betty's with me."

Byron shot me a look like he thought Leon had lost his mind, but I couldn't help melting a little bit. I may have grown up with five of the most unromantic men in the world, but I was finding that I had more than a few romantic bones in my body.

Betty met my eyes and the joy in hers made me tear up.

"Remy," she said. "Where's that boy you're dating?"

I froze for a moment, shocked by the question. With the snowstorm and the wedding, I hadn't forgotten about Worthy, but I'd pushed him to the back of my mind, where he was just a fuzzy reminder of hurt and mistakes. I forced my smile back into place. "We broke up."

Betty nodded. "Is that because he's Arle's son?"

"Partly." I didn't know how much Leon had told Betty about Worthy and his manipulation of me and Byron, and I didn't want to say anything bad about him if she didn't know.

Leon frowned. "If Arle were still alive, he'd have been thrilled at the thought of our Remington and his Lawrence getting together. If he'd had the chance, he'd have asked me to look out for his family. I couldn't do that when they lived so far away from us, but I feel I ought to look out for him and his brothers if I can, now that I'll be living so close."

"Yeah, he's good people," I heard myself saying. "He's just not the right person for me."

Leon nodded and the conversation moved on to other topics. Keats' new job in the big city, Tennyson's new dog, Barrett's latest weird date, Byron's coursework and social life, and my friends.

Betty came to see me that night when I was in bed watching a movie on my laptop and thinking about going to sleep soon. I paused the movie and she sat on the edge of the bed and patted my feet. "There are no secrets between your Uncle Leon and myself. I know what Lawrence did, and I'm worried about you, Remy."

I sat up and hugged her. "I'm fine, Aunt Betty."

"Oh, I know, sweetheart. It's just this inability to trust Lawrence. Do you think it's because of your daddy?"

Her words re-opened the hurt I'd been trying to ignore. "I think anyone would have difficulty trusting a guy who failed to admit he was the son of the man who tried to kill her."

"You may not realize it, Remy, but you can be intimidating."

I snorted. Not realize it? I made a concerted effort to be intimidating.

She ignored my snort. "If he cared about you as much as I believe he does, he was probably scared to tell you the truth."

"If he was scared, he's not the right guy for me."

Betty nodded and the knowing look in her eye annoyed me just a little. "And you're never afraid of anything are you, Remy? No one is going to live up to your high standards at that rate and life is very long lived alone."

"How did you do it?" I asked, wanting to change the subject. "How did you wait for Leon so long?"

She smiled and pulled her legs up under her. "I didn't wait for him, really. I dated other people and I hoped that someday I'd see him again. I didn't like anyone as much as I liked him and, knowing he was out there and there was a chance we'd be together again, I couldn't settle for anyone less than him." She smiled to herself, happy and contented. "Of course, we kept in touch. We talked about once a week, when he could get a call in without you noticing. He didn't want my name to trigger a memory for you." She sighed. "Talking to him helped. I feel like I know him better now than I did before he left."

"I'm so happy for you," I said. "I'm sorry you had to be apart because of me."

She ran a hand down my cheek. "Being with Leon wouldn't mean as much to me if I had to see you still living in your daddy's world or worse. Seeing you here healthy and happy and with the world at your feet is worth every sacrifice Leon and I had to make."

I was so lucky to have Leon and Betty in my life, so lucky to have two strong, well-adjusted people who supported me and cheered for me. "And it won't hurt you if I'm friends with Worthy?" I asked, beginning to think I might like to be a whole lot more than friends with Worthy, if he'd ever forgive me. He'd stood by me through so much, and I wasn't going to turn my back on that. Well, not again, anyway.

"I didn't know Worthy's father very well, but Leon tells me he was a decent man who made some bad choices. If I can forgive my brother, I guess I can forgive him. Worthy is not to be held responsible for his father's choices, any more than Leon and I would hold you responsible for your daddy's choices."

I sucked in a breath, realizing again how lucky I was, how different my life might have been if Leon had hated me for what my father had done. Arle might have been easily led, but it had been my father who'd led him into drugs and crime. In a roundabout way, it was my father's fault that Leon had to pull the trigger and put a bullet in his best friend. I couldn't even imagine the pain and guilt Leon had to live with because of my father and, yet, Leon was still here, looking out for Eunice's daughter and marrying Eunice's sister. Leon was either very strong or very stupid, and I knew he wasn't stupid. "I'm going to do everything I can to make sure you don't regret that decision."

"You've already done more than enough to ensure that," she said. "Now, go to sleep. I'm going to spend some alone time with my new husband."

I couldn't help my smile, even as I blanked my mind of any pictures that might want to jump in there of my uncle and aunt in a compromising position. "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," I said, rolling over and tucking in.

Betty huffed. "I didn't mean—"

I laughed. "Good night, Aunt Betty. Congratulations."

She kissed my cheek and left. I sighed and sank into the mattress, so glad to be the only girl in the family. While my cousins were all camped out in the den, trying to sleep through each other's snores, I got the only guest room. As I drifted off to sleep, I thought of Worthy, and wished I wasn't quite so alone.

***

I woke up the next morning, shivering. The house was small, so the woodstove in the den had kept the house pretty warm for most of the night. The guys must have let the fire go out while they slept, and the cold had sunk in. I blew a breath and couldn't see it, but my nose was cold enough to make me sure I didn't want to leave my bed.

"Help," I yelled. Then I waited. "Help me!" I yelled again. In a house full of overprotective men, I figured at least one of them would come running in, but no one did. Then I heard the faint sound of voices from the direction of the den. "Help, help, help," I yelled louder.

I heard laughter. Damn it, my plan wasn't working. "Help me or I'm going to kick someone's ass," I shouted.

Nothing. Ugh, seriously? "Fine," I shouted. "Help me or I'm not making pancakes this morning." I couldn't cook much, but I could make some damn fine pancakes.

"There's no power," one of the guys shouted back.

Shit damn, I'd forgotten about that. I pulled out my final stop. I didn't like to use it often, but desperate times and all that. I pretended to cry. I actually had to wail to make the sound carry all the way to the den, but I hoped it would still work. I'd gotten pretty good at the fake cry over the years. I'd never cry for real, but fake crying I could do.

Aunt Betty poked her head in the door. "Everything okay, honey," she asked, but she was smiling. Clearly the wailing was less effective than my fake crying. Betty was dressed in jeans and enough sweaters to look like she was swollen. She had on a hat and gloves, too.

"I'm cold," I said. "I want one of those big lugs to carry me to the den wrapped up in my blankets, so I can sit next to the wood stove." They used to do it for me when I was little, and I was feeling nostalgic, and colder than I'd been in a really long time. At Leon's house we had a back-up generator.

"I'll go ask them," she said.

"Tell them I'll...Tell them they'd better or I'll post embarrassing pictures of them on Instagram."

Betty laughed. "Threats are usually more effective than favors with this lot, aren't they?"

"Yep."

Keats showed up at my door a few minutes later. He was in jeans and a sweatshirt like it wasn't cold. "When you'd become such a wimp, Remington?"

He could call me any names he wanted as long as he didn't make me step out into the cold. "I went to bed in a t-shirt, Keats. I'll freeze to death if I get out of this bed." I batted my eyelashes and tried to look pathetic.

Keats' eyes widened. "You're naked under there?" He shook his head. "I'm not getting anywhere near you." He spun and left in a hurry, but his smile let me know he was enjoying my pain way too much.

"Come on," I yelled after him. "Please..." I drew the word out like a little kid, making it ten, fifteen, twenty syllables.

I heard feet in the hallway and I squirmed with relief. Only it wasn't Keats, easy, pushover Keats back to carry me to warmth, it was Barrett, with a malicious grin.

"Help," I yelled. "Byron! Keats! Barrett is going to kill me!" Nothing. Barrett rubbed his hands together and snickered. "I'm going to kick you all in the testicles if you don't help me." More nothing. Useless. Men were completely useless.

"Keats says you're naked under there," Barrett said, practically bouncing with glee.

"Keats doesn't know what he's talking about." But I was a terrible liar and Barrett knew it.

He tiptoed into the room, his movements exaggerated, making a big show of how he was going to get back at me. "Poor, poor Remington, trapped under the blankets. At the mercy of her dear, sweet cousin Barrett."

"I'm sorry, Barrett," I said, trying to look repentant. "I didn't mean it."

He shook his head and moved to my duffel bag, unzipping it with a flourish. "I'm not falling for the poor, little girl act again. Not this time."

I couldn't help smiling to myself at the memory of the last time he'd fallen for my poor, little girl act. Unfortunately, he caught my smile and he returned to searching my bag with renewed vigor.

The situation was getting desperate. I was going to have to woman up. I pushed the covers back and leapt from the bed. I landed in the spot where Barrett had been just as he disappeared out the door with what appeared to be every electronic device I owned. I pulled on sweatpants, two sweatshirts, and three pairs of socks, and went for help.

I ran right past my cousins in the den to find Leon in the kitchen looking for a pan he could use to cook bacon on the wood stove. Betty was shaking her head at every pan Leon held up.

"Uncle Leon," I said, sniffling a bit for effect. "Barrett took my laptop and my phone, and I have school work I need to do."

Leon hardly paused. "You all are adults now. I'm pretty sure you can work it out amongst yourselves."

I deflated just a bit, but I wasn't a quitter. "But he's bigger than me," I said, putting a bit of a whimper into my voice.

Leon held up another pan and raised an eyebrow at me.

I could see I was getting no help from that quarter, so I huffed into the living room and collapsed on the couch next to Byron. I glared at Barrett and he shifted a bit, but didn't look my way. Coward.

Now warm, my thoughts couldn't be distracted for too long from Worthy. I tried planning my revenge on Barrett, but all I could think about was how big an apology I owed Worthy.

I punched Byron on the knee. "Is Worthy back in town?" I asked. I knew Worthy's mom and brothers still lived in Roanoke, and I figured he'd be visiting them for the holiday at some point.

"What do I look like, his keeper?" Byron asked. "You want to know where he is, you can call him."

Barrett snickered, but looked away when I turned my glare on him.

"As you know, my phone was stolen by your Neanderthal brother, so maybe you could give him a ring and find out."

"So, you can hurt him some more?" he asked, his righteous indignation so thick I almost gagged on it.

"No, so I can beg his forgiveness," I said. The room went still as all of my cousins froze and stared at me with wide eyes. Apologies were not something they heard from me often...or ever. "I'm serious."

Byron nodded. "I'll call him, but not until a decent hour."

I looked at the clock on the mantle. "It's after ten. Has he become a late sleeper since we were dating?"

Byron suddenly found his hands fascinating.

"By? What is it?"

He shook his head. "He had plans last night. He stayed at school to take some girl out. If it went well, I don't—"

"I got it." I tried not to openly wince, but judging by the way my cousins were looking at me with pity in their eyes, I failed. The thought of Worthy with some other girl hurt. It hurt way more than I'd expected.

"We need to kick someone's ass?" Tennyson asked in that quiet voice of his that could be scarier than all the others yelling.

"No," I said. "If anyone deserves an ass-kicking it's me."

"Wow," Barrett said, with a golf clap. "I almost feel sorry for you, Remington."

"Sorry enough to give me my stuff back?"

He grinned. "Nope. You're going to have to earn it back."

"And how am I supposed to do that, Barrett?"

He rubbed his hands together like an evil dictator. "You'll be my slave for the day."

I groaned and dropped my head back on the couch. "Forget it, I'll just buy new stuff."

My cousins and I spent the day playing in the snow like we were little kids. We built a snow man and shoveled the driveway. We had a snowball fight and made snow angels. We didn't know Roanoke, but when we saw one of the neighbor kids coming home with a sled, we asked him where he'd been. Byron and Barrett went to the store and came back with sleds for all of us. We spent the afternoon sledding and laughing like lunatics. Through it all, I was Barrett's bitch, carrying his sled, being on his team for the snowball fight, doing his share of the shoveling.

We stumbled back to Betty's house as the sun was setting. I was cold and starving and laughing so hard my sides and my cheeks ached. Byron pushed me into a snowdrift and ran inside, my cousins on his heels. I pulled myself out of the snow, but I was covered in it. It was cold against my skin, up my pants leg and inside my shoe, I'd even gotten some up my coat and under my shirt. I took my hat off and shook the snow off, sure I looked like a cross between a wet dog and the abominable snowman. I'd have to change for the third time that day, but at least I'd get a warm shower, judging by the lights shining from inside Betty's house. I started toward the light and the promise of the warmth.

"Remy?"

I turned and saw Worthy standing at the end of the driveway, dry and warm in a thick Carhartt jacket and a knit cap that covered his hair and made him look older somehow. "Worthy?" I said. "What are you—"

"There he is," Byron bellowed, bounding onto the porch. "Come on in, Worthy."

"Byron invited me," Worthy said.

"And you thought that was a good idea?" But Worthy didn't answer, didn't even look at me, just strode to the porch and gave Byron a one-armed hug. Apparently, I was the only one who found this weird and, for the first time with my family, I felt like the odd one out.

Worthy had come over to loan Byron a video game. At least that's what Byron told us all over dinner. To which Worthy was invited. An invitation he accepted. He barely looked at me, and I couldn't stop looking at him, or wondering about the girl he'd gone out with the night before. I knew I should find an opportunity to apologize, that he still deserved an apology, even if he was dating someone else, but Worthy seemed to be constantly surrounded by my family. They all loved him, and Leon and Betty wanted to know all about his mother and his brothers. It was like they'd been struck with amnesia and forgotten that he'd used me and Byron, that Leon had killed Worthy's father.

When Worthy offered to wash the dishes after dinner, I volunteered to help him. Of course, Barrett chose that moment, the moment I'd finally almost gotten Worthy alone, to grab me and pull me aside.

"Do you really think this is a good idea?"

I stuck my nose in the air. "I'm not speaking to you until you give back my stuff."

Barrett, anticipating my demand, pulled my cell phone out of his pocket and handed it to me. "You should check your texts." Then he vanished without another word.

I usually love to do the opposite of what my cousins tell me to do, just to piss them off, but something in Barrett's expression made me take him seriously. I unlocked my phone and found it, halfway down the list of texts from Bell and Frankie and Harrison.

Worthy: Don't worry about what I said earlier. I was upset. We're all good. I'm seeing someone else and I won't bother you again.

My heart lurched and I swallowed hard to keep my dinner from coming back up. His date apparently went really well, because he was already "seeing" her. I was too late. I considered running back to my room and pretending I'd forgotten about washing the dishes, but I couldn't hide from Worthy forever.

I watched him for a long moment, drinking in his solid, muscular form as he rinsed dishes and slid them into the dishwasher and started scrubbing pans. He was so intent on what he was doing, he didn't seem to register my presence when I stepped up next to him and started drying the first of the pans he'd washed.

"I'm sorry." I gave him a moment to acknowledge me or look at me, but he didn't. "I invited you to Betty and Leon's wedding for the wrong reasons, but they weren't the reasons you think."

He finally looked at me, his expression veiled, his face giving nothing away. "It doesn't matter, now, okay. Can we just move on? Unless there's still something you want from me?"

The way he tried to write off my apology, write me off, made me mad. I'm not saying I didn't deserve being written off, but my temper is rarely rational. "Yeah, Worthy, there is still something I want from you. I want you to get over yourself and listen to me for a minute."

He dropped the pan he'd been washing into the dishwater with a sudsy splash and glared at me. He was angry, too, and about ready to walk out, if I knew him at all, but he gestured for me to go on.

"For the record," I said, knowing that doing anything less than putting everything out on the table would be the same as saying nothing. "I don't hate you. I've never hated you. I don't blame you for anything your father did, and I never did. My only issue was that you lied to me and used me to get information about your father."

"That's not—" he started, his cheeks red.

I held up one hand. "It doesn't matter," I said. "Because even if you were only sticking with me to get information about your father, you also supported me. You were the rock I needed to get through everything. For that, I'm grateful you didn't tell me sooner who your father was, and I'm amazed you were able to look me in the eyes and be kind to me, even when you found out my uncle killed your father. I invited you to the wedding, because I thought you must still want revenge on my family. I invited you to test you, to find out if I could trust you, and I get now that was wrong."

Pain flashed across his face, but he tucked it quickly away. "You should have trusted me without a test."

"I know."

"Everything I did, everything we'd been through should have been enough. There's no way I could have done more for you or given more of myself than I did. I gave you..." he shut his mouth hard, and I knew from his stony expression that he was done giving me anything.

"I know," I said. "For what it's worth, I trust you now."

"After I've been here with your family and managed to restrain my bloodthirsty need for revenge?" he said. "No, it's too late." He dried his hands on the towel I held in my hands without making eye contact. "I need to go. Thank your Aunt for me and tell her I...just tell her thank you and congratulations, again."

He walked out, and I stood there, desperately trying to think of something to say to change his mind and knowing I'd lost my chance. I finished up the dishes, passed Worthy's well wishes onto my aunt and went back to my room. I got undressed and snuggled down under the covers, wishing for a way to turn back time, and undo the hurt I'd caused Worthy.

### CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The roads were mostly clear of snow the next day, when Keats, Tennyson, and Barrett left and headed back to their respective homes. The temperatures were up in the forties and the snow was melting all around us, making it sound like it was raining.

"I put your stuff on your bed," Barrett said, as he hugged me goodbye. He'd been extra nice to me since he'd given my phone back and warned me about the text from Worthy. I almost wished he'd teased me about it, because that would mean he thought the whole thing was silly and I was fine. Since there was no teasing, I knew he was hurting for me, and I hated it. Tennyson and Keats hugged me and promised to see me at Christmas. Then they all left and it was just me, Byron, Betty, and Leon in the driveway, watching them go.

We all went inside, but Betty and Leon went into their room and it was just me and Byron in the living room. I didn't think Leon and Betty were doing anything that would make me blush or gag, but the house was small and there weren't a whole lot of options for them to be alone together.

"So," I said, slapping Byron on the knee. I needed a distraction so I could stop thinking about Worthy and checking my phone every five minutes to see if he'd texted to accept my apology. "Wanna watch a movie?"

Byron stared at the plush carpet under his feet. "Sure, for a little while. I'm meeting up with some friends in a bit."

"And by friends you mean Worthy."

He bristled. "He's still my friend, Remington. I'm sorry things didn't work out between you two, but you can't expect me to write him off, too."

"I didn't write him off," I said, but my voice felt small. Even I didn't really believe that.

He gave me a look that said I was wasting his time pretending to lie, but he didn't call me out on it. "He's not very tight with his family and he hates it here, hates the city, hates his neighborhood. We're going to drive to the mountains and go for an afternoon ski."

Ski? I loved to ski. At least, I'd always wanted to try it, but Leon hadn't exactly had the money to take five kids skiing. Byron had worked in high school and earned the money to ski when he could. I'd had no opportunity to earn money or to leave the house. "It's okay," I said. "I'll figure out something to do." I'd spent plenty of time alone at my uncle's house, but there I'd had the woods and the mountains to play in and I hadn't had a taste of freedom. I hadn't really known what I was missing. Now that I had, I could feel the boredom pulling me down.

"Maybe you could get a job at Dad's place," he said.

Leon had sold his shop in West Virginia, but he didn't have the money, yet, to buy a new one, so he was working for somebody else. I'd never had an interest in cars, beyond changing the oil and the tires, which Leon had forced me to learn. "I don't think so."

He shrugged and we picked a movie, but I didn't really pay attention. I saw the next few weeks stretching out before me and tried to think of ways to fill the time. I realized that getting a job was my only option. I wasn't going to sit around the house and do nothing when I could be earning money to help Leon pay for my tuition and my expenses.

After Byron left, I went on-line and cruised the want ads. I put together a resume, then I took my list of possible jobs, borrowed Leon's truck, and went out to find work.

I started with the mall, but I got a whole lot of nothing. Everyone had already hired on their Christmas help. I wasn't familiar with Roanoke and had no idea where I was going, even with my phone and my GPS. I stopped everywhere I thought I might find work, except the fast food joints, but I found nothing.

As the sun started to set, I stopped at a Christmas tree lot, not expecting to get any further than I had anywhere else. An elderly man stood by the gate and smiled at me warmly as I walked up. I got all kinds of good feelings, but he turned me down, too. Defeated, exhausted, and hungry, I went home to dinner with my family.

"Remy," Betty said over spaghetti and meatballs that night. "You should have just asked me. I'll call around and see if anyone I know needs help over the holidays."

"Thank you," I said, without much hope. Aunt Betty pulled through, though. One of her friends owned a boutique that sold vintage clothes, costume jewelry, and kitschy knick-knacks. Business had been better than she'd expected over the past few months, and she found she actually could use help over the holidays. I started working the next day.

Working at the shop was hardly exhilarating, but it kept me occupied and the Christmas break flew by in a dream-like swirl of fake gems and swishy fabrics and cozy evenings with Byron and my aunt and uncle. I stopped checking my phone for messages from Worthy, but I didn't stop thinking about him. Christmas Eve arrived before I was ready and Barrett, Keats, and Tennyson plowed into the house, all good cheer and laughter.

By the time I got back to school, I thought I was over Worthy, that I could see him with another girl and be okay. I'd even convinced myself it was for the best. I'd only been out in the world for a few months, and there was a wide world of guys I needed to date and kiss and have fun with. I wasn't ready to settle down and get serious about one guy before I'd even really started. Those were the things I told myself over and over, preparing myself, convincing myself.

When I stepped into the common area of my suite, I saw Worthy on the couch, a steaming cup of coffee in his hand and a wrapped gift next to him. I froze and all my good intentions, all my resolutions, evaporated like the steam from his coffee. My heart stuck in my chest as the reality struck me. Worthy's new girl was one of my suitemates, one of my friends, possibly. It couldn't be Bell, she'd have told me. I'd talked to her a few times over the break and she'd told me tales of hooking up with some guy she met at her holiday job, but nothing about a new boyfriend. Still, it had to be someone who lived near me, someone I'd see him with all the time. What if I walked in and found them making out on the couch? I couldn't do it. I'd have to find somewhere else to live. I backed up, with no plan of what I'd do with my bags or where'd I'd go, but Worthy looked up and smiled, his amber eyes darkening, and I was caught.

"Um, hi," I said. I waddled in with my bags and tried to move quickly past him. "I hope you had a good Christmas."

He nodded, but he didn't say a word. I made it to my door and was fumbling for the key when he said my name.

The key hit the linoleum with a clatter and I bent to pick it up, ignoring him. I didn't want to hear about his new girl or how he'd make sure he kept his distance or whatever he might be planning to say. I fit the key in the lock and pushed the door open. I threw my bags and myself into the room and started to close the door, but Worthy was there, blocking my path.

I prided myself on not being afraid of anything, but in that moment I feared Worthy. Not because I thought he'd physically hurt me, but because I thought he might just reach into my chest and squash my heart beyond recognition.

He wasn't smiling any longer. "I'm sorry," he said. "I should have brought this to your house, but I wanted to give it to you alone." He shoved the big, wrapped package at me and I took a step back, my hands raised.

"What is it? A bomb?" I was trying to be funny, to lighten the mood, but I was also trying to cover my confusion, because I couldn't imagine a scenario in which Worthy would give me a nice present.

He didn't laugh. He took another step inside. "Just open it." I swallowed against my natural instinct to argue with any and every direct order I'm given, and I took the package. I sat on my bed and opened it.

Inside was a framed picture. It was a candid shot of a little girl with blonde hair and a little boy with dark curls and brown eyes. We were outside, in t-shirts and shorts, and we were laughing, our eyes on each other, sharing a happy moment. Behind us stood two men, beers in their hands and smiles on their faces. It was my dad and Arle Stanley.

"I wonder what we were laughing about?" I said, my voice cracking, tears burning my eyes.

"I don't think it matters," he said. "What matters is that we were happy. That's what I want to remember about our past."

I looked at him, not fighting the tears streaming down my cheeks. "Thank you."

"I'm sorry. When you apologized, I was still so angry and hurt, I couldn't...I talked to my mom while I was home. She still won't tell me the truth about my dad, but my aunt...what she said backs up your story." He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head. "I'm screwing this up. What I'm trying to say is that I'm sorry it took me so long, but I accept your apology and I want to..." He sat on my bed next to me. "I want to give us another chance, because I love you, and I hate not seeing you and talking to you and just being with you every day. I miss you so much it hurts."

My heart was beating so fast I wasn't sure I'd be able to talk. "What about the girl you're seeing?"

He looked at the floor and shook his head. "I may have exaggerated a little bit." He met my eyes and gave me a sheepish smile. "And by exaggerated, I mean I made the whole thing up."

I knew I should be upset, but I was just so happy that he was there and he wanted to be with me, that I couldn't make myself care. "I'm willing to try being your girlfriend again, under one condition, no more lies and no more secrets."

"In that case," he said. "I feel I should tell you that your cousin Barrett swore he'd hunt me down and tear out my intestines if I ever came near you—"

"I can handle Barrett," I said.

"That's good, because he's—"

I grabbed his shirt and pulled him toward me and kissed him until I forgot what he'd been talking about. He wrapped his arms around me and kissed me back, and everything was just the way it should be. I was back where I should have been all along.

WHAT'S NEXT?

The next book in the Maple Ridge series, _Francesca's Slumber_ , tells Frankie's story. After her dreadful relationship with Duran, she decides she needs to toughen up and learn how to go after what she wants, instead of hanging back and waiting for it to come to her. She goes to Bell for lessons in how to be tough and finds Harrison an unlikely ally in her quest. _Francesca's Slumber_ is available now at Amazon. Visit my website to find out more about my books: <http://www.KatharineSadler.com/>

TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK

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### ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Katharine Sadler lives with her husband in North Carolina. She's been writing since she was ten and has wanted to be a writer even longer. When she's not writing or otherwise gainfully occupied, she reads like it's an addiction, exercises, skis whenever she gets the chance, and adds more books to her Amazon wish list.

OTHER WORKS BY KATHARINE SADLER

The Reapers (5 book series)

The Reaping (Reapers 1)

On a White Horse (Reapers 1.5)

The Revolt (Reapers 2)

The Rift (Reapers 3)

Switch (Reapers 3.5)

The Resonance (Reapers 4)

The Resistance (Reapers 5)

The Reapers Series Box Set

Dying Dreams (Trilogy)

Dying Dreams (Dying Dreams 1)

Dying Innocence (Dying Dreams 2)

Fairy Files (6 book series)

Fairy on the Rocks (Fairy Files 1)

Pink Princess Fairytini (Fairy Files 2)

Fairy with a Twist (Fairy Files 3)

Wild Fairy Moonshine (Fairy Files 4)

Bloody Fairy (Fairy Files 5)

Fairy Neat (Fairy Files 6)

Maple Ridge

Remington's Tower (Maple Ridge #1)

Francesca's Slumber (Maple Ridge #2)

Lizabell's Gamble (Maple Ridge #3)

Catalpa Creek

The Deadbeat Next Door (Catalpa Creek #1)

The Workaholic Down the Hall (Catalpa Creek #2)

The Good Guy on My Porch (Catalpa Creek #3)

The Ice Queen in the Corner Office (Catalpa Creek #4)

The Poet in the Driver's Seat (Catalpa Creek #5) Fall 2020

Vegas Nights

How to Lasso a Billionaire (Vegas Billionaires #1)

How to Nail a Stud (Vegas Billionaires #2) Summer 2020

**I'** **D LOVE TO HEAR FROM YOU**

You can chat with me at:

www.KatharineSadler.com

www.Facebook.com/KatharineGSadler

www.Twitter.com/KatharineSadler

www.pinterest.com/AuthorKSadler

### ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Thank you to my family for their unfailing support. And a big thank you to my husband/business manager for making sure I keep my priorities straight and keep writing and editing and publishing, even on the days I'd rather spend curled on the couch reading a good book. Thank you to my friend and beta reader Becky Kyslinger for cheering me on and loving my books, and for letting me know when something isn't working for her. Thank you to www.CoverYourDreams.net for the gorgeous cover on this and all of my books.
