Starlee's Home (The Wayward Sons 3)

“Yes,” she says quietly. “We’re clear.”

Using my poles, I angle my skis and push off, taking the first hill fast, burning through all the excess anger I held back during the last fifteen minutes. I never wanted to go to this place with Christina but there’s only so much a guy can take. It’s one thing for her to mess with me. It’s something else entirely when she comes after my family.

15

Starlee

After the boys vanish back to the higher slopes, Charlie and I ski over to the intermediate lift together. Honestly, I’m surprised that he likes to ski—he’s not into outdoor activities.

“I hated it at first,” he confesses on the lift, “but you know how Sierra is about exercise. I didn’t have much choice and once I got the hang of it, I started to like it better. It’s quiet up here and the lift rides are peaceful. It gives my brain time to reset.”

“I can see that,” I say. “I’ve already noticed that skiing is definitely a solo sport. I have to concentrate on myself, not anyone else, and that’s hard for me. For so long I only worried about myself and my mom. My world was small. Then I came up here and it was information overload. So many new things, new sights and sounds.” I look over at him. “I had to make space for all of you in my head.”

And my heart.

“Space. That’s a good way to put it.”

We get to the end of the ride, and I’m a little more stable on my dismount. Charlie waits for me but once we start down the hill, we respect each other’s quiet. Days like this help me understand these boys so much more. They’re so different in their approaches to life and it makes me feel better about what’s going on at home right now. As we make our way down to the bottom, over bumps and curves and dodging other skiers, I’m certain that we’ll get through all of this in one piece. We just have to keep our focus on the end of the trail.

We go up and down a few more times and I feel like I’m getting the hang of it. We take a short break down at the bottom and I see a flash of pink in the distance. Christina’s coming off the slope alone, her expression upset.

“What’s going on with that?” I ask, Charlie, pointing at her as she struggles with her equipment.

“It could be anything,” he says, but we both saw Claire and Jake talking earlier. He’d looked intent. “But maybe Jake finally got the balls to tell her to get off.”

A part of me feels sorry for this girl. I know I shouldn’t, but she’s weak. She struggles, and her only leverage of power is from manipulating the people she used to call friends. It’s sad.

“Ready to go back up?” Charlie asks.

“I think I can go a few more times before my legs stop functioning.”

Sierra’s right about one thing. Exercise and fresh air are good for getting your mind off problems and people and all the real-life stuff bringing you down.

16

Dexter

It’s clear by the time I reach the lower-level trails that afternoon that Starlee is exhausted. I lead her over to a bench and she says, “My arms and legs are killing me. Especially my calves.”

“Skiing is hard, especially the first few times.”

“I’ll wait down here—you go back out.”

“Not a chance,” I tell her, reaching down to unbuckle her boots. “I can drive you back early.”

“Leelee’s car is at Claire’s.”

I think for a minute. “We’ll go get it. The guys can bring back the Jeep.”

Hoisting her skis over my shoulder, we walk back down to the parking lot, the gravel road slushy and muddy. She grimaces with every step, grumbling about the pain. I load her equipment back on Claire’s SUV and then we head to the Jeep.

Once the vehicle warms up she starts peeling off layers and I do the same, shedding my jacket and sweater, tossing them in the back. She’s wearing a tight, hot pink thermal shirt that clings to her body.

“Did you have fun?”

“I really did,” she says leaning against the door. Her cheeks are red with either wind or sunburn. “Thank you for taking such good care of me.”

“You know it’s never a question.”