As the car moves closer, I catch sight of the boy in the driver’s seat and the one beside hi
m in the passenger seat. Coppery brown hair and features so similar they’re nearly identical draw my gaze as something in my chest unwinds, the tension finally leaving me.
Dax and Chase.
They’re here.
3
I fumble for the door handle before realizing that I was right earlier—this door definitely isn’t going to open. It’s not too horribly banged up, but the metal bent just enough to keep the door wedged closed.
“Ah, having a little trouble. That’s all right.”
Walt clucks his tongue and opens his door, heaving himself out of the car. He’s not a big man, but his joints don’t seem to work as well as they probably once did.
Once out, he turns back to face me, holding out a hand. “Come on, now. This way.”
I pull my legs up from under the steering wheel and crawl over the center console, fighting off a slight wave of dizziness as I do. The car is in worse shape than I am, but that’s not to say I feel great. I’ll be sore as hell tomorrow.
Walt wraps an arm around me and helps me to my feet as I clamber awkwardly out of the car. Two heavy thuds fill the quiet, snow muffled street as the twins slam their car doors, and then Dax’s voice cuts across the space.
“Hey!”
There’s something vaguely threatening in his tone, and I’m obviously not the only one who hears it, because Walt blushes, holding me steady as he steps back. Once he’s sure I won’t fall over, he removes his hands from me entirely.
A few seconds later, Dax and Chase reach us, and I’m pulled into their embrace and wrapped up in two strong sets of arms. Lips brush my hair, and they squeeze me so tight it’s hard to breathe.
“Jesus, Low. What the fuck happened?” Dax mutters, his breath warm on my chilled skin.
“Well, I… I can see you’re taken care of here, Miss.”
I glance over Chase’s shoulder to see Walt staring at the three of us with a bemused expression. He’s probably trying to figure out which one of these boys I’m with, or whether we’re all just friends, or if they’re my brothers or something—not that we look anything alike.
Despite his curious look, it doesn’t seem worth it to try to explain anything to him. He’s not really of a generation that would probably understand or be open to whatever this relationship is that’s developing between me and the kings of Linwood Academy. I barely understand it myself, and I don’t want to be constantly justifying my choice to strangers.
“I am.” I nod to the older man as the twins loosen their hold on me, both of them turning to face him with somewhat threatening scowls. “Thanks for stopping to make sure I was okay. And for waiting with me.”
“It was my pleasure. You take care now. Ahh…” He gestures vaguely to his own forehead, then to mine. “You might want to get that checked out. Just to be on the safe side. Head injuries are nothing to take lightly.”
I can feel Dax and Chase’s posture shift as they take in the cut and growing bruise on my forehead. Dax steps forward and shakes Walt’s hand, his expression much less threatening this time.
“Thank you.”
Walt murmurs something about no thanks being necessary, and then he nods and heads back to his own car, shooting one last glance over his shoulder as he goes. As he drives slowly away, the twins both turn to me and pull me close again, worry burning in their blue-green eyes.
“Shit,” Chase breathes, reaching up to brush his fingers over the swell of my bruise. “You shouldn’t have been out driving in this mess. It’s a shit show out here.”
“That’s not why I crashed.”
I shake my head, feeling like I’m a visitor in someone else’s body, in someone else’s life. All the bullshit that’s piling up around me like the snowbanks alongside the road can’t be real. It’s too fucking much.
How was it only this morning that I went to visit Mom at the prison so we could spend a little bit of Christmas together?
It seems like a fucking lifetime ago.
“What do you mean?” Dax’s brows pull together, his usually cheerful face dark with worry.
“I went to see Judge Hollowell after I left Mom.”