The Last Piece of His Heart (Lost Boys 3) - Page 49

She nodded slowly, then reluctantly moved to the door as if she didn’t want to leave me alone. “Goodnight, Ronan.”

“Yep.”

The door closed behind her but wouldn’t stay shut. The locking mechanism was busted. Dowd must’ve pried it open somehow. I tossed the peas in my freezer and dragged one of the cheap kitchen chairs to the door and wedged it under the knob. After Lily and Cami, the silence in my place was thick and heavy.

I went to the bathroom and inspected the damage. My lip was split—not too bad—but my right eye looked like hell. Swollen, blue, the cheekbone puffed and dashed with a small cut where he must’ve got me with his ring.

I lifted my shirt and sucked in a breath. Already, my torso was a patchwork of bruises. My right shoulder, which took the brunt of the table, was stiffening up and more bruises colored my skin beneath the owl tattoo. It stared at me in the mirror as if to say, What did you expect?

I couldn’t go to school like this and I sure as shit couldn’t go to the Barrera’s, even though Shiloh needed that shed. If my eye wasn’t better Monday, I’d wait, then work twice as hard and fast to get it done for her.

Then you won’t be over there anymore, interfering in their lives.

It was early yet, not even one a.m., but I was too stiff and sore to walk and no good to anyone anyway. I lay down to sleep knowing the nightmares were going to be worse and tinged with real pain.

And I was right.

Chapter Seven

I was right about Violet. Not only did she make Homecoming Court, she’d been voted Queen, stealing the crown right out from under Evelyn Gonzalez. Not that Violet had been trying to steal anything. Her genuine surprise and humble attitude were why everyone loved her.

To support her, I went to the football game on Saturday and the parade after with Miller. Or maybe it was to support him. We took our places on the aluminum bleachers and watched our Central Capitals destroy the Soquel Saints. Miller scowled every time River Whitmore completed a pass or threw for a touchdown.

Which was frequently.

My gaze kept wandering from the field to scan the faces in the crowd. Ronan hadn’t been at school for the last week and was a no-show at my house too. Bibi said he’d called in sick. As the football game droned on that morning, I found myself on the verge of asking Miller if Ronan was okay.

Because that’s allowed.

But the words stuck in my throat. Asking about Ronan’s well-being—putting it out there for someone else to hear—might somehow make the unsettling thoughts and feelings I’d been having about him finally settle.

And then I’d have to look at them.

After the game, Violet and River—still in his uniform—sat on the back of a convertible as the Homecoming Parade tooled around the track. Violet was radiant in black, her smile wide as she waved at the crowd or when she beamed up at River.

Miller’s scowl collapsed and then he just looked sad.

“Why do you do this to yourself?” I asked gently.

“Sorry?”

“Watch her be with someone else.”

“I need proof that she’s okay with him. That he’ll take care of her. Or I’ll sic Ronan on him.”

A shiver danced up my arm. I cleared my throat. “River’s unproblematic. At least there’s that.”

Miller’s expression darkened. “Speaking of River, did Vi mention that she and I kissed?”

My jaw fell open before I could catch it and Miller quickly looked away.

“I’ll take that as a no.”

“I haven’t seen her much lately. But no, she didn’t say a word.” I touched his arm. “I’m sorry. I always knew something was going on there.”

“Don’t be sorry. Just confirms everything she’s been telling me for years.”

“Is that why you asked Amber to the dance? To get over her for real?”

Tags: Emma Scott Lost Boys Romance
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