“You’re leaving already?” she asked, raising one eyebrow.
“I’ve got plans tonight. Couldn’t change them,” I replied, standing from my seat and grabbing my plate and glass. “I’ll clear the table before I go.”
My mom grumbled a bit, but sat back and let Trevor and I clear the table around my dad, who was still eating. I always tried to help my mom clean up after dinner, at least when there were so few of us kids there. When Katie or Alex was home, I pretended like I had no idea how to clean up so they’d get stuck with the dishes. They deserved it for getting out of so many family dinners.
“Man, you need to ease up on Ani,” Trevor murmured while we worked around each other at the sink. “She’s been off lately.”
“You kidding?” I looked at him in surprise. “She starts that shit.”
“Just take a step back.”
“Barking up the wrong tree, Trev,” I replied, drying my hands off on a towel. “She can dish it but she can’t take it? Give me a break.”
“I’m just saying—ease up a bit. It’s getting to the point that you’re pissing me off lately.”
“You her protector now? Got something going on with Ani?” I asked, turning to look at him. The question was stupid, and I regretted it the moment it popped out of my mouth.
“Would that be a problem?”
“No,” I ground out from between my teeth. “Do whatever you want.”
“You’re such an ass sometimes, Abraham.” Trev sighed and shook his head. “I don’t have anything going on with Ani, numbnuts. But I’ll still kick your ass if you don’t fucking lay off.”
I walked out of the kitchen before he could say another word. I was pissed. I never started that shit with Ani—it was always her running her mouth. Christ, the woman couldn’t go five minutes without sniping at me, and it had been that way since we were kids. Did I care about her? Of course. Hard not to care when someone’s been in your life for the better part of fifteen years, but that didn’t mean I was going to lie down and let her walk all over me.
I didn’t want to think about why the thought of her with Trevor made my gut churn.
“I’m out of here,” I said quietly to my mom, giving her a quick hug.
“Well that was a fast cleanup,” she replied, patting me on the back.
“Told you I had plans. I’ll see you in the next couple of days.”
I nodded at Ani and my aunt and uncle, then patted my dad on the shoulder as I made my way through the house. I was going to have to haul ass if I wanted to be on time.
Chapter 2
Anita
I was distracting myself. It was stupid. I knew that I shouldn’t be following Bram through the streets of downtown Portland, but when he’d left the house in such a hurry, I was curious.
Okay, I was dying to know where he was going.
Bram wasn’t exactly social. I could count on one hand the number of friends he had, and he’d never brought a woman home. Sure, I’d seen him leaving with chicks from one of the local bars—but he never actually introduced them to us. So where was he going at eight o’clock on a Friday night?
I let the question roll over and over in my brain, taking my mind off the things I actually should be worrying about as Bram parallel-parked across from a dive bar. What the hell? There wasn’t much else on the street, so I knew that was where he must be headed, but why?
Pulling around the corner, I parked in the smallest parking spot ever made and jogged toward the entrance of the bar. Bram had already gone inside, and when I glanced at the patrons smoking near the entrance, I groaned and looked down at myself. My jeans and flannel shirt were perfect for dinner at the Evans house, but I was going to stick out like a sore thumb if I tried to go inside.
I stepped quickly back around the corner as I unbuttoned my top, making a homeless guy down the street wolf-whistle. Jesus. Keeping one eye on the man sitting on the sidewalk, I pulled the shirt down my shoulders and tied it around my waist, leaving me in a black cami. That should work. I bent at the waist and scrubbed my fingers through my short, dark hair, then rose back up as I reached inside my nose and pulled my septum piercing down so it was visible. The retainer was easily hidden when I was around Dan and Liz, and I didn’t think either of them even knew I’d gotten it pierced. I loved it—I thought it looked badass, but my old foster parents really wouldn’t and I didn’t want to deal with their kind but scolding comments about my “pretty face.” I’d gotten enough of that when I’d dyed my hair blue my sophomore year in college.