Treacherous

He’s still standing in the open car door when a black truck comes barreling down the road, whipping into the driveway seconds later.

“On second thought.” Pierce throws me a sideways glance. “Maybe I’ll take a raincheck,” he says, looking toward the truck.

“You can’t leave me here with him. Oliver’s not even here,” I hiss over the top of the car.

“No, but he will be. If Zayden is here, Olive

r will be right behind him. I love you, but I’m not trying to paint a massive target on my back.”

“Fine,” I huff. “Wimp.”

“Just go lock yourself in your room. You’ll be safe in there.” He laughs.

“How do you know? Maybe they’ll break in and suffocate me while I sleep.”

“Really?” He snorts. “I never took you for the dramatic type.”

“Dramatic? You’re the one running away.”

“Touché.” He laughs. “But I’m still leaving.”

“I hate you,” I spit good-naturedly, giving him the best evil glare I can muster.

“Shut up. You love me. Now get your ass inside before Oliver gets here. The last thing you want is to be caught outside in the dark with the two of them.”

“Gee, thanks for the warning.” I tighten my jacket around myself and take a step back.

“Text me in the morning and let me know you’re still alive,” he jokes.

“Nope, I’m gonna make you sweat it out until Monday,” I fire back.

“That’s the mouth I was talking about.” He points at me, reminding me of his comment earlier. “You just can’t help yourself.”

I stick my tongue out and flip him the middle finger, his laughter dancing through the cool night air as he slips back inside the car. Not waiting to watch him leave, I turn and make a beeline for the front door.

Unfortunately, I don’t make it there fast enough. Zayden intercepts me on the front porch.

I’m momentarily frozen by the sight of him. He has the gym shorts on that he was wearing during the fight, but his torso is covered by a black hoodie. His hair is disheveled and still appears to be slightly damp with sweat. In the dim porch lighting, I can see a bruise that’s formed just below his left eye.

“Oliver isn’t here,” I blurt before he can say anything.

“Yeah, I know.” He blows out a breath. “I actually came to see you.” He shoves his hands into the front pocket of his sweatshirt.

“Me?” I croak, my voice suddenly hoarse.

“Can we talk for a minute?”

I want to say no. I want to turn my nose up and walk inside without even considering the idea. But when I see the look on his face everything shifts.

ZAYDEN

I TAKE A STEP BACK from Rylee and fist my hands at my side. This was a mistake. I shouldn’t be here. I should be at home with dad, helping him with Danielle. This is the very last place I need to be. I don’t even know why I came. Oliver’s off with some bimbo he picked up after the fight, so I can’t even use him as an excuse. All I know is, after my phone call with dad tonight, I didn’t want to go home. I wanted, no needed, a break from the harsh realities of life. I’m an asshole and a coward because of it, but I wanted to get away from it all for a little while.

Rylee was the first person I thought of. Maybe it was because of the way she looked at me tonight, or whatever weird connection we shared. All I do know is I needed to see her. It was an impulse I had no way of curbing. And it’s confusing as fuck, because I don’t like the chick. She’s still the same spoiled girl as before. Except, I’m beginning to wonder if there’s more to her than the money she was born into.

Rylee looks at me like I’m some caged wild animal, unsure if and when I’ll pounce. Her arms are crossed over her chest, like she’s protecting herself. I feel close to the edge, but the last thing I want from her is wariness, so I try to relax my features and loosen my tense muscles.

“Do you… uh….” She gestures to the wicker furniture set on the porch. “Do you want to sit?”