Rattle Some Cages (Battle Crows MC 3)

• • •

“Even with the goggles,” Tide teased. “You were amazing. Did you play a lot in high school?”

I grimaced. “I played so much. I was varsity from my junior to senior year. Then played division three for three years before I decided that my mental and physical health could use some… shoring up. I was injured on and off for the last year of my playing, and by that point, I really hated volleyball. Or resented it. I don’t know. And you know how I am with crowds. Me and them don’t mix. So it was definitely a lesson in control.”

Price leaned forward, resting his bulky arms on his knees, as he said, “Never would’ve guessed that you played any sports.”

Then he grimaced because he realized what he said sounded horrible.

I giggled. “Let’s just say, after I no longer needed to maintain a certain physical fitness… I didn’t anymore.”

He flashed me a grin that I read way too much into, and I stood up, tired of shivering.

“Not that I don’t enjoy sitting here and talking to you in the freezing cold and raging wind, but I’m about to turn into a block of frozen ice if I don’t go inside.” I hesitated, looking at the brothers that’d stayed down here to talk with me. “I really appreciate y’all including me in your plans, even though you didn’t have to. You’ve definitely made these last couple of days bearable. And for that, I truly appreciate it.”

It wasn’t Price who I looked at last as I walked away, either.

It was Cannel.

She was standing on her balcony, her arms crossed over her chest, glaring down at where I’d once been sitting.

She must’ve not seen me get up, because when I arrived at the concrete underneath my house, I heard her talking to who I assumed was her husband.

“I just don’t like her,” I heard Cannel say.

“Your brother seems to,” Will countered.

“Will, he literally likes everybody,” Cannel grumbled. “It’s hard to find someone that Price doesn’t like.”

Will started to laugh. “Have you met your brother, Cannel? Price literally likes nobody. He attends family functions, and half the time, I’m not even sure he likes y’all.”

There was a long pause and then, “You’re right. Then I don’t know why he likes her. She’s not even that pretty.”

I felt my stomach clench at that, knowing without a doubt that they were talking about me.

I looked at my hands that were covered in sand, then sighed.

Who was I kidding?

I knew they were just being nice to me.

Price, however… I didn’t think he was just being nice.

At least, not only being nice.

He didn’t strike me as the type to do anything without wanting to do it.

I sighed and walked to the outside shower to rinse the sand off my body, groaning when I heard her parting comment.

“And what is she even wearing? She looks like she’s trying too hard,” Cannel snarled softly.

I looked down at my black swimsuit and sighed.

“Faye, I could really use a hug right now.”

Sadly, she wasn’t there to give me one.

And wouldn’t be ever again.

• • •

PRICE

The next morning, I woke up expecting to find Sabrina in her normal spot.

Only, in place of Sabrina, I found a note.

It said, in girly handwriting: Thanks for taking care of me. This was the best, worst vacation ever. Love, Sabrina.

Needless to say, the week that I’d expected to spend with her, then never speak to her again, had been cut short. And I wasn’t very happy about it.

If I was pissed about losing a day of vacation with her, how the hell was I going to spend the rest of my life in the same town as her and never talk to her again?

Yeah, if you’re thinking it can’t be done, then you’re right.

It only took me a month to realize it.

CHAPTER 10

Don’t piss off old people. The older they get, the more ‘life in prison’ isn’t a deterrent.

-Sabrina’s secret thoughts

SABRINA

Two weeks later

Something solid and striking happened between me and Price that week after Faye passed away.

He knew how I liked my sandwiches—i.e., crusts torn off and slathered in so much ketchup that you couldn’t taste anything else.

He knew how I parted my hair—down the middle.

He knew that I liked to dip ginger snaps in my coffee every morning, but not actually drink the coffee.

He knew me.

And his sister hated me.

Which was why, when I saw him walk into Tiddies, the bar and grill that Banger’s father owned, I felt an instant rush of relief.

Mostly because he made me feel calm in an already uncomfortable setting—hello, I was in a bar. Bars had crowds. Crowds were filled with too many people.

But also because I thought he may avoid me after what I’d heard from his sister the night before I left Florida.

The conversation that I was having was horrible, and I didn’t want to be doing it.