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“Which is what?" Blake didn’t sound like he actually cared, more like….curious.
"Does it matter?" Harrison huffed, "Just help me find her."
"Fine."
Lying there in the mud, I was torn in two. I didn't want to upset Callie or freak her out any more than she already was. But I also wanted to pummel the guy—that was my younger sister he was talking about.
Trying to keep my breathing quiet, I waited, my whole body tense. The ground was cold, the grass was itchy, and the air was sticky, making my hair cling to my face.
The sound of water sloshing made a shiver of anxiety zip up my spine. They were getting closer.
"Callie," I whispered in warning, pointing toward the cordgrass I'd trampled on my way over. I may as well have left a gingerbread cookie trail.
“They won’t see,” she whispered back desperately.
“They will.” I jumped to my feet, ignoring the small squeal from Callie, who clamped her hand over her mouth.
"Hey assholes," I sassed, my hand on my hip, “what the hell do you want?”
"Well, well,” Harrison’s stare landed on me, his dull, lifeless eyes making me squirm. "If it isn't the mother-killer herself."
Pain cracked its way from my stomach, into my chest and face, and my eyes swam with tears. I grit my teeth to keep from crying in front of these jerks.
"Yeah, it's me." Even though I hated the nickname, I didn’t deny it. I couldn’t. Because it was true. "Why're you lookin’ for my sister?"
"Because. The bitch thought she could hit me and get away with it."
Hit him? What was Callie thinking? He was like, a hundred times bigger than her. Hitting that spoiled brat was like opening the door to an oncoming hurricane. Once you were in his path, he destroyed you with everything he had.
Which was a lot. His dad was super powerful.
"Awww," I crooned, "was the widdle baby hurt by a widdle girl?" Apparently I had a death wish. "Want me to see if my daddy has any baby wipes to wipe away your widdle tears?" I really did.
He was going to kill me.
But I didn't care. Nobody messed with my sister and got away with it.
Surprisingly, Blake belted out in laughter, even catching Harrison by surprise. "She's right, Harrison," Blake’s white teeth flashed in the darkness, he was laughing so hard, "why do you care what an eight year old did?”
"I told you," Harrison growled, stomping through the muck towards me, making me take a few cautious steps back. The bay was unpredictable—you could fall into deep water with any step.
"I don't care who you are or how old you are. Nobody messes with a Vanderhorst." Harrison got even closer, his eyes blazing with a cold and hard anger.
Vanderhorst was an older southern name, just like mine. And yet, for some reason, the Vanderhorsts acted like they were some kind of royalty around here.
Who gave a crap about all that?
The Vanderhorsts did, that's who.
Them and their stupid cronies.
"Look, I don’t know what's got your panties all in a twist over my sister, but you need to leave her alone."
“And what’re you,” he jutted a finger into my chest harshly, “gonna do about it?” Even leaning over me like he was, Harrison was a lot bigger. “Huh? You gonna do something to me?” His foul breath poured over my face, making me gag. “Mother killer."
"That's it!" Callie jumped to her feet. Charging, she tackled him. "I told you not to call her that!"
His shoes had sunk into the mud, so he fell flat on his butt, with Callie falling on top.
