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Two hours later, we faced each other across a dinky table in the food court. Bags—of lingerie, of clothes, of boots—surrounded us. We hadn’t gone too wild. Besides, Carly’s birthday was coming up soon. A big one at that. But I’d be up late crunching numbers to cover the money we’d spent.
Seeing my sister happy was worth everything. And hell, shopping had helped to take my mind off crap for a couple of hours. All I did was worry. I was heading for old age without even taking a scenic detour through my youth, and it sucked.
“So, what are you waiting for?” Carly waved a hand at our snack. “Dig in.”
“I will in a minute.”
“More for me then. Mmm.” She swirled her thumb through the cheese on our steaming platter of cheddar fries and licked it off with an extremely loud noise that bordered on obscene. After her third, “Ooh, yeah,” I decided to nip her enjoyment in the bud.
“Tell me about school, Car. Are you skipping? Did you need a mental health break or something?”
She swallowed a fry and took her time sucking more cheese off her fluorescent green fingernail. “I did my G.E.D. I’m all finished.”
It didn’t compute. “What?”
“I studied and took the G.E.D. last month. I’m done with school.”
God, not her too. I’d skipped half my senior year and taken the G.E.D. as well, much to my Aunt Patty’s displeasure. But I’d been having serious issues with fitting in and I hadn’t been able to deal with cliques and all the usual high school BS on top of my PTSD. At least that’s what the school nurse had called it. I called it my general fuckedupness.
“But you told me your grades were okay.” I didn’t want to believe she was following in my footsteps. She had such a bright future ahead of her. Why would she mess it up?
“Those were my last quarter grades. I stayed in class until right before the test.”
“You dropped out?”
“You call it that. I call it getting paroled early.” She expelled a breath. “Look, Aunt Patty already read me the riot act. I didn’t come here to get it again. I want to be with you, Ame. Sisters shouldn’t be so far apart.” Her big blue eyes implored me silently, saying so much more than her lips.
You need me.
We both knew it was true. I was drowning, and she’d been able to see it even from hundreds of miles away. She’d tossed away the rest of her last year in high school to save me.
Tears puddled in my eyes and dropped, one by one, on the table. I couldn’t stop them from coming. “I’m supposed to be taking care of you. That’s my job.”
“No, it’s not. You’re my sister, not my mom. And guess what, Sherlock? If it is your job to take care of me, then damn skippy it goes both ways. I love you and we’re a team. Aren’t we?”
The fierceness in her voice only made me sniffle harder.
“Aren’t we?” she repeated.
“Yeah.” I dashed away a tear with my knuckle. “It’s gonna be better, Car. I promise you. I’ll get better.”
“You’re already perfect. I know it. Fox knows it. He told me the other night when you were asleep that—” She shoved a fry in her mouth and started to choke, waving her hands at her throat like she was having a fit.
He’d been there when I was asleep? Which night? She’d said the other night, so she must have meant Friday.
The night of the fight.
My stomach clenched as tight as a fist. Had he stopped by to see if I was okay? Obviously, he hadn’t wanted me to know. Did that mean he…cared about me?
No. He just wanted to ensure he’d be in for a decent match when we squared off. That was all.
As insane as my reasoning was, I couldn’t keep from trying to explain everything away. He’d broken up with me—sort of—so how much could I truly matter to him?
Then I saw the gloves poking out of Carly’s jacket pocket.
Without thinking, I lurched over the table and pried them out, curling my fingers around the supple leather. If I’d been alone, I would have pulled the gloves up to my face and taken a big heady sniff. Not just because I liked the smell of cow hide—which I’d discovered I did—but because another scent would be all over them.
Fox.
