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“Something happened,” I said, debating how much to tell her. I didn’t want to keep her in the dark, but I also didn’t want to increase the load on her shoulders. She was only eighteen. She was innocent, just as she should be.

Was that long-forgotten Olivia still innocent too?

“Tell me,” she said quietly, taking the choice from my hands. I couldn’t lie to her, not when those earnest blue eyes peered into mine.

I ran through the whole night for her. Tray getting drunk, me going to pick him up at the club. I didn’t call it a strip club—she’d probably get the wrong idea about what Tray had been doing there, and besides, I couldn’t help feeling like it was my duty to shelter her—and I didn’t spell out exactly what that fancy-sui

ted creep with the shiny gun holstered at his waist had said about me and Tray, but she got the gist.

“You punched him out because he knew your past. Somehow.” She narrowed her eyes. “And because he was a sadistic fucker who twisted things.”

That about summed it up, yes. Along with the fact that someone had been sending me harassing texts and calling me just to breathe in my ear, and this guy conveniently had a line into my past that he should not have had. Amelia Anderson and Mia Anderson were two roads that shouldn’t meet. I hadn’t exhaustively buried my tracks, but to my knowledge no one had dug up the bones before.

All that had changed last night.

I’d never laid eyes on him, yet he knew I was a fighter. That wouldn’t be that unusual, except female fights on the underground circuit didn’t garner the attention of the male. Perhaps it was the Fox link. That didn’t explain how he’d connected me to Amelia. Or why he’d looked at me as men frequently looked at Carly. I’d punched him for that as much as for what he’d said. It wasn’t the healthiest reaction to male desire, but it was what it was.

I’d been powerless once. I wouldn’t be again.

“I don’t know who he was,” I said finally. “He obviously followed the fights, but he knew Tray’s father and he knew about me…” I trailed off, replaying the conversation again.

Goosebumps popped out on my skin and I clutched the blanket tighter in spite of the hot breeze coming through the window behind us. Who was this fucking guy? I’d have to ask Giovanni. Just who I wanted to talk to. Not. It was his fault Tray had been in that stupid club in the first place.

“Fucking Pyramid Club,” I muttered, almost not realizing what I’d said until Carly stiffened beside me.

“What did you say?” she asked softly.

“Nothing.” Had she heard of it? Was that why she’d averted her gaze? “Just a club.” I tried to laugh it off. “Stupid drunk boys.”

She picked at a thread on the knee of her jeans, reminding me yet again that mine were sitting abandoned in plain sight. I could’ve gotten up to grab them, but I was too busy studying my sister’s reactions. “Why did Fox go with Giovanni anyway? I thought he hated him.”

“Don’t expect me to explain what men think, because I can’t.” I gripped her chin and lifted her head until we were eye-to-eye. “What’s going on with you and Giovanni?”

“Nothing. What happened to you last night?” she countered.

“I…I don’t know, exactly.” I rubbed my thumb over the dent in her chin and let go. Strong-arming her had never worked before, and I didn’t even know if I was correctly pegging her behavior as off when my own was so very fucked up. “I hit the guy. Decked him. He hit the floor.”

“Wow, Ame.” She picked up my right hand. It was only then that I noticed the knuckles were puffy and bruised. Flexing my fingers hurt, but the pain hadn’t even gotten through until now. “You should wrap this up.”

“Yeah. I should.”

She sighed and gently placed my hand on the blanket. “You didn’t even notice the pain, did you?”

“No,” I admitted.

How could I, when sometimes it felt like my entire body was a morass of wounds and aches? I didn’t even have the excuse of fighting anymore, though I continued to train pretty hard. My regime wasn’t as intense as it had been when I’d been active on the circuit, but it was close.

She sighed again, shaking her head.

“Giovanni got us out of the club. I guess those guys are dangerous. Fits, since they had guns.” Her gasp made me close my eyes. Great. I was scaring her even more. “I didn’t argue with him, didn’t say a word as he drove us back here. Tray was worried, and I wanted to let him know I was okay but it was like I’d forgotten how to speak.”

Carly was quiet for a while. “Ame, you need to tell your therapist.”

I nodded without opening my eyes. I’d already come to that conclusion. I didn’t like it, but I knew I had no choice. Taking the chance that I’d check out at the absolute worst time when the people I loved were involved was a risk I refused to take.

Lightly, she cupped my battered hand between both of hers. “I can come with you,” she said hesitantly. “If you want me to.”

The tears were back, squeezing out between my lashes. They embarrassed me, but I refused to hide anything else from my sister. “You would do that?” I asked, voice hoarse.

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