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One added bonus: I can look forward to never having to go to that gym again. And once I’m out of this house, I won’t have to deal with Nix, Colt, or James again, either. At least not on a daily basis. Maybe not ever. I doubt I’ll be missed come holiday time.
This is starting to look like my salvation.
The thought of my stepbrothers makes me tune my ears to any sounds coming from the rest of the house. I haven’t heard much from them today. In fact, they’ve pretty much left me alone the past few days, ever since I announced I was going to start tutoring. They haven’t even given me a hard time about not going to the gym with them.
I wish I could relax and believe this means we’ve reached a truce of sorts. I wish I didn’t have to wonder what they’re cooking up.
The problem with using my desk chair for its intended purpose is leaving my door unprotected. It’s a risk I have to take, and within minutes of my call ending, I’m reminded why I should have gotten up sooner and wedged it under the knob when the door swings open behind me. I brace myself, gritting my teeth and hoping whatever they want, they lose interest fast.
“Look at you. The little wannabe teacher.” I find Colt reflected in my screen, slouching against the doorframe with his arms folded.
“Is that supposed to be an insult? Because yes, that is what I plan to be, eventually.”
“Life at the gym not good enough for you?”
“I think this job makes more sense,” I explain as nicely as I can. I don’t want to turn this into a fight. I can’t give him an excuse to mess with me. “It’s good experience.”
There’s no pretending I don’t know why he smiles the way he does as he pushes away from the frame, entering the room. “You want experience? I’ll give you an experience.”
My skin crawls at the implication, not to mention the fact that he’s already given me an experience I would rather not go through again. No matter how much I felt like I enjoyed it at the time. I wasn’t in my right mind. I didn’t understand what was happening. He’s managed to ruin that for me, too. I can’t even remember coming that night without feeling used and dirty.
“I mean the kind of experience that will look good on a résumé.”
He perches on the edge of my desk, overwhelming me without hardly trying. His physical presence alone is enough to make my body go stiff, ready for whatever’s coming next.
“So what? You just sit here on the computer and tell kids how to do their homework?” Could he sound more dismissive? Because organizing storage shelves is so much more important?
“Something like that.”
“And people pay you for that?”
“They pay pretty well, actually.” I can’t help but feel proud of that. “Lots of parents want to make sure their kids are at the head of the class. There’s a lot of pressure out there.”
“That makes sense. Though I can’t imagine why they’d pay you for that.”
He’s only trying to get a reaction, and I know it, but that doesn’t stop my irritation from bubbling over until I have to say something. “I’m actually pretty good at math, and history was always my best subject.”
“You’re such a nerd.” It’s funny, though. He doesn’t sound as nasty as usual when he says it. I’m under no illusions here. We’re not friends. But at least he’s not being cruel. It’s amazing how little I’ve come to expect.
“Yo, what are you doing in here?” Nix shows up out of nowhere, and the entire energy between us changes. If I didn’t know better, I would think some of Colt’s posturing and cruelty is due to his brother’s influence. I’m not going to fool myself into believing that. I know I can’t trust Colt; he’s proven it to me. But I can’t pretend there isn’t a difference in Colt’s expression now that Nix is standing beside him. He’s harder, colder.
Nix sneers down at me. “Hard at work? I guess if you don’t have any friends, there’s not much else to do.”
“She’s too good for the job we got for her,” Colt reminds him, wearing a nasty smirk. “You can’t even be nice to some people.”
“And that’s why you don’t have any friends,” Nix decides. “Because you don’t know how to be grateful.”
“I’m sorry, but a job at the gym isn’t going to look as good on my résumé as tutoring.”
“You’re such a fucking loser.” All things considered, I’ve heard worse from him. “Don’t get used to it.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means things are going to change around here again once the parents get back.”
I don’t like the way he says it. The barely veiled threat under his words. “How?”
