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I jerked to a stop as coldness washed over me, but Crisis’ hand on my back gently urged me forward again.

“I confronted him about it, asked him who you were; he wouldn’t say anything. Instead, the fucker hit me a good one right across the jaw. Never punched him back. Couldn’t do it. Jesus, he looked so fuckin’ haunted. Didn’t talk about you, though, and it took him six months before he slept through the night. I think it was the music that finally helped. He connected to it, you know?”

I nodded. I did know because music helped me too. We were separated, but the ironic part was music was our one connection which helped us both. I hated to think of Ream those months after he thought I was dead, but in a way, it was probably better than him knowing I was in Alexa and Olaf’s grasp. He’d have died trying to get me back, and there was no question, Olaf would’ve put a bullet in his head, especially with the amount of money I ended up making him.

I heard car doors shut then footsteps strode toward us.

Ream, who was approaching, chin-nodded to us. Crisis was completely relaxed and I couldn’t help but feed off his energy. It was comforting and I realized that despite Crisis being the attention seeker and the player, he had composure in him that I craved. Even when he texted me, he was straight up with whatever was on his mind even if it was maybe silly to some.

“Don’t tell him,” I said. Crisis glanced at me, his head tilting down, a questioning look in his eyes. “About the episodes yesterday. I don’t know what triggered them, but . . .” I decided to give him something, a sliver of me. “He protected me and I screwed it up.” Crisis opened his mouth and I glared; he shut it again. “I don’t want him living with the guilt of what happened to me. Because he will. He can’t help it. It’s in his make up to protect me, has been his job all his life and now it’s mine to set him free from it. So, I don’t want him to know. I don’t want that on him.”

“Shit, Haven.” He sighed, the dimples in his cheeks gone, brows low over his eyes. “I’d never tell anyone, okay?” I nodded then went to ask him about Kite when he said, “Kite won’t either, but I’ll talk to him just in case.” His hand on the small of my back shifted slightly and tingles shot up through my spine. “Do you trust me, baby?”

Did I? Yes, I thought so, but trust was easily broken.

His hand gently rubbed my back, soothing and . . . sexual. Maybe he didn’t mean it to be, but it was. Goose bumps popped up all across my skin and my heart pumped madly. I didn’t even want to consider what was happening between my legs because this wasn’t just a clench. It was way more than that.

I knew how to lock down everything, but this . . . the desire for Crisis was intensifying and I didn’t know how to stop it.

My brother’s shoulders were tense and his lips pursed together as he walked across the yard. “He looks pissed.”

“Yep. Don’t worry about it. It’s nothing compared to when I hit on Kat. That was pissed.”

“You hit on Kat?” I asked.

“Fuck yeah, Ream was being a pussy and not claiming her. I helped him out.”

I didn’t have time to respond as my brother stopped in front of us. “What the hell, man?” Ream said. “I told you I didn’t want you anywhere near my sister. One day. One fuckin’ day and you’re all over her.”

Crisis completely ignored his outburst. “You going to say hi to your sister?”

Ream grunted then his scowl lifted and his eyes softened. “Haven, hon. You okay?” My brother’s hands were curled into fists. I reached out and wrapped my hand around his, and instantly he relaxed. He dragged me into his arms and gave me a hug. “How’s school?”

Despite loving my brother, I was still uneasy being held in his arms. He was my twin and there’d always been a strong connection between us. I was afraid of what he’d find if I got too close. I’d always been the little angel, until I screwed that up. “It’s school.”

“What are you two doing out here?” Ream asked his tone tight.

“Crisis is teaching me to drive.”

“Drive?” he repeated, looking from Crisis back to me again.

I glanced over my shoulder at the garage where the lawn mower sat. “Yeah. We’re starting small.”

Ream was quiet.

Crisis chuckled. “Your sister is a natural with the lawnmower.”

I bit my lip to stop from smiling, but Ream noticed my reaction because he got that look, like when we were kids and he would get all sweet and nudge me on the tip of my nose with his finger. He hadn’t done that since we were kids. “Lawnmower?”

I nodded. “He thought it was . . .” I hesitated. Fun?

“Safety first,” Crisis finished.

Ream’s eyes narrowed as he looked from me to Crisis and back again. “Nothing better be happening here. I’m serious, Crisis.”

Crisis put up his hands. “Bro, she’s my . . . sister.”

Ream snorted. “By association and a fuck of a flimsy association.”

“Yeah, well, Mom might have something to say about that. Haven is part of the family now. And she is going to have a shit fit when she sees that new tat on your neck.”

Ream huffed. “She won’t even notice it when she’s busy bitching about your hair. Fuckin’ cut the locks, man.”

“I like his hair.” Why did I just say that? My brother’s eyes widened, appearing startled by my comment. Damn it, I was startled by my comment. “I’m going to . . . the clothes need to go in the wash,” I quickly added and headed for the house.

“You already did that,” Crisis yelled after me. I heard his chortle trail after me.

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