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Chapter One
ISABEL
“You can’t be serious,” I snap, scowling at my roommate who’s clearly lost her mind.
Kim crosses her arms and glares back. “Where else is he supposed to go? Our parents won’t even talk to him, and no one will rent to an ex-con without a job. Hell, it’ll be a miracle if he can even get a job in this stupid town.”
“Then maybe he shouldn’t have committed a crime and gotten himself locked up for four years. Ever think of that?”
Her gaze narrows, and I grunt at the obstinate look I know so well. Since it’s her name on the lease, there’s no way I’ll win this argument, but it doesn’t mean I can’t put up a fight and cement my position on the official Apartment 11F record.
“He’s mybrother,” she hisses.
“So? Plenty of brothers decide not to be criminals and ruin their lives before they begin.”
“When did you become so judgmental?”
“Maybe when you informed me a felon was going to be crashing on our couch?”
“He’s not a felon. He’s a good person.”
I shake my head and grab my yogurt off the counter. “Whatever. It obviously doesn’t matter what I think.”
“Iz…”
I march past her toward my room.
“Iz!”
Slamming the door, I release a frustrated breath and drop to my bed. After placing the snack on the nightstand, I lean forward and grip my hair in my hands. This can’t be happening. I’m already juggling two online courses, a full-time job, and the latest blow-up with Pierce. The absolute last thing I need right now is Kim’s train-wreck sibling moving in with us. I couldn’t stand him when he was my best friend’s cocky big brother. Now, he’s a twenty-four-year-old convicted murderer.
Murderer? Really, Isabel?
Fine. Vehicular homicide isn’t exactly cold-blooded murder,but people who kill someone and run from the scene of the accident still aren’t people you want living with you. Especially after spending four years in prison and getting further warped by heaven knows what evil. I’ve taken a couple psychology classes. I’m no expert, but it doesn’t take an advanced degree to know prison doesn’t do great things for a developing adolescent brain. Not to mention… I shudder at the thought of what that place would be like for a privileged kid like Tristan Haverford.
Kim said their parents didn’t visit him once while he was incarcerated and have completely disowned him. That should be a hint in itself, right?
Apparently not.
“Iz!”
I look up at the bang on my door and try to calm my racing pulse. I’m not surprised when she pushes through without an invitation. The pain on her face tugs at my anger, though, and I have to work extra hard to keep it secured.
“Please, just trust me on this,” she says quietly. “I know you don’t like Tristan, but he’s my brother. He needed a solid home plan to get parole, and I couldn’t let him spend another day in there if he had a chance to get out. Not after everything he’s been through.”
“He made his own choices. Bad ones. Horrible ones that got Amber Hubert killed. He’s lucky he’s getting out at all. You don’t owe him anything.”
She shrinks as if I hit her, and I have no idea why. I get the family thing, but some crimes are unforgiveable—literally, in this case.
“Please, Isabel. It’s not…” She stops and shakes off a thought. “Just a few months. Just until he can figure things out and get back on his feet.”
I let out a breath. “Whatever. It’s already been decided, obviously.”
“I just want you to understand. To accept him. He hasno one,and… you can’t even imagine what it was like for him. He had a really hard time in there.”
“Ya think? That’s kind of the point of prison.”
She looks frustrated, like there’s something she wants to say and can’t. Or won’t. It’s always this way when it comes to what happened that night. Not sure how she expects me to “understand” something she won’t even explain.
