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PROLOGUE
PYRO
“You can’t keep doing this, James,” Hayley implores. She called and asked me to meet her, saying she had something to talk about, and now she’s beyond pissed.
“Look at you,” she cries. “God, James, when is it going to stop?”
I grit my teeth. Sure, I look as though I’ve gone twelve rounds with a heavyweight boxer, but what’s new? I fight my anger out of me, whereas my sister bottles everything up. It’s been two years and she still hasn’t grieved over the loss of our parents. She’s pushed everything to the back of her mind, and instead of letting it out, she’s bottled it up. It’s going to come out sooner or later. I just hope it’s sooner.
“What do you want me to do, Hails? Hmm? ‘Cause sittin’ around and actin’ as though nothin’ happened ain’t fuckin’ it.”
Her nostrils flare as she glares at me. “Fuck you, James. You think what you’re doing is so good? Hmm? Well, it’s not. Getting into fights every fucking day doesn’t help,” she spits. Her green eyes, so much like our mother’s, rage with anger.
I’d much rather do this than listen to her weep. Her tears cut through me quicker than anything. When our parents died, we had no other relatives to take us in, so we ended up in care. Of course, no one wanted to take a troubled child in, so I ended up in a house filled with other angry kids. The worst part was that Hayley and I were separated. She lives with a family who have a twenty-seven-year-old son. From everything I’ve heard, he’s a real piece of shit. Thankfully, he stays the fuck away from my sister.
Hayley is the reason I’m not sitting in a prison cell, or worse, buried alongside my mom and dad. But this constant nagging shit is too fucking much. She acts as though I’m still sixteen. She just wants to pull me down into the grief she’s coated herself in.
I’m not doing that. Fuck no. I grieved. I let that shit out through my anger a long time ago. It’s time for her to do the same. If I have to be her outlet, then so be it. But this shit has to stop.
“Fuck,” she hisses, pushing her blonde hair behind her ear. “You always were a little fucker, James.”
I can’t help but smirk at her. She’s never been able to stay mad too long. “You need to sort your shit out, Hails. You can’t keep bottlin’ everythin’ up.”
“It’s all I ever know how to do,” she murmurs.
My spine straightens as I look at her. Actually look at her. Her eyes have bags beneath them from lack of sleep, her skin is pale and dry, and her hair is unwashed. This is unlike Hayley. My sister would rather be dead than leave the house without make-up.
“What’s goin’ on?”
She shakes her head, her teeth nibbling on her bottom lip.
“I fucked up,” she whispers. “I’m pregnant, James.”
Christ. That’s not something I expected her to say.
“Who’s the father?” I didn’t know she was dating anyone.
“Carter,” she whispers.
My rage bubbles up to the surface. Fucking Carter Temple. The son of the family Hayley is staying with. He knocked up my sixteen-year-old sister. The fucker is going to die for touching her.
“He wants the baby, James. He’s promising that he’ll make everything okay, but I’m scared.”
My throat lodges at her words as I pull her into my arms. “No matter what, Hails, you’re not alone.”
I’m going to kill that motherfucking bastard. The asshole is a pedophile, and he’s going to pay for it.
Her body bucks as a sob rips past her lips. Soon, her tears are soaking through my tee. “I don’t want to leave my baby like Mom and Dad left you.”
Christ.
“What happened to our parents was an accident,” I tell her. It’s something I had to come to terms with myself. “We can’t guarantee the future. You can’t live in fear, Hails.”
She nods against my shoulder as she sucks in a deep breath. She pulls away, and I catch sight of her red, puffy eyes as she swipes away at her tears. “I’m such a mess.”
“Nah, you look the same as always,” I quip.
Her eyes narrow, and I chuckle. At least the sadness is gone.
