Chapter 4

Riley

The words fell silently into my head, shaped by the movement of his lips.

I stared hard at Jess, feeling a thin layer of cold sweat break out across my back.

A chill crawled down my spine.

This lunatic.

He'd dug up everything about me. He'd moved into my house on purpose.

And now he sat across from me, drinking ice water, declaring war with the most casual air imaginable.

He was here for revenge — for the bullying I'd screwed up in that dim alley three days ago.

The waiter brought out the main course.

The seafood pasta on the plate gave off a rich scent of basil and cheese, but my stomach was churning. That mixture of embarrassment, disgust, and fear had me fighting nausea with every breath.

Across the table, David was twirling a forkful of pasta and lifting it to Victoria's lips.

Victoria bit down, smiling, and the two of them flirted as if no one else existed.

I couldn't sit there another second.

I set down my silver fork. It clinked sharply against the porcelain.

"Sorry." I looked across the table at David. "I'm not feeling well. I want to go home."

David stopped. His brows drew together as he studied me. "What's wrong, Riley? You look awful. Something you ate?"

"No, just a headache, I think." The lie came out easily. I forced myself not to look away from my father's eyes. "I want to go lie down. Take your time, both of you."

I had just started to pull my legs out from the gap in the booth when the person beside me moved.

"I'll take her home."

Jess's voice was level, mild — even carrying a kind of solicitude that made my stomach turn.

My head snapped toward him.

He was looking at David, his expression flawless, entirely unthreatening — the very picture of a considerate older brother, impossible to find fault with.

"No, thank you." I cut in at once, my voice dry with tension. "I can call a car. Don't trouble yourself."

"Nonsense." David's face went stern at once, his tone brooking no argument. "It's dark out. A girl your age shouldn't be riding alone. This works out perfectly — Jess can go with you. The two of you can talk on the way. Get to know each other better."

I clenched my back teeth. He was handing me over to feed the beast.

"David's right." Victoria chimed in on cue. She patted the back of David's hand, then looked at Jess, her eyes full of approval. "Jess, take care of your sister. Don't let her catch a chill."

"Of course. I will."

Jess stood up.

He was so tall that the moment he rose, his shadow fell over me.

I was still trying to scrape together some last resistance when he bent down and picked up my black canvas bag from the leather seat.

He held it loosely in one hand and looked down at me.

"Let's go, Riley." He tilted his head slightly, and in his dark eyes the provocation was undisguised. "Don't keep David and Victoria from their date. You said your head hurts — better get home and rest."

He put heavy emphasis on the word date.

I looked at David.

My father, lost in his new love, was waving me off, his eyes full of satisfaction at a harmonious family.

I knew I wasn't getting out of it.

If I insisted on refusing, or made a scene here, all David would see was a difficult daughter — a brat ruining his newlywed happiness.

I drew a deep breath and stood.

"Thank you." I forced the two words out through my teeth.

"You're welcome, little sister." He answered with a light laugh.

I turned and walked quickly toward the restaurant's front doors.

Pushing through the heavy glass, I met the cold night air of downtown head-on.

The early-autumn wind carried a bite to it and cut off the soft, intimate jazz from inside like a blade.

The street lamps glowed a dim yellow. Tires ground over asphalt with a low, dull rumble.

The second the door shut behind me, I stopped and turned around.

Jess was just coming out.

He wore only a thin black T-shirt and that signature old leather jacket, his broad shoulders filling it out completely.

I held out my hand to him. "Give me my bag." My voice was cold and hard, leaving no room to negotiate.

Jess stopped on the steps.

He lowered his eyes to the washed-out canvas bag in his hand, then raised them to me. He didn't move.

A car passed on the street, its headlights sweeping briefly across his face. His jaw was tight, coldness settling over his features as naturally as breathing.

I didn't back down. I stepped forward, grabbed the strap of the bag, and yanked it toward my chest.

He didn't let go — but his grip was loose, barely hooked around it. The bag came away in my hands.

I immediately retreated two full steps, putting a safe distance between us.

I hugged the bag to my chest like a shield.

"Listen." I fixed my eyes on him and got straight to the point. "I don't care why you moved into my house, or what you're after. Let's make a deal."

Jess narrowed his eyes. He slid his hands back into his jacket pockets, unhurried, as if he'd just heard the most ridiculous joke in the world.

"A deal?" He rolled the word around, his mouth curving into a mocking line.

"That's right." I forced my pounding heart down and made my voice come out steady. "At home, we stay out of each other's way. You live your life, I live mine. As long as you don't come after me in front of David, I won't ask what you do outside the house."

I swallowed against my dry throat and went on. "And at school, we don't know each other. Hallway, cafeteria, parking lot — you go your way, I go mine. Like we've never met. You keep being the star quarterback, keep being the guy nobody dares cross, and I'll keep being invisible."

I was done.

It was the best solution I could come up with.

If we simply left each other alone, we could get through this last year of high school and then go our separate ways.

Jess said nothing.

He stood on the steps, looking down at me.

In the dim light, his eyes were so black I couldn't read anything in them.

Then he slowly pulled his hands from his pockets.

He came down off the steps and took one step toward me.

Instinctively, I backed away. My soles scraped against the rough sidewalk with a faint rasp.

"Stay out of each other's way?" He spoke, his voice low and dangerously hoarse. He took a second step.

I retreated again.

"That's right." I held firm. "We don't touch each other."

"Act like strangers at school?" he went on. He didn't stop walking. His long legs ate up the distance between us with ease.

With every step he took, the pressure radiating off him multiplied.

"Yes!" My voice pitched higher. I wanted to turn and walk away, but my legs felt like lead. All I could do was keep retreating.

I was moving too fast to notice the ground behind me.

Along the outside of the restaurant ran a brick wall, opening onto a narrow back alley lined with dumpsters.

My back slammed into the rough, cold brick.

There was nowhere left to go.