“So it’s fine if they talk trash about her?”
“She’s not even related to you,” Alex says, his words lit up with a laugh. “Why the fuck do you care?”
He couldn’t even begin to understand. Neither do I.
“You could even fuck her if you wanted,” Alex goes on. “No one can toss you in juvie for banging your stepsister.”
A clenching jaw is the only warning I have. My fist stops a foot away from Alex’s face, my muscles barely locking in time. He stares at it with wide eyes, blood draining from his face. “Jude, man, you gotta stop taking things so fucking seriously.”
“Tell them, if they so much think about her again, I’ll slit their throats.”
Alex gives me an uneasy smile, but when I don’t blink, he nods and jogs away. I should have said something sooner. But at least now they know.
Absolutely no one’s allowed to think about, speak to, or touch Harper.
No one but me.
* * *
I’m at the cooler splashing ice water over my head when I notice a few of the guys on the team huddling up on the sideline again. They start laughing, slapping each other on the back. Alex stands with them, and he happens to look my way. His grin fades a little before brightening. Then he lifts his palms up and parodies a reluctant shrug.
What you gonna do?
My gaze flashes to the bleachers.
Sean is making a beeline for Harper.
The cup crumples in my fist, spilling icy water over my hand. I desperately want to race after him and bash his fucking face against the concrete until it looks like chopped liver. But that doesn’t make any sense. Like Alex said, Harper is nothing to me. We’re not related. The only thing binding us is some pathetic scrap of paper our parents signed.
Have my dick down her throat by nine tonight.
Harper gives Sean a double-take when she realizes he’s headed for her, and then grins sheepishly at him. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen her smile at someone other than my dad. Come to think about it, I haven’t even seen her talk to anyone else. Ever. I thought she’d have found her clique by now, but I guess no one wants to hang out with trailer trash like her.
My chest tightens, and for once it’s not with anger. Fuck, I can’t believe I actually feel sorry for her. What the hell is wrong with me?
Sean hikes his cleat onto the seat beside her.
As if she’s stupid enough not to realize that the massive bulge in his pants is just a cup. Someone clasps my arm. I swing around to face Alex, and realize I’m not next to the water cooler anymore—I’m heading for the bleachers.
“Dude, just chill, would you?” he says. “Sean’s a lady killer, but, and no offense, your sister isn't his type.”
“Stepsister.”
Harper laughs and then puts a hand over her mouth. Sean leans a little closer, one hand dangling from his upraised knee, the other moving in wide, expansive gestures, like a farmer talking about his crops. Harper now has both hands over her mouth, and she’s shaking her head. He comes to sit next to her, leaning close enough that their shoulders brush and she doesn’t lean away. In fact, she ducks her head so her hair hides her face. Her hands hover, then she nods and takes out her cellphone.
Molten rage courses through me, tainting the edges of my vision red. I have no idea who I’m more pissed at, Sean or Harper.
Why the fuck am I surprised Harper is a slut? Like mother like daughter, right?
* * *
I manage a whole thirty seconds of silence on the car ride home.
“So when did you decide to start sleeping your way through the football team?”
Harper whips her head to look at me. “Excuse me?”
“I’m sorry, did I hallucinate you giving Sean Harris your phone number?”
She crosses her arms over her chest and shrugs her shoulders. “So what if I did?”
I check my left and then make a smooth turn out of Fifth Street and onto the main road that takes us to the quiet suburbia of home.
“Ever wonder why I’m not dating anyone?”
Harper snorts. “Because you’re a psychopath?”
My expression turns deadpan. “Dad—” I cut off with a grunt. “My father forbids it.” I catch her eye for a second as I check my right for traffic before switching lanes. “It’s a distraction.”
“Forbids it?” she repeats, a laugh in her voice. “He didn’t say anything to me.”
“He assumes his kids are psychic.” My jaw tightens when I realize I included her in that statement, but I guess I can’t keep denying the fact much longer. “Best you ignore Sean, and everything else with a dick, until you’ve graduated.”
“What about college?” she asks airily, her nose jutting into the air. “Can I date then?”
I shrug. “Who knows? You'll have to make it there first.”
She makes an angry sound and turns to stare out the window. “You’re a fucking dick.”
I shrug, letting her anger slide right off me. With a sniff, Harper rummages in her blazer. She crosses her legs, exposing an extra inch of her thigh, and then tugs down the hem of her skirt like I’m a fucking perve.
“I’ve seen it all already, Sis,” I growl. “Or did you forget?”
Her cheeks go red, but she refuses to look in my direction as she puts her phone to her ear. “Hey, Sean. Hope I’m not bugging you.”
Anger jolts through me. I slam on the brakes. If Harper hadn’t buckled up, she’d have a broken head right now. Her phone disappears with a thud into her footwell. “What the hell?” she gasps, yanking at the belt digging into her chest. With a whip of her head that sends her dark hair flying, she glances at the road behind us. “You could have killed us!”
“Pick it up,” I say calmly before pointing at her cell phone. “Delete his fucking number.”
“Fuck you!” She fumbles with her seat belt. “Let me out!”
“I have to drive you back home,” I say, my voice a dead monotone as I put the SUV into drive and pull off smoothly. “So that’s what I’m gonna do.”
She punches my shoulder, then again. Again. I let her. Better she takes that frustration out on me than she lets Dad have it. I know for a fact he’d let her have his belt. He’s done it with me and Rosie plenty.
“Delete it, Harper.”
“Go to hell.”
Again, I slam on the brakes.
Again, Harper jerks forward. She lets out a strangled scream and redoubles her efforts to take off the belt. This time, she succeeds. I have full control over the doors from the driver’s seat and I lock it before she can wrench it open. She’d need a brick and a strong throwing arm to get out of here.
Her hands are in fists, and she pummels them into me when I reach over and grab her phone from the footwell. Her phone’s locked, and it’s the kind that needs a pin or her fingerprint to unlock it.
“Pin.”
“Burn in hell.”
“Pin.”
She doesn’t reply.
I grab a fistful of her hair and yank back her head. She gasps and grabs my wrist, but as soon as I twist my hand, she freezes up. I hold the phone in front of her.
“Unlock it.”
Her finger trembles, but she unlocks it without a fight. As soon as I release her hair, she huddles in the corner like a kicked dog. I hunt through her contacts. There are surprisingly few of them, and most of them are things like “bakery” or “vet”. I delete Sean’s number as soon as I find it then toss the phone into her lap. “Trust me, you’re better off without him.”