Page 16 of Midnight Curfew

“Why?”

Because Dallas likes her. She makes him vulnerable. That could be useful.

“Because I take care of her now,” I reply instead.

She was in treatment when I was away at college, but now that we’re both home, she stays with me.

I unbutton my shirt, feeling her mother’s eyes on me.

“What are you going to do?” she presses.

I narrow my eyes on her and then stalk to the door, forcing her to back up. “I’m going to put some men in their place, and I’m going to succeed where others have failed,” I taunt. “I’m going to have some fun. My father won’t be in this house for long.”

And the Jaegers won’t be able to keep the Bay by the time I’m done with them.

I slam the door on her and remove my clothes. She has no choice but to trust me.

3

Dallas

The high morning winds sweep through the forest outside my window, whipping the palms and rocking the branches. Slivers of the gray horizon peek through the leaves, but the trees and forest floor consume my view.

It was the one thing I asked Macon for when we renovated this old house. A floor-to-ceiling picture window for my room on the second floor. One where I can sit on the end of my bed, like I am now, and just sink into my head.

He’d simply nodded. As if he knew how close I was to leaving the Bay for good.

Maybe I wanted him to say no. It would’ve given me one final excuse to be done with it all, but he agreed, spending a week rebuilding the wall to accommodate my request. I guess it was his way of saying he didn’t want me to go.

It affected me more than I wished it did, because my older brother’s kindness had always been hard-won.

Leaning my elbows onto my knees, I watch the palm fronds bend and sway, and even though the window is closed, I can smell the storm that’s coming. This is the part I love, though. Waiting for the doom. Addicts don’t love the high. They love the anticipation just before. The reality never measures up.

No one ever measures up.

Callum will stick his nose where it doesn’t belong this summer, and maybe he’ll even try to get me fired, because he’s fucking predictable.

But he won’t have the imagination for much else. In a week, it’ll be a bore, and the years of preparation to build a presence in St. Carmen will prove to be useful, but ultimately…unexciting. St. Carmen’s golden boy won’t surprise me.

I tilt my head, cracking my neck as the memory of last night floats through my mind.

Okay, maybe he surprised me a little.

His piece-of-shit father is his enemy, too, but he’s the only one Callum might heel to.

Callum is after him as well. Should I warn him? The enemy of my enemy is my friend, et cetera?

No. I want Callum to stay. I’ve waited a long time for this.

I ball my fists, still feeling his hands around my wrists like cuffs.

One thing I will say…I didn’t quite get a read on what he’s going to do next. I can make assumptions—the threats in my ear were clear, after all—but then his smile at the end? It was so pure. As if he’s not worried about a goddamn thing and already knows exactly how this will go.

And he’ll want to issue a response for that little scar I gave him the last time I saw him.

Walking to the door, I open it and tap my fingers on the symbol on the wall before I step into the hallway. He got in my head a little back in the day. He said some things that consumed my attention and other things that made me want to kill. I love being that angry.

Until he started to feel like someone I couldn’t walk away from. No one gets under my skin.