Page 67 of Midnight Curfew

“Callum?” Sophia says in a quiet voice.

I look around her, watching her move her fork around, playing with her food. “What?”

She’s quiet for a minute, and I move over to the cabinet. Removing a glass, I press it to the water dispenser.

“Does he hurt you?”

Her steady voice makes me go still, that innocent cheerfulness gone and a more mature awareness breaking through.

I look at her, seeing her eyes focused on her plate, but her shoulders are squared.

Sophia.

I push down the lump in my throat. “No.”

“Why?”

My father has hurt me. He’s hurt my feelings, but that’s not what she means.

“Because he doesn’t like me enough to justify the effort,” I tell her.

And my eyes start to burn; I’m almost too scared to breathe. Please stay. I need you.

She shakes her head, a tear spilling over. “He didn’t like me.”

Not enough to protect her, but…

“He liked something,” I reply.

Having my father’s interest isn’t a good thing, and while I know that, she learned the hardest.

Sophia inhales a breath and looks up at me, smiling. She pops another bite into her mouth, and just like that, Anna-Katherine is back.

“When are you going to fall in love?” she teases.

She beams at me, dancing in her seat again.

I quirk a smile and jerk my chin at her. “Eat.”

11

Dallas

Five Years Ago

Lighting the cigarette, I inhale, blowing out the smoke as I drop the lighter back onto the table behind my bed.

I fit my other arm under my head, staring up at the shadows dancing across my ceiling and feeling the best kind of tired I’ve been in a long time.

“That shit stinks,” Golden Boy grumbles.

His arm presses into mine as he lies next to me.

I raise the cigarette to my mouth again. “So leave.”

We’re done. I’m drained, warm, and relaxed, but I don’t need to cuddle. When they stay, they ruin it.

I suck in another drag, my lungs filling to bursting before I blow a long stream of smoke into the air above the bed. He’s still, the sheet lying at our waists, a light sweat gleaming on my chest.