Jackson’s eyes go wide for a second with worry as my dad focuses singularly on him and takes one single, dangerous step in his direction. “Dominic!” my mother snaps, and then she’s moving quickly between my dad and my mate, turning and holding a hand up in front of my father’s face. “Think about w
Dad stares at me and then up at Jackson again. “What?” he asks. “I was just being polite –“ “Jacks is…not great with polite,” I say, pressing myself warmly to his side. “Actually, I think he’d probably rather fight you than do the small talk thing.” Jackson scowls, already coming back to himself
“Well, that’s enough of that,” my mother says with perfect calm, standing and catching Jackson’s eye. He freezes for a moment and then steps back, standing up straight again. Mom, ever-charming, turns a smile on the professor and thanks him for the news, ensuring him that Sinclair and McClintock w
And so I just curl up against mom at the head of the bed, listening to my dad and my brother fight about whether or not I should be at the school, and what the hell Rafe was thinking taking me there, and how I’ve survived so far. I can hear Rafe supplying information that Jackson told when they were
When I wake up the next morning – or, at least, I think it’s morning – it’s not like this weird mountainous hospital room has windows – I smile, because I smell Jackson. But then I frown, rubbing at my eyes, because… I mean, I took a shower. His scent wouldn’t be all over me anymore, so why… B
He points to the end of my bed and I see my black Cadet uniform there, along with some folded pieces of paper. I grin, encouraged by the sight of my Academy Black, hoping to hell this means my dad will let me go. I mean, I’m an adult now – my decisions are mine. But, if he really doesn’t want me t
As mom sits down on the bed with a bounce as I quickly read through my notes – one from Daphne, apologizing profusely for her betrayal, and the other from Luca – just a quick scrawl saying he’s glad I’m alive and he’ll see me soon. Smiling, grateful for both of them, I move towards my clothes. “So
“Mom,” I say, catching her arm and stopping her before she heads to the door. “Are you…are you mad at me?” My voice breaks a little on my question, my eyes smarting with tears as I look at her, worried. “Oh, baby,” she murmurs, shock and concern suddenly on her face. “Why would you think that?”