Chapter Fifteen
The gentle engine of the white BMW purred to life. Kenna sat in the buttery leather passenger seat, staring out the window at basically a brick wall. She’d rather look at the garage than at me. Point taken. The last place Kenna wanted to be was locked in a car with me, and if we didn’t clear the air now, it would make this shopping trip miserable.
A deep sigh expelled from my chest as I turned down the radio. “Look, I know you don’t want me tagging along.”
“Whatever,” she replied snappily, still refusing to look at me.
I rammed the car into reverse, letting wheels roll out of the garage. “I’m the one who should be pissed here.”
“Aren’t you?” she challenged, turning her head and lifting a slim brow.
The muscles in my jaw ached from clenching them. “I’m more hurt than angry.”
“That makes two of us.”
Dragging myself out of my foul mood wasn’t easy when Kenna wouldn’t give even an inch. “Look, I get that the Elite are important to you, Brock especially. I know what it is like to depend on them. Believe it or not, we have one thing in common.”
“You mean something other than Carter harassing us both,” she muttered.
I eased the car up to the speed limit. It glided along the road effortlessly. “Okay, make it two things we have in common then. Besides sharing the same creepy enemy, we have them.”
“I did until you,” she pointed out. “Now they all run to protectyou. You’re one of them. I never had that.”
Leaves fluttered off the tree branches, tumbling in clusters onto the side of the road. It took just a single gust of wind to pick them up and send them whirling in the air. “Is that why you’re so upset?” I snuck a glance at her.
She pulled a pair of hooped earrings out of her purse and fitted them to her ears as she replied, “It’s not just being an Elite, but what it stands for and what it means to everyone else.”
“We come from very different worlds, and although appearances don’t mean shit to me, I do know what it feels like to not belong.” My throat thickened.
Her head angled to the side, regarding me shrewdly. “Is this going to turn into a sob story about how hard your life was? Because if so, not interested.”
My foot pressed firmer on the gas, earning the brunt of my frustration. “Good, because I don’t give a flying fuck about your social status or how popular you are. God, you might be the most self-absorbed person I know.”
Popping down the vanity mirror, she glanced at herself, before replying, “Thank you.”
The bitter sweetness in her tone made me want to slam her head into the windshield, but then I reminded myself that she was blood. We were family. “That wasn’t a compliment,” I said flatly. Could she not see how selfish she was, how shallow the world she lived in was and made her?
Kenna shrugged, a ghost of a smile on her soft pink lips. “In my world, it is a compliment.”
I shook my head, shifting my foot to break as some asshole in front of me cut into my lane. My hand laid on the horn for no other reason than it felt good. “This might be the strangest conversation I’d ever had.”
“What about with Carter? I’m sure you’ve had some pretty bizarre conversations with him. I still can’t believe you lived with him.” She shuddered. “I would have died.”
“Some days I thought I would.” The admission left my lips before I realized how vulnerable the statement was.
She zipped her designer crossbody bag closed and slipped it to the side of the seat. “That’s why he likes you.”
I blinked. “Who?” I wasn’t sure we were still talking about Carter, because he was the last person whose feelings I gave a shit about.
“Brock,” she stated, her voice changing as if the confession caused her pain. “You’re strong. I’m not talking physically, because he does have an ego and likes to use his muscles. I’m saying that despite everything, all that you’ve been through, you have this confidence about you.”
My brows drew together as I thought about her assessment of me through Brock’s eyes. Was she mistaking my sarcasm for confidence? For me, it was more of a defense mechanism, not a lifestyle choice. “You mean my I-don’t-give-a-shit attitude?”
She nodded, sending her ponytail bobbing. “That’s it.”
I snorted. “Most the time I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing, so it comes across as I don’t give a shit.”
Her cheeks flushed slightly pink. “Doesn’t really matter. It’s cool.”