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Kenna popped into view of the beaming headlights. She grabbed Mads’s arm and began pulling her off the road.

I stuck my head out the window. “What the fuck? Are you trying to get her killed?”

Kenna’s head whirled at the sound of my voice blaring through the night. She squinted against the headlights until she saw me, her lips splitting into a grin. “What’s up, fuckers?”

This girl. I sometimes wondered if Carter had permanently broken Kenna. She’d been through something traumatic, and we all carried around a chunk of guilt at not being able to stop what happened. Kenna had been like a sister to us—still was, just a different version of the sister we had grown up with.

“You’re insane,” I barked.

She winked. “Learned from the best.”

“Get in the truck,” Fynn ordered, his mouth a thin, straight line. He was as amused as I was. Less so. Fynn rarely got angry, but when he did, watch the fuck out. Hell, he scared me the way his features darkened.

But not Kenna. Girl was a fool. She grinned at him. “Sorry, they can’t be seen together. Micah’s orders. Isn’t that right?” She lifted her brows mockingly at me. Underneath all the attitude, she wanted to kick my ass, and I couldn’t blame her.

The headlights of the Hummer beamed over Mads like she was on stage. I could only stare at her, my fingers gripping the door handle, wanting to jump out of the car. She threw her hands in the air and stuck up two middle fingers with a spiteful, forced grin on her lips. “I’m not you’re problem anymore.”

“I’m going to kill her,” I growled.

Fynn watched them skip away, shaking his head. The Hummer idled while he wrestled with deciding to haul their asses into the car or leave. He wrung his wrung against the steering wheel.

It was clear they’d been drinking, and I couldn’t fault Mads for drowning her feelings in booze. I had done the same. “I’ll text Grayson,” I told Fynn, digging my phone out of my back pocket. He would make sure Thing One and Thing Two got home safely before they found trouble.

We drove back to the rowhouse in silence. Seeing Mads shook me. I wanted this over. I wanted Sterling out of our lives, by whatever means necessary.

CHAPTEREIGHTEEN

MADS

Running into Micah the other night hadn’t been planned, but it did turn out to be therapeutic for about five whole minutes, and then the pain set back in. That up-and-down, seesawing of emotions followed me all week.

But my feelings weren’t the only thing that trailed me.

As I robotically went through the motions of going to class each day, I got the suspicion someone was watching or following me. Often it felt like both. At first, I assumed it was Sterling sleuthing around campus looking for another opportunity to stick me with a needle, which only skyrocketed my paranoia and, in turn, made me want to run to the one person I was avoiding.

Regardless of those creepy vibes, I never saw Sterling. He was either doing an excellent job of spying or was staying away from me. The latter seemed too good to be true, yet he didn’t show up to our marketing class.

I did, however, spot an unmarked black car hanging around campus that was always parked near the buildings where I had classes or outside my dorm.

Micah put a security detail on me. Apparently he hadn’t liked my little episode of rebellion the other night.

As much as I didn’t like the idea of a stranger keeping tabs on me, it did finally give me a semblance of peace. Whenever the car was in sight, I was able to walk around feeling a bit safer. It was a bittersweet sense of security, seeing as it was Micah who hired the detail, but it was also because of him that my heart ached constantly.

“You’ve noticed him too?” Josie asked, nodding toward the black car.

I sucked on the end of my cigarette, drawing in a deep puff. “Yeah.”

Her brows drew together. We’d just finished our English class together and were meeting up with Kenna and Ainsley for a study session at Break Zone, a café on campus. “And you’re not angry?”

My normal vice of smoking wasn’t giving me the calmness I wanted. “I should be. I’m pissed off at a lot of shit, but the assigned detail is at the bottom of the list.”

“Is it weird that I feel better knowing he’s watching you?”

I made sure to blow the smoke away from Josie. “No, of course not. It means you care.”

“So does Micah,” she added quietly.

I shook my head. “Nope, still don’t want to talk about him.” My mouth went into a pressed straight line.


Tags: J.L. Weil Elite of Elmwood Romance