As much as I like to think she needs me, I’m well-aware that this works both ways. I need my sister. She keeps me sane, gives me something to fight for, something to live for.
There’s a short pause that leaves me worried. Sure, Scar might not call the cops on Mike today, but what if she says the wrong thing to the wrong person at school and—
“Promise me, Scar,” I plead as it plays out in my head. “Promise me you’ll keep anything that happens here between us.”
She glances down when I knock her phone aside and squeeze both her hands in mine. I can’t say for sure she understands completely how these things work, but I do believe she can see the desperation in my eyes. It’s proven when some of the blind emotion clears from her expression and she gives a solid nod in response.
I know that look. Because I’d given it several times myself growing up. It’s the look of a kid who’s seen too much.
“I promise,” she finally concedes, and I pull her into a tight embrace.
Although this evening has been nothing like either of us expected, I kept my word. I said tonight would be all about her and it is. Everything I do—even the things that make me look insane—are because of one truth I will never outrun.
Out of all the things I’ve ever loved, Scarlett is the only thing I have left.
Chapter 19
WEST
Scratch marks down one arm.
A huge bruise on her shoulder.
What the hell is going on with this girl?
She notices me staring and adjusts the strap of her bathing suit. Sure, like that’ll hide it.
Hard fail.
I’m so distracted by the deep, purple mark she’s sporting, I hardly hear Mrs. C.’s short lecture about pool safety and being mindful of our surroundings. Even when she dismisses us to jump into the pool, I’m one of the last ones to move.
The only one more hesitant than me is Southside. Likely because of last week’s incident that resulted in her nearly drowning.
“Up for this?” Mrs. C. asks, approaching me from behind. I glance at her and then follow her gaze back to Southside. “She’s gonna need a lot of work, but you’re probably the strongest swimmer I have.”
I wipe the concern from my expression and nod. “It won’t be a problem.”
Mrs. C. offers a tight grin. “Good. Today’s your first day on the job.”
She turns and leaves me to it, and I’m aware of what a huge opportunity this is to further get under Southside’s skin, but for some reason, I’m not feeling it today. Maybe it’s the bruises and cuts she’s wishing desperately to hide. Whatever the case, I can’t shake the notion that she’s probably had enough hell over the weekend.
As I approach, she casts a weary gaze toward me. One that spurs a feeling I wasn’t quite expecting.
Guilt.
There’s real fear and mistrust in her eyes and I did everything in my power to put it there.
“Not today, West,” she groans. “I know what Mrs. C. said, but I’m just going to walk the pool for the hour, so you’re relieved of your duties.”
My eyes are on her as she descends the steps, wincing as the cold touches new parts of her skin. As a closeted admirer of her figure, I notice when the chill reaches her tits, hardening her nipples beneath her bathing suit.
Focus, asshole.
“Not my call,” I answer, hiding all traces of sympathy and lust from my tone. “I’m not failing one of the easiest classes I have because you don’t feel like putting forth the effort.”
Her stare darkens as I join her in the water, keeping a fair amount of distance between us. Mostly to make sure I’m not tempted to eye-bang her like I just did a second ago.
“So, how much do you actually suck at this?” I ask. “Can you at least float?”
She’s full-on glaring at me now. “Hmm … let’s see. Did it look like I could float last week? You know, when I practically drowned?”
A smirk slips. She’s sassy, and in a world where everyone puts on their best face to make sure they stay in my good graces, it’s surprisingly refreshing. She keeps it real when no one else has the balls.
“Smart-ass,” I mutter.
“Dumb-ass” she shoots back.
She’s fighting it, but one corner of her mouth tugs up. She wants to smile, even if pride won’t allow it.
“Let’s just get this over with,” she says with a sigh. “What do I do first?” Her tone is cold and indifferent, but I have reason to believe she’s anything but that.
“Well, seeing as how you have the skillset of an infant, we need to start with the basics. You’ve gotta get comfortable holding your breath underwater.”
A look of sheer terror fills her expression.
“That … gonna be a problem?” My brow quirks with the question.
There’s a brief moment where she doesn’t speak. Then, a sharp breath leaves those full, pink lips I hate that I still think about from time to time.
“It’s fine,” she concedes. “Just explain what I need to do.”
I suppress a laugh. “There’s nothing to explain. Just breathe in deep, hold it, then lean into the water until your face and ears are submerged. I’ll count to ten, then you come back up.”
That distrust in her eyes grows.
“No funny shit, West. I mean it. If I feel you trying to hold me under, I’ll junk punch you so fast you’ll—”
“Relax, Southside. My grade depends on this, too, remember?”
She doesn’t give in easily but, eventually, she calms down a little.
“Ten seconds,” she reminds me. “Not a second longer.”
“That’s the plan.”
Another of her death stares and she does as instructed.
I count her down as promised and she pops back up, drawing in a dramatic breath like she’s been under for minutes, not seconds.
Trying not to laugh at her is going to kill
