He’d never beg again.

“I’d advise us to stick to future business,” he said coldly. “We’ll need to set up a conference call with Cushman and get Brady working on specific plans. I hope you’ll be able to work late and on weekends. This will take up all of your spare time.”

Her voice went back to its rigid distance, as if she was barely able to tolerate his company. “I’ll handle it.”

“Good. Let’s start with the first house.”

For the next hour, Tristan concentrated on the task at hand, putting his body on lockdown. Work was primary. The goal was the only thing that mattered, not this strange relationship that imprisoned his body and stirred his mind.

But the past still drifted between them, curling and wispy like smoke that eventually disappears into nothing.

“Tristan! Wait for me!”

Impatience snapped at him, but he stopped running and turned. Her chubby legs pumped with effort, but the determination on her face confirmed she would have followed even if he hadn’t stopped. Sydney never took no for an answer, even if it meant ruining his game.

“Why don’t you find Dalton?” he hissed, trying to keep his voice low. Playing zombie tag required a delicate balance of swiftness, savvy, and sheer luck. The acres of woods around his house were perfect but also known to hide a good sneak attack. With her wild red hair, clumsy motions, and high voice, she’d get him caught in no time.

“I want to stay with you,” she said stubbornly. She reached him, her breath coming out in ragged pants.

“Fine, but you gotta keep up.”

“I will. I saw Carl over by the shed.”

“Good. Let’s head this way.” He took off with her at his heels but made himself go a tad slower. Why did he always have to look out for her? Having two brothers was already a pain in the butt, and now he got stuck with a girl. Mom always warned him to be nice, and he liked Syd, but she was always trailing him, asking him to play and stuff. He was fifteen—practically a grown-up—yet she kept trying to join in, whether it was to play video games or baseball or to watch movies. “Keep your ears out for any sounds.”

“I will.”

They walked through the brush in silence, listening to the chatter of birds, the snap of branches, and the wind in the trees. The rich scents of earth and rotting leaves rose to his nostrils. Voices echoed, but they were to the left, so they must be heading in a good direction.

“I saw a zombie movie once,” she said. “It was really gross. They wanted to eat brains.”

“Your grandmother let you watch it?” he asked.

“No, I snuck out of my bed at night and watched it. I’m more grown up than you think.”

He snorted. As if. “You’re only eleven. Still in elementary school.”

“So? Diane says I’m mature for my age.”

“Mom’s just trying to make you feel better. Besides, wouldn’t you rather be playing with dolls and princesses and stuff?”

She wrinkled her nose and shot him a disgusted look. “Ugh, I hate that stuff. I’d rather hang with you. Your dad said he’s going to bring me to the job site so I can see how the houses are built. I’m going to work for him one day and run the whole company.”

“Why? Don’t you want to get out of here when you get older? Go somewhere cool?”

She shrugged and picked at a hangnail. Her sneakers dragged through the leaves. “No. I like it here. And I’m gonna like working for your dad.”

Annoyance flooded him. He was trapped with nowhere to go. If it were up to him, he’d travel and do something great. Something just for him. He was sick of always taking his father’s orders and being ignored. His father only listened to Cal and never him. Dalton was always with Mom. Tristan had no one, but he didn’t care. Sydney had the freedom he always wanted, but she just wanted to stay in stupid Harrington. “Well, I’m going off to college soon.” If he could get far enough away, maybe things could change. But already his father was warning him he’d need to go local so he could continue working for Pierce Brothers.

“But you’ll come back, right?” Her green eyes held a worried glint and something else, something deeper that made his stomach tighten in a weird way. Like he was important.

“Maybe.”

She opened her mouth to say something, but voices broke through the woods, and he shushed her. Looking around wildly, he dragged her over to a massive oak tree with thick, gnarled branches.

“They’re coming,” he whispered. “We gotta climb this tree.” Her eyes widened. He shinnied up the trunk and got to the first branch. “Come on, hurry before they spot you.”

“I can’t get up there!”

The voices got louder.

He muttered a curse word that made him feel manly and glared. She was going to get him caught. “Yes, you can. Try.”

She scrunched up her face and tried to crawl up the fat trunk, but her arms and legs weren’t long enough to get a decent grip. “Tristan, help me!”

He groaned, leaning down to offer his hand. She grabbed on, and he yanked her up to the first branch, her legs scraping against the rough bark, drawing blood.

“I hear them! Over here!” Carl’s voice was full of triumph. Feet pounded in the brush.

“Damn, Syd, they heard you!”

Her lower lip trembled. “Sorry.”

Annoyance warred with sympathy. “Is your leg okay?”

She looked so miserable. “Yeah.”

Guilt struck. “Just forget it. You stay here, and I’ll jump off and head toward the creek.”

Sheer stubbornness flickered over her face. She shook her head so her red curls slapped her ruddy cheeks. “No. I can help you. Run.”

“What are you—”

With a wild whoop, she jumped down from the tree branch and started waving her hands in the air. “You can’t catch me, you can’t catch me!”

“There she is—get her!”

With one last glance, Sydney took off in the opposite direction, leading the boys away. Tristan quickly leapt down, taking off to safety. He heard victory yells as they caught her, and she turned into a zombie, but he already knew she’d never lead them back to him. She liked to make him happy, which made him feel bad when he was mean to her.

Oh well. At least he’d win the game.