“What the fuck are you two doing?” Jordan yelled from the fast food place.

Cross and I shared a grin, and he moved around me once more. “Talking about my sister. Chill out. We’re coming.”

Cross fell in step beside me. I felt us falling back into our old roles. We were beginning to be more, but he was my best friend first. That’s what I needed at the moment.

“What town are we even in?” I asked as we went inside.

“I don’t know,” he said. “Jordan, where are we at?”

We headed for their booth.

I should’ve had my first clue when Jordan went unnaturally still at Cross’ question.

I should’ve had my second clue when Jordan paled, and his eyes widened.

I should’ve had my third clue when his eyes didn’t go to Cross, but to me.

But nope. I didn’t catch any of those clues.

I’d been happy. I’d been distracted by how I wasn’t unhappy, I wasn’t in so much pain, I was starting to care about things.

None of that clicked until we reached the booth.

Jordan gulped, crumpling up his sandwich wrapper, and said, “Potomahmen.”

Everything connected, in a slow and almost morbid way.

I was sucker-punched, by my own crew.

Because Potomahmen was the city that housed my dad’s prison.

Cross swore.

Zellman frowned.

And Jordan paled.

That was all I needed to see. Guilt. He did this on purpose.

A flame exploded in me.

I opened my mouth, but Cross beat me to it.

“You asshole,” he clipped out. “You know she doesn’t talk about her dad. Ever.”

Zellman kept looking from us to Jordan. His mouth opened, then closed.

“Come on.” Jordan scooted to the edge of the booth and held a hand out. “Look, I was just trying to do something nice for you. With all the shit that went down, I know you miss your mom a lot, and so I thought, Why not bring her to her other parent? That’s all. I swear.”

He was lying.

“You knew this would hurt me,” I shot back. “That’s why you did this. You didn’t want to fight Alex for me, but we forced you to do that. Then all that happened with Principal Neeon because of me, and I know you were pissed about that too.”

He didn’t know about my old house, and I never talked about my mom. He would’ve had no clue that I missed her. My stomach rolled like a sideways tornado. It wouldn’t stop twisting around.

“You’re a liar.”

I hadn’t itched for my knife in months. The judge had said I couldn’t have it, but I got a new one. I had it on me. I couldn’t go without it, no matter the consequences. That was one rule I couldn’t follow, but I hadn’t itched to use it.

Months.

I itched now.

I shook my head. “There’s a reason I don’t talk about him. There’s a reason I don’t see him. There’s a goddamn reason I don’t even let him into my nightmares.”

“Come on.” Cross took my arm and began pulling me toward the door.

“Where are you guys going?” Jordan stood, but he didn’t come after us.

I almost wanted him to. I wanted to take him down. I wanted to fight—the need to embed my knife in him was strong. I could taste it. The smell of blood rose up in my nostrils, but that was a memory, one I thought had been long buried.

“We’re leaving,” Cross threw over his shoulder, half-dragging me out. Again.

“I drove you here! How are you going to leave?”

“I’ll fucking think of something,” Cross clipped back, opening the door and guiding me past him. He fell in step behind me, his hand firmly planted at the small of my back. He knew I wanted to fight.

“Let me go back in there.”

“No.” He moved around me, taking my hand. I couldn’t break free from his hold even if I’d wanted to. He took me to the truck and reached into the open back. Finding the extra key Jordan always kept clipped there, hidden from sight, he opened the door. He grabbed some water, some cash from the stash in Jordan’s console, and closed it back up.

He was putting the extra key back when we heard the bells ringing from the restaurant door.

Zellman came toward us, his hands stuffed in his pockets and his skinny shoulders slouched forward.

Cross moved ahead of me and rolled his shoulders back. “Stop, Z. He crossed the line, and you know it.”

Zellman held his hands up, his palms toward us. “I know. I’m not here to defend him. I’m coming with you.”

Cross and I shared a look.

“Are you sure?” I breathed.

He was choosing us.

He nodded, his hands going back to his pockets. “Yeah. I’m not going to defend him, but I don’t think he really thought this through.”

I growled. “You just defended him!”

“No. I didn’t. I’m saying he’s an idiot. I’m not saying he didn’t have deeper reasons for this, but…” He paused, glancing back to the building. We could see Jordan standing in the entryway, watching us. He had a stark expression on his face, but he wasn’t frowning. He wasn’t smiling. He was just staring.

Zellman looked back to us. “I didn’t know we were going to the prison. He lined up a cabin for us to party at tonight. That’s all I thought we were doing, but he told me just now that he set everything up for you to see your dad tomorrow.”

“I can’t believe him.” I twisted my hands together. It was the only way I could keep from grabbing my knife.

“Dude, stop,” I heard Zellman say.

Jordan had come out from the fast food place. The wind was whipping his hair all around so a lock fell over his eyes, baring bleak anguish for a half second before he rammed his sunglasses back on. He looked harrowed, bags under his eyes, and in that second, his tan had a yellow tint to it. He was still pale underneath.

I registered all of that, and a part of my brain was telling me to slow down. Maybe he really was being a dumbass, but the other part held up the years of discord between us. He wanted me to do something, and I didn’t, and he was always disappointed. Like he was my father. He wasn’t. He was a friend. He was my equal. He was my crew. I didn’t have to do what he wanted, and today was another example.

He wanted me to see my dad. Well, fuck him, because who was he hurting? Me.

Knives sliced through my chest. The betrayal was real.

“Bren, I didn’t mean…” he called. “I wasn’t thinking—”

“Goddamn right you weren’t!” I started for him.

Forget feeling hurt. I was furious. That pushed the rest away.

Cross caught me, pulling me back.

I twisted my arm free. I wanted to fight. Fuck him. Honestly. Fuck him.

I pointed at him, using my middle finger. “You get on this kick, thinking you know best for us. You don’t! You’re a mouthpiece, Jordan. You’re an enforcer. You’re not the brains, and it’s insulting to the rest of us when you assume you have to make decisions for us. You fuck things up. Your leadership role is intact because the rest of us don’t care. But don’t think you can throw my father in my face.” I started to go for him again.

He backed up as Cross moved in front of me. Zellman moved to his side to form a wall between Jordan and me.

Jordan’s face twisted, and he grabbed fistfuls of his hair. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think it would be like this.” He let go, his arms falling back down. “I really am so sorry. I only told your brother we were heading to a cabin for the weekend. I wish I’d mentioned more now. I—” He turned away for a moment. His hands found his hips. His shoulders lifted in a deep breath, then he turned back. He tore off his sunglasses, and I again saw the agony there. “I know how much you miss your mom,” he said softly. “I know about the house.”

“What?” The wind was knocked out of me.

“I was worried about you one night, so I tracked you down. I saw Cross’ truck pulling onto a gravel road and couldn’t figure out what the hell he was doing. Then I saw. I saw you, and I saw the house, and it made sense.”

“You did what?” The words came out strangled, like a whispered cry.

He was hand-delivering my nightmare to me.

That place was sacred.

My place. My sanctuary. My haunt. It held good memories, bad memories, nightmares, but hopes. I had hoped for something better, until I was forced away. He had no idea, no idea what that house meant to me.