I stomp the door of the practice room open and stalk a line straight to Sol. He’s sitting in the sofa, his foot kicked up and a beer bottle clutched in his hand.
His face is a mask of calm, but we’ve been friends for long enough that I can see the big, dark thundercloud looming over his head and gathering in his eyes.
He’s on the verge of burning it all down and the scary thing is that I don’t know whether to join him or let him torch himself until he’s ash.
“Dutch.” Finn gives me a worried look. “You know what’s going on?”
Zane twirls his drumsticks, a nervous quirk. His eyes jump from me to Sol and back. “Did you two fight?”
“No,” I grind out.
“Then what the hell happened?” Zane uses one of his sticks to point out Sol. “He came barreling in here, went straight to the fridge and touched my emergency stash. It’s ten freaking a.m. and—”
“He got called into Harris’ office.”
One of Zane’s drumsticks fall. “What the hell?”
“Are they trying to kick him out again?” Finn demands. His body is coiled, taut. My brother’s a lot like the instrument he plays. Quiet. Withdrawn. Fits right into the crowd until one of his strings get plucked and he starts booming through the room, his frequency lower, deeper, and more powerful than any other guitar.
I can handle Zane’s off-the-wall unpredictability. But Finn…
Finn is the one I’ve always had to keep an eye on because when he moves, it’s always quiet.
Until it’s not.
Sol doesn’t say a word. He just keeps drinking.
His Redwood Prep jacket is off and the sweater he always wears is folded back at the sleeves, as if he can’t bother hiding the scars anymore. As if he wants them to breathe for once.
Zane reaches down to pick up his drumsticks. “Is it Miller trying to get back at us for Christa?”
“We’re not the target,” I say darkly.
Sol stops drinking. A drop of beer trickles down his chin and he doesn’t wipe it away. His stare is blank, unseeing.
I haven’t seen him like this since that night we snuck into the boot camp. It was the first night I realized that my friend, someone I considered a brother, was broken.
Sol sets the beer down on the coffee table with an audible thud. He grabs the Redwood Prep jacket and uses it to sop up his face. And then he stands, his eyes skewering me.
“You messed with her grades?” His voice is soft but lethal.
I lift my chin. It’s the truth. I’m not going to run from it.
Sol peers at me with eyes that are red around the edges. But only a fool would think he’s getting teary because he’s emotional.
I’ve only seen Sol cry once.
It was the night after his oldest sister’s quinceañera. Someone from the neighborhood called the police because of the noise from the party.
Sol’s parents sent us over to the neighbor with flan to apologize. The neighbor threw the flan down while yelling slurs about Sol’s ethnicity and hinting that he and his parents should go back to Mexico.
Sol picked up the flan, threw it in the trash and let the tears come as far as his eyes.
A few days later, the guy’s prized garden was torched, his car windows were bashed in and his nudes got leaked to all his colleagues at work.
Only the last one was our doing.
Sol is a loose cannon, all packed in tight and capable of flying off the handle at a moment’s notice. Now we know those issues aren’t just surface level. That crap runs deep. I don’t want him triggering anything that can destroy him again.
My shoulders get tight. I set my mouth in a deep frown, but I don’t fight back when he gets in my face.
“You think you did something good?” Sol pushes my chest. “You think I should thank you?”
“It wasn’t just him, Sol.” Zane rushes to my defense.
Finn joins him.
My brothers flank me on either side. They’re not going to turn on Sol. We owe him too much. But they’re also not going to let me take the flak alone.
I shake my head. “It was my idea. I gave the okay.”
Sol’s lips curl up in a cruel smirk. “Do you know what living in that neighborhood does to you?” His eyebrows hike. “It sucks the life out of you. You start fading slowly until you get numb. Everywhere you turn, all you see is death and drugs and sex. Those are the only three ways out. It takes a lot to clamor out when you have an entire family behind you. Much less when it’s just you and your kid sister.”
My jaw flexes, but I take it. I’d rather he spiral at me. I’d rather be there to keep my eyes on him.
Sol’s chest heaves. He stares through the window. I can see him wading. Wading. Wading through all the crap.
It’s mounting on him.
I don’t know what to do.
I only know I have to absorb the blows rather than let him keep it inside and self-destruct.
“My brother died of a drug overdose,” Sol whispers.
Finn, Zane and I have visible reactions. That’s the first time I’ve heard of a brother. And I used to spend plenty of time in the Pierce household.
“That’s why we left the neighborhood,” Sol says. “We don’t talk about it. It’s hard for ma. It was unfair. He was an innocent. No one knew when he started using. But people just shrugged and wrote it off. If you live in that area, it comes with the territory. You don’t expect anyone to live long or live well.”
The thought of Brahms being in such dangerous territory makes my stomach clench. I clamp down on the urge to march straight to her and demand she move in with me.
Sol’s emotions are removing the lid off my own. I can’t afford to run away with those thoughts. Out of the four of us, I’m responsible to keep a clear head, to have the long fuse, to see beyond the moment to the bigger picture.
It’s why they trust me to lead them. It’s why our band made it on our own backs, separating ourselves from dad’s overwhelming fame.
Sol hangs his head, turns and picks up the bottle again. “She reminds me of him, of my brother.”
I keep my expression blank and my voice calm. “You don’t have to worry. You’re not leaving Redwood Prep. We fought damn hard to keep you here.”
“I’m not letting Cadence leave either,” Sol says.
Something dark slithers around inside me when I see the determined glint in his eyes. I can’t tell if him looking out for Cadence is because she reminds him of his brother or if it’s more.
I don’t like it either way—that possessiveness of his.
But I don’t let the feeling overtake me. “Cadence is not going anywhere.”
My brothers look at me.
Sol too.
“She belongs to me. She’s not leaving until I say so.”
Sol doesn’t look comforted by that. I can’t read his expression and he hides his face quickly.
Running a hand through his hair, he drains the rest of his beer and grabs his backpack. “I’m heading home for the day.”
“I’ll take you,” Zane offers.
I jut my chin at Finn.
He nods once and starts to go with them.
I grab his elbow. “Before you leave, tell Cadence I need to see her.”
“She’s not going to listen,” he says.
“Make her listen.”
Finn leaves and I pick up my guitar. The high-pitched notes don’t soothe my aching nerves at all. Sol is pissed, but that’s not what gets to me.
He’s pissed we targeted Cadence.
And I’m not convinced his affections for her are brotherly.
That suspicion is like a piece of dirt in my eye, always at the corner, slightly irritating, but not terrible enough that I’m ready to do something about it. Not yet. But I know the day will come when I’ll have to.
And I don’t know if I’ll ever be prepared to take the knife and cut that dirt out.
There’s a pounding on the door.
I glance up.
“The hell do you want, Dutch?” Cadence screams from outside.
Despite the tension still living in my chest, I smile slightly.
Good.
Miller didn’t crush out her spark. Not surprising. I spent weeks trying to break her and she never folded. Maybe that’s why I’m so drawn to her, to that strength.
I throw the door open. Cadence stands in the doorway, looking ready to stab me in the gut. Her hair is pulled messily back into a ponytail, but a few strands fall out and frame her face. Her lips are pursed and her eyes are flashing obsidian.
“Get in,” I say in a low voice.
She remains stubbornly at the doorway. “Finn came and hi-jacked me out of class like a freaking thug. You guys must really think you run this school, don’t you?”
Her tone is scorching. I just want to step into that flame. Let it burn me. Let it show what’s really beating underneath my chest.
I’m not through with her yet.
I’m not done.
No one is going to take her from me until I’m ready.
Not Sol.
Not Miller.
No one.
I grab her by the wrist and drag her into the room. Kicking the door shut with my foot, I whirl her around and push her back, slamming her into the wall—not hard enough to hurt but firm enough to knock the breath out of her lungs.
She’s panting, shaking, glaring at me with eyes so black it could drown me if I’m not careful.
“Keep a hold on that anger,” I whisper, my fingers tightening ever so slightly as her ripe mouth turns down into a frown. “Don’t you dare think about leaving Redwood Prep until I tell you to.”
“And if I don’t listen to you?” she snaps, her eyes burning and lashing at me like angry waves on a shore.
I press into her. “Cadey, don’t try me.”
She stares at me until the tautness in the air between us starts to snap and crackle. I’m riding high on my fight with Sol and my own complicated emotions that Cadence seems to exclusively draw out of me.
So I start to step back.
But before I can order her to leave, she shoves me. “I hate you.” Another shove. “I hate you so much it kills me.”
I grab both her wrists before she can shove me again.
Her eyes lock on mine, hot and burning.
It’s terrifying. Exhilarating.
I need to burn with it.
I need to burn her with it too.
Without warning, I lower my mouth to Cadey’s in a crushing kiss. She doesn’t push me back. To my surprise, she pulls me closer.
That hot passion of hers explodes all over me and I realize that I may not have as much control as I thought.
I’m Dutch Cross.
Leader of The Kings.
Ruler of Redwood Prep.
Insatiable.
Untouchable.
Unbreakable.
But as Cadence’s tongue slides against mine and the fire burns me like a fierce wave, I realize something troubling.
If there’s anyone who can bring about my demise, it’s this tiny spitfire in my arms.
