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received a slew of pics in the past hour. All of which very clearly depict you bawling your eyes out after leaving Dr. Pryor’s office this morning. What’s got you feeling so down, Princess? Could this possibly have something to do with everyone’s fav dysfunctional couple being seen leaving that same office not even twenty minutes earlier?

To add to the mystery, Mr. and Mrs. Holiday just showed up a bit ago and they did not look happy. What’d you do this time, Princess? Cross the wrong King’s queen again?

Hmm… guess this one’ll remain a mystery. For now, anyway.

Later, Peeps.

—P

Chapter 6

BLUE

“You look miserable. Say the word and we’ll slip out the back door. I’m kind of a pro at it.”

The offer has me peering up as West flashes a smile.

“Thanks, but I’ve been off academic probation all of, what, half the day? I dare not tempt the gods so soon.”

“Just saying, we have options,” he adds with a casual shrug.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

We’ve been posted here, leaning against the brick just outside the cafeteria for five solid minutes. I can’t seem to make myself go in there today. My stomach’s in knots, my head’s throbbing… the works. However, I’m not in the least bit confused about what’s brought it all on.

The possibility of uprooting your entire life in the very near future can take its toll on a girl. Barring there isn’t some miracle that manifests out of thin air, my mind is already made up. I know West will likely do everything in his power to stop me, but I’ll do what’s best for Scar at any cost. Even if that cost is my own happiness.

This is precisely the reason being near West stirs a strange mix of emotion inside me now—disbelief knowing we’ve come so far only to possibly lose everything, sadness knowing I’ll always miss him if I go. Even after the dust settles and years have passed, there will be no getting over him.

No getting over this. Us.

That churning in my gut has me looking away from him. Seems stupid to let myself fall deeper at this point.

Two months—that’s the vague cut-off I’ve been given.

Two damn months to make some form of a clean break from the guy who completely has my heart in the palm of his hands.

There’s some small comfort in knowing West would at least understand my reason for leaving if I have to go, but that makes nothing about this easier. Vin wants an ocean of distance between his son and me, and he’s kept tabs on me long enough to know threatening Scar was the way to get the job done.

West casually slips an arm around me and my thoughts shift. There are others nearby, hordes of kids rushing into and out of the corridor, but it feels like it’s just us. Like always.

I’m drawn deeper into his side, and somehow forget the vow I made to myself last night—while I tossed and turned beside him in my bed. I swore to start pulling away for my own sanity, because I have to do something to make this hurt less. But being near him now, all of that has gone out the window. My point is proven when I reach for the hand that rests on my shoulder, lacing my fingers with his.

Damn it, Blue. Don’t do this to yourself. Ease away now so you don’t have to tear yourself away later.

West nods at one of his teammates who’s headed in for lunch, and I use the moment to correct my mistake, slipping my hand out of his. To avoid him reading too much into it, I take my phone from my pocket and check it for the millionth time. Keeping tabs on Scar has become somewhat of an obsession today, and West knows it. If she doesn’t respond to my texts within thirty seconds, I go into a full panic.

Letting her leave for school from Jules’s house sent my anxiety through the roof. Probably because I couldn’t lay eyes on her myself as she walked into the building. Vin’s warning repeats in my head, and I wish I believed he only meant to scare me, but I know better. Something tells me he’s not one to make idle threats.

Hunter may not have confirmed my suspicion outright, but I know his being in prison has everything to do with Vin. I won’t lose another sibling to that monster.

Over my dead body.

As if I’m not already on edge, someone’s been calling my phone from a blocked number. There’ve been three today, and when I pick up… nothing. It reminds me of something West said about Casey’s paranoia. He described how she couldn’t relax because she was constantly on the lookout.

“Everything okay?”

I’m still a bit distracted when I peer up to find West smiling. Seeing that I’m confused, he nods toward my screen.

“Scar—is she all right?”

“Oh, um… her day’s been normal from what I can tell,” I answer with a sigh.

“Then, what’s with the stalking?”

Glancing down at me and Scar’s text history, it isn’t hard to see why he’d say that. Guess it does look a little manic on my part. Mostly, there are frantic ‘You okay?’ messages from me, resulting in ‘Don’t you have anything better to do?’ responses from her.

Then, there’s her latest inquiry, which I have yet to answer…

Scar: Shouldn’t I be hounding you? We ever gonna talk about that pic Pandora posted? Or are you planning to ignore the question like you did last night when I asked?

Needless to say, I haven’t bugged her since.

“She probably just thinks I’m smothering her. Like usual,” I say to West. “The girl will be fifteen this weekend and I still hover like a freaking helicopter. Even before I had good reason to.”

“Relax. You don’t smother her. You’re just a good sister,” he says, squeezing me a little. “But since we’re on the subject of smothering the ones we love, it’s my turn.”

The odd segue has me smiling, despite feeling like actual

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