Forever Golden: Dark High School Bully Romance (Kings of Cypress Prep Book 3), Rachel Jonas [reading books for 6 year olds .TXT] 📗

self: Buy this girl a first-aid kit ASAP. She rages often enough that I’m sure it’ll be put to good use.

“Ok, so fair warning—the extent of my experience patching up wounds is limited to tending to injuries I’ve sustained on the field. Just thought you should know.”

She flashes another of those sad smiles before answering. “Thanks for the heads up, but I think I’m in good hands.”

I smile a little too, but hers has already faded. Why? Because Vin did a fucking number on her tonight.

Focus on her. Deal with his ass later.

Southside’s gaze flashes toward me when I settle beside her on the edge of the tub. She watches me loosen the old dressing and, somehow, I manage to get it off without hurting her more than she already is. I get my first good look at her knuckles now, and she definitely did a number on them. None of the gashes seem deep enough to require stitches, though. She got lucky.

Peering up at her, I raise a brow.

“Beautiful girl, hot temper—that’s a deadly combination,” I tease. “Ever consider anger management?”

“Once or twice, but some say being a little on the explosive side is part of my charm.” She winks playfully when I glance up from working on her hand.

“Yeah, well, we all know people lie sometimes, Southside.”

The joke actually draws a laugh out of her. One that sounds genuine, easy. I’d like to think that has something to do with me being here, looking after her.

“Ouch,” she winces, recoiling a bit when I dab her knuckles with alcohol.

“You good?”

Those dark-blue eyes of hers flash up for a second when she nods. Bringing her hand close again, I blow her skin to soothe the sting. Now, her attention’s on me instead of the pain, like it was a moment ago.

“Better?”

She nods again before answering. “Yeah, a little.”

Despite all I know those eyes of hers have seen, they’re so innocent. It guts me every time I look into them. The more I think about whatever Vin’s done, the more I want to hunt him down, even without having any details of their conversation.

“I need to know what he said.”

The words roll off my tongue as I dab ointment on her wounds, aware of having just jumped the gun. My plan was to get her settled before bringing this up, but I couldn’t hold back any longer. It’s a miracle I made it this long.

This girl… she has my whole damn heart, and sometimes it’s overwhelming.

Uncomfortable.

Guess I hadn’t realized how uncomfortable until now, when it’s been made so fucking clear that I can’t protect her from everything or everyone.

Waiting for her answer is killing me, and so are her red-rimmed eyes. It’s obvious she was crying at some point, even if she wants me to think everything’s cool. As I stare at her, at the aftermath of Hurricane Vin, I know all I need to know.

She won’t even look at me now, hasn’t for almost a full minute. But I don’t push. Instead, I finish dressing her wound, put the first-aid stuff away, then reach for her uninjured hand.

“Where are we going?” she asks, looking every bit as worried as I expect her to.

“To your room to talk.”

Her eyes widen with the suggestion, and before she even opens her mouth, I know what this is about.

“Actually… why don’t we go to the living room instead? I left clothes all over my bed and—”

“I already saw the suitcases,” I cut in, saving her a lie.

Now she knows there’s no point in hiding the truth—that she intended to leave. Hell, for all I know, that’s still her plan.

With that blank stare aimed at me, the silence seems so much louder. So loud it confirms my assumption—that she was fully prepared to bail without telling me a thing.

Her expression’s suddenly full of guilt and her eyes pool with unshed tears.

“It’s okay. I’m not mad. You were only doing what you thought you had to do,” I say quietly.

It isn’t a lie—I do understand. She was doing what felt smart, safe. But that shit stings like hell, imagining her bailing on me without saying a word. It brings something to light, though. That there’s still so much I don’t know, don’t understand.

Hesitant, Southside follows me to her room. There’s an awkward moment of silence as she gathers the luggage, then places it in her closet. She settles on the floor after that, resting her back against the bed and I lower to sit beside her. Then, after a long stretch of silence where we do nothing but stare at the wall, I try my luck at a conversation again.

“I need you to tell me why Vin was here tonight.”

No answer.

I’m trying to hold my composure, but damn. I don’t know where her head is, don’t know how vulnerable she is, so I’m walking on eggshells.

I place my hand over hers—the one that’s not busted up—and as soon as there’s contact, her eyes flood again. Seeing her like this gets to me, probably more than she realizes.

“Please, tell me what happened.”

The moment the words leave my mouth, her gaze lowers. “It wasn’t that big a deal.”

“It wasn’t that big a…” I stop myself just short of echoing her response, which now has my brow twitching.

It wasn’t a big deal? Then why the hell did she freak out and start busting shit up with her fist? Why the hell was she fully prepared to make a run for it?

Because it was a big-fucking deal, which means she’s blowing smoke up my ass.

Deep breath. Don’t fly off the handle.

“Did he make you sign something?” I ask.

A look of confusion flashes across Southside’s face. “No, it was nothing like that.”

When she leaves it at that, I feel another spike of frustration and my eyes never leave her. It’d make sense for Vin to come at her with that same NDA bullshit he took to Parker and Casey. It’d make sense for him to assume Southside knows my secret—which she