Page 60 of Vapor

“Who did? My father? Broussard?”

“All of them. Your father, Broussard, and Juan Vasquez. Each one of them had a hand in her death.”

“What happened?” I ask softly.

The door to the clubhouse opens and a giggling pair of women wearing next to nothing tumble out.

“Hey, Vape,” one of them calls. She tosses her long blonde hair over her shoulder and gives him a salacious wink.“You’re up early.”

“I was just about to head to bed,” he says, standing and reaching for my hand. I grasp it and rise.

“Is she a new girl?” the other scantily clad woman asks, eyeing me with suspicion. If she’s trying to size me up, I wonder what she sees.

“No. She’s staying here under my protection,” he says.“If anyone fucks with her, they’re done. No second chances. Got it?”

“Sure,” the second woman says.

“M-kay.” The first smirks before eyeing the grill.“Bones cooked?”

“Yeah, food’s inside.” Vapor opens the door for me and holds it for the other women.

I’m relieved to see that he treats them with more respect than he gave Jolene last night. Although, I can’t really blame him for being a jerk to her. She shouldn’t have snuck into his room to begin with. Not that I’m much better.

When we get back to his room, he closes the door and turns to me.“I’ll sleep on the floor. You can have the bed. I don’t know about you, but I need more sleep.”

“I didn’t get any,” I say, while my gaze drifts to the bed.“We can share it.”

“The bed?” He cocks his head slightly.“Are you sure?”

“You’ve proven you can control yourself. Also, I want to hear more about your sister, if that’s okay.”

He tucks his bottom lip into his mouth, gnawing on it with his perfectly white teeth.“I’ve got some extra shirts. You can use one to sleep in.”

“Okay.”

After he hands me a clean shirt, I head into the bathroom to change. I hold the fabric to my nose and inhale. It smells like him, that faint hint of musky male that drives me wild. Maybe sleeping in the same bed isn’t the best idea.

When I walk back into the bedroom, he’s already tucked under the sheets. Lying on his back, he’s got his hands hooked behind his head. He’s propped on a couple of pillows and although he looks relaxed, there’s tension in his eyes.

His gaze rakes down my body. I fight the urge to tug the shirt lower. It’s already almost down to my knees, covering everything except for my legs. There isn’t much to look at, but he can’t seem to tear his gaze away.

“You’d look good in anything,” he murmurs.

“Thank you.” Heat rushes to my cheeks as I climb into bed beside him. I’m careful not to get too close. It feels a bit like I’m getting into bed with a gator. He’s still and serene, but he could bite at any moment. I should be scared, but I’m not. I trust him.

“My sister’s name was Demi.”

“That’s a beautiful name.” I’d love to find out what his given name was, but it’s not important right now.

“She was a sorority sister at Tulane. Had the prettiest long, curly brown hair. Guys went nuts for her. I had to pound a couple into the ground when she was still in high school because they couldn’t keep their fucking hands to themselves.”

“You were her older brother.”

“By fifteen years. My parents called her an oopsies baby. They didn’t want to deal with raising another kid, so it fell on me.” The pain in his voice makes me reach for his hand. He lets me pull out from behind his head. Turning toward me, he lays on his side, still holding my hand in his.

“That’s a lot of responsibility for a fifteen-year-old.”

“It was. But I loved her right from the start. I never considered her a burden the way they did.”

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