Page 117 of The Ruthless Note

This conversation is awkward for the both of us, but I can’t deny my own experiences. A haunted house sets the mood for people to find comfort in each other’s arms.

My sister hasn’t been around boys a lot without my supervision and I don’t want her to go in with her eyes closed.

If she meets someone as intense as Dutch…

Flames lick at my chest. I can still feel Dutch’s heat. His slender, sure fingers scorching my skin and sending flickers of pleasure through my core. I can hear his breath and feel the overwhelming urges it inspires in me.

There’s no way I want my thirteen-year-old sister anywhere near those complicated and insatiable feelings.

Do as I say, not as I do, right?

My sister scrunches her nose. “I really don’t want to hear this right now.”

I lick my lips and shuffle my feet in front of me.

I have no problem with most of what it means to be a parent to my sister—working, paying all the bills, and making sure Vi is safe, clothed and focused on her studies. It stretches me to my limits, but I can make all the effort.

Sadly, when it comes tothispart of parenting…

“I know you don’t want to, but it has to be said. I need you to be safe.”

“Hmph.”

I lean against the door. “You know why I’m so protective of you, right? You have so much potential. I couldn’t bear to see you waste it on someone who’ll just get you pregnant and leave the way Rick’s dad did to mom.”

Her eyes roll up until they meet mine. “I got it.”

There’s a little more attitude in that statement than normal, which probably means she’s as uncomfortable with this topic as I am.

I start to leave and then turn back. “By the way, did you find your necklace?”

“No.” She uncaps a tube of lipstick and pushes her mouth toward the mirror. “You know what else is weird? I can’t find my tablet either. I thought I left it on the kitchen table, but when I got back…” Her eye roll is pure, tween perfection. “It’s been hell trying to edit my social media posts without it. You didn’t hide it from me, did you?”

A note of alarm runs through my mind. “No, I didn’t.”

She sighs. “I guess I must have left it somewhere. I’ll ask around at school tomorrow. Maybe I took it there and forgot.”

“Yeah. Maybe.” Uneasily, I back away from Viola’s bedroom and enter my own.

Is someone stealing from us?

My eyes jump to the dresser. My school laptop is on the desk. My jewelry is all there.

I purse my lips in thought. If it was a burglar, they would have taken my things too. Maybe Viola really did misplace her stuff? Maybe the front door really was left open by accident?

You’re safe. Hunter changed the locks.

Shaking my head and rubbing my arms to chase the goosebumps, I move my laptop off my dresser and log into my school email.

There’s a new message from the admin department about my work study. I click on it eagerly and then pump my fist when I see my request to change to early morning shifts was approved.

It’s been hectic trying to leave school in the evenings and make it to my shift at the diner on time. Sometimes, after school, students will be hanging around the classrooms. I have to either wait until they’re done before I can clean or clean around them, which is slightly awkward and embarrassing.

Thankfully, that won’t be a problem anymore.

I’m in a good mood when I change into my wig and the clothes Breeze picked out for me. Tonight, I’m wearing a Daphne fromScooby Doocostume. Breeze said something about switching my wig from red to orange permanently because it suited me so well.

I heavily disagree.

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