I’m like an injured antelope abandoned by the herd, but I guess I asked for it. Somewhere between dating Matt and leaving fighting, I became the stray left for my uncle to devour.

My uncle never touches me. He doesn’t have to. His words, his voice, his glares... They have a way of clawing past my skin, becoming a toxic layer along my bones and creeping into my bloodstream. You’re worthless, he once told me. You’re weak and you’re worthless.

I’m not. My throat tightens and I rest my temple on the window. At least, I don’t think I am.

Too fast, West eases in front of my uncle’s. Sometimes I expect a black mist to surround the house, an indication of the evil inside. Even if there was, where else would I go?

I turn to say goodbye to West when the light of the streetlamp flickers on and something shiny draws my attention from the backseat. Two gym bags rest on the floorboards. Both are open and clothes poke out of the openings. His schoolbooks and notebooks litter the backseat.

“Why didn’t you tell me you’ve been living out of your car?”

No response, and the weight of my words crushes us both. Wind hits the SUV. A storm front is blowing in tonight, bringing ice, snow and plummeting temperatures. “You can’t stay out here tonight. You’re staying with me.”

Chapter 30

West

The thought hits me as I’m halfway up the trellis that this is the first time I’ve snuck into a girl’s room and oddly enough, it isn’t to hook up.

I’m too heavy for the rotting wood, so I work quickly and quietly up the tangle of decaying vines. Haley left the window open and I climb in, shut it behind me, then slide off my coat. I straighten and swallow the curse when pain shoots through the top of my head. I’m too damn tall for the ceiling.

Haley was drill-sergeant strict on her orders of no noise. She threw out a lot of instructions and the wide-eyed fear on her face kept me from asking questions. The girl was serious. Very serious. With temperatures threatening to drop below zero and wind chills in the negative double digits, I wasn’t in the position to play.

A lamp on the floor highlights a portion of the cramped attic. Most of the space is filled with varying sizes of cardboard boxes heaped one on top of the other. A fake Christmas tree with tinsel still hanging from the branches is shoved between the wall and a collapsed pile of mounted deer heads.

On the floor next to my feet is a blow-up mattress with a blue daisy-printed comforter. Haley’s backpack leans against the mattress and an old green chair appears to serve as her dresser as piles of her clothes are stacked neatly upon it. I catch sight of black underwear and a bra. Both have a layer of lace along the seam and damn if I don’t go hard.

The door on the other side of the attic creeps open. I duck into the shadows, then reappear when Haley enters with a plate and cup in hand. She uses a foot to close the door with a snap and her h*ps sway as she crosses the space to reach me.

Without meeting my eyes, she rests the plateful of food and the cup on the floor next to a clock radio. “It’s not much, but I’ve got a heater and walls.”

“It’s great.” It’s great she’s obviously breaking rules to give me a place to crash.

Haley realigns the comforter and fluffs the lone pillow. “This isn’t my house. It’s my uncle’s. We’re staying here for a bit. I used to have a room, like a real room with stuff, but, you know, this is temporary...”

She continues in the same forced cheery tone as she refolds a couple of shirts and her cheeks turn red when she spots the same underwear set. Haley rattles on about temporary and how they’ll have a real home again soon and after she strategically plants a pair of jeans over her private garments, I snag a finger through one of her belt loops and drag her closer.

Haley stops midsentence and her dark eyes widen. Her fingers grasp another pair of jeans she was in the process of refolding. If it weren’t for the damn things, her body would be touching mine. “I don’t care. I live in a car. You live in an attic. There’s no judgment here.”

She sags and, for a few seconds, Haley is the most pliant she’s been since I met her. I take advantage of it by letting my hands form to her h*ps and nudge her in my direction. She allows it, releases the jeans and drops her forehead to my shoulder. “We live with my uncle—Jax’s dad. We lost our home six months ago.”

My hands move up her back and I engulf her into my body. Haley answers by wrapping her arms around my waist. Through my shirt, I can sense her cold fingers, but the rest of her is warm. Extremely warm. She relaxes into me and lays her cheek against my chest.

There’s a peace in this moment—a settling in my soul. Like I’ve been searching for home and finally found it. Tired of fighting the urge, I run my fingers through the ends of her silky hair. “It’s okay.” We’re okay.

“It’s not,” she whispers. “Living here isn’t okay.”

We stay like that, holding each other. I think of Isaiah at the hospital the night Rachel was hurt. His two friends held him up and I wonder if that’s how Haley and I would look. Am I holding her together as much as she’s keeping me from falling apart?

With a sigh, Haley untangles herself from my body and sends me a shy smile. “Sorry. I don’t tell people that or bring them here. It’s just hard.”

“I get it.” And if she’s sharing secrets, I can spill mine. “You’re the only person who knows I’ve been kicked out and that I’ve been living in my car.”

Haley’s forehead wrinkles as she lifts the plate. “Really?”

Well... “Abby knows.”

She sits on the floor and motions for me to join her. The moment I’m beside her, she picks up a strip of thinly cut meat, then hands the plate to me. “Here. FYI, it’s deer meat.”

My stomach growls. I haven’t seen a decent meal that didn’t include a fast-food wrapper in a week. Along with the strips of meat is a helping of mash potatoes and green beans. Who knew I’d miss vegetables? As much as my mouth waters, I can’t. “This is your dinner.”

“And yours,” she answers. “I’ve been hungry before. I wouldn’t wish that on people I hated, much less those I like. I would have brought more up, but my uncle is a serving size Nazi.”

I consider arguing, but the hollowness of hunger wins. I’ll take some, but the majority of it will be hers. The taste of deer is different than what I expected, a little like beef, but not.