“Look, I get it. If my friend was keeping shit like this from me, I’d want to hit him. Even if I accepted it, I’d still want to hit him. I’m sure you’re feeling that.”

“You’re going to let me punch you?”

“Yep.”

“And . . . you’re not going to hit me back? I get a free shot?”

“As long as you don’t go fucking nuts, yeah. But if you start wailing on me, Reed, I will drop your ass.”

Reed thinks this over. He takes all of a second. “All right. Cool,” he says, shrugging. He steps closer and rolls his right shoulder, loosening up his arm. “You ready? I have hit someone before, you know. I laid out that guy Beth used to live with.”

“Good for you. Want a medal?”

Really, I don’t mean that. I’m just moving this shit along. I got more important things to get to.

Reed narrows his eyes. My plan works.

He cocks his arm back and lands a punch that whips my head to the side. Pain spreads throughout my jaw. My skin tightens. I spit out blood in the grass.

“Nice one,” I grumble, rubbing my aching chin.

“Fuck,” Reed growls. He’s shaking out his hand when I turn back. “Is your face all muscle? Asshole. You and that fucking chiseled jaw.” He flexes his fingers, glances at the blood in the grass and then at the cut in my lip. “Ah. I get why we’re out here now. You didn’t want to bleed all over my house.” A grin twists his mouth. He looks smug.

I give this one to him. I did lie to the guy.

“So Riley sent you here to take the fall for this? Why isn’t she with you?” Reed asks.

“I fucked up. I didn’t tell her my leg was better. I didn’t want her knowing.”

His face hardens.

The next punch Reed throws is done with his other hand. I leave ten minutes later with a split lip and the beginnings of a black eye.

And his parents’ address.

LAYING ON MY back in the middle of my bed, I pick at the worn, fraying cuff of my sleeve as I look around my childhood bedroom.

I haven’t lived here since before I moved in with Richard. Nothing has changed though. The walls are still painted hot pink and the ceiling is still decorated with those glow-in-the-dark stars. I stuck them up there without asking permission first. One is missing. It fell down sometime when I was in high school and took a patch of drywall with it.

My mom was thrilled. This is probably why she hasn’t bothered to remove the rest. It’ll ruin her ceiling.

I never expected to be back in this room. Once you move out of your parents’ house, you think that's it. I used to love it here. The bright color. The walk-in closet where I’d sit and talk on the phone for hours with the door closed. And where I also hid my first minis I got at a party and anything else I didn’t want my parents finding. But now, now the walls are too bright and the carpet irritates the bottoms of my feet. I miss CJ’s room. The muted tones and the cold wood floors. The freezing air pumping out of the vents.

I tug at the collar of my hoodie as tears prick at my eyes. It’s so damn stuffy in here. I hate it.

My phone rings. Rolling onto my hip, I stretch out and reach off the bed, swiping the device off one of the boxes I have yet to unpack. Beth’s name flashes across the screen.

I tried calling her after I left CJ’s house but it went straight to voicemail. I wanted to tell her what had happened. I wanted to tell someone aside from my mom, who couldn't really understand why I was so upset about moving out of a friend's house.

I didn't want to talk about it with her.

But Beth, she would understand. She’d tell me I did the right thing by leaving when I wasn’t sure. She’d tell me everything was going to be okay when I didn’t know.

“Hey,” I answer, shifting onto my back again. I sigh into the phone. “You’ll never guess where I am right now.”

“Mom and Dad’s.”

Reed’s voice startles me. I clench my stomach. “Uh . . . yeah.” How does he know? “Good guess. Why are you calling me from Beth’s phone? Is something wrong with yours?”

“I wanted you to answer,” he says. “Figured you wouldn’t if I called you from mine.”

“I wouldn’t?”

Reed breathes tensely in my ear. “Do you know why I hated that asshole, Riley?”

That asshole—Richard. I know that’s who he means. There is no other person who fits that description on the planet. Why is Reed bringing him up? God, I'd rather talk about anything else.

“Can we not talk about him?” I ask. “Please? I’m not really in the mood.”

“Yeah, he was a shit worker . . .” Reed starts, ignoring my request.

I roll my eyes.

“I was constantly having to stay on top of him. He fucked up a lot. He was late a lot. He didn’t take orders well, which is a major fucking problem if they’re coming from me. And all of that added up. But the main reason I didn’t like him was because I knew he wasn’t good enough for you. And I’m allowed to do that, Riley. I’m allowed to hate some guy if I know my sister can do better. It’d be fucked up if that didn’t bother me.”

I blink and feel my hand grip tighter to my phone. “Uh . . . okay.” I clear my throat. My eyes narrow. “So, you did hate him because he was with me.”

“Not because he was with you. You’re allowed to date, Riley. Jesus.”

“I mean, because you liked him at first, remember? And then, I don’t know, it just seemed like the second we got together, you switched, Reed. You stopped getting along.”

“I liked him when I first hired him and didn’t know any better,” he explains. “The second that piece of shit tried telling me how to do my job, I realized I was going to have problems. That just happened to coincide with the two of you getting together. But it wasn’t like I started hating on him because of that. It wasn’t the fact that you were dating. I realized the kind of man he was, Riley, and it wasn’t someone good enough for you.”

My breaths start coming out quicker.

“How did you . . . realize it?” I ask, voice quiet.

“I don’t know. Big brother instinct? I just knew. But you seemed happy, so I tried staying out of it.”

My brow furrows. “You talked shit about him all the time in front of me, Reed,” I argue, gaining volume. “How was that staying out of it?”