“No.” I consider saying I don’t care, either but maybe it will help me understand why he’s such a dick to everyone if I listen.

“Since I was thirteen, I’ve been hearing guys talk about what a MILF my mom is. I have to pretend it doesn’t bother me or they’d just do it even more.”

“So that’s why you pick on people at school? You’re deflecting.”

Dylan makes a derisive sound. “You sound like a shrink.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”

If he acts the way he does out of some misguided idea that he’s protecting his mother, then I can’t hate him entirely. Dylan, Shane, and I are tied together through a bizarre trifecta of the maternal spectrum. This jackhole won’t thank me for that insight, however. And I still don’t know what he wants, so I fold my arms expectantly.

“I’m giving you a chance to back off. Bad things happen to people who threaten my mom.”

“Excuse me?” Both my brows go up. “I haven’t done anything. And I won’t, as long as you leave us alone. That was the deal. It hasn’t changed.”

“I’m just supposed to trust you? I don’t think so.”

“Even if I say, Okay, I promise I won’t tell, even if you go back to picking on my friends, how does that change anything, since you don’t trust me? Did you think this conversation through at all?”

A look of dismay flickers across his handsome face. I mean, I don’t want to date him but he’s attractive, no denying that. “I’m not stupid,” he snaps.

You could’ve fooled me.

“But my mom is,” he goes on quietly. “She trusts people … sees the best in them. So when that asshole Warick tells her it’s just a matter of time until he leaves his wife—”

“It means it’s never gonna happen,” I finish.

“Yeah. And it seems like I’ve spent my whole life protecting her, trying to keep her from making another stupid move, including sleeping with my friends.”

Wow, why the hell is he telling me this?

“They’d get her drunk, nail her, and then give me shit about it for the rest of my life. Which is why I have to be the baddest, scariest asshole at school. These guys have to know I will not hesitate to pull the trigger if they cross me.”

Dammit. I finally see his point.

“And if you back off Shane and Lila after our private convo, they’ll see it as weakness.”

He nods. “Blood in the water. So we can go down this road, but I guarantee I’ve got more practice being bad.”

“You might be surprised.”

“I doubt it. What’s it gonna be, Princess? Do we call a truce, you forget what you know and things go back to normal, or do I start digging for your secrets?”

My blood chills. Though I’m not sure, my case file should be confidential. Since everything happened when I was so young, the records are sealed and they’ll be expunged when I turn eighteen. I’m terrified, but I can’t reveal my vulnerability to Dylan. Right now, he’s just guessing that I have something to hide. I shouldn’t confirm it.

Silently, I shake my head.

“Bad move,” he says softly. “I’ll do whatever it takes to protect my mom.”

Ignoring him, I pull my bike off the ground and ride away, half expecting him to come after me with his truck. But he doesn’t. If nothing else, I’ve learned the key to Dylan Smith tonight. He’s not a bully for the fun of it, and I don’t think he’s a sociopath, either. He’s just driven by the desire to defend his mother. I’d almost feel sorry for him, except for the dread churning in my gut.

He’s not playing. He’ll search for anything he can use to discredit me. Logic dictates I should wreck him, shoot first, so to speak. If the whole school’s talking about what a slut his mom is, they won’t listen when he shit-talks me later. But … I don’t know if I can.

CHAPTER TWENTY

The next day, I expect there to be immediate fallout, where Dylan challenges my resolve by going back to his old habits, but instead we maintain a cautious truce. This can’t last, however. Once he has some bullets for his figurative gun, I’m going down. It’s only a matter of time before the peace I’ve won for Shane and Lila runs out. So now I have to decide what kind of person I am—the good girl I’ve been pretending to be or Shadow Sage, bad enough to ruin someone else’s life. The idea horrifies me, but I’m nearly frozen over the idea of everyone learning my secrets. Rock and a hard place, devil and the deep blue sea. At this point, my two choices seem to be bad and worse.

At least Shane’s leveled up socially. One of the girls from the Coffee Shop recorded a few songs on her phone and posted them on YouTube, then she forwarded the link to everyone she knows on Facebook. He has almost two thousand views on his Good Charlotte cover already, and today, people know his name as he walks me to my next class. They chin-lift at him, call his name, and say “sup” when I can tell he has no idea who they are.

“This is so weird,” he says, shaking his head.

I shrug. “It’s a small school.”

“Better than getting shoved around on a daily basis,” he decides.

With a quick kiss, he darts off to his next class since we only have math together. He has to work tonight, and I don’t, so this will give me a chance to catch up on homework. So I think, until I find Lila waiting at my locker after school. Today she’s a goddess in black; nobody should make leggings, boots, and a belted sweater look that good.

“You ditched me at lunch yesterday.”

“It was just a bad day.”

“I ended up sitting with Shane, your freshmen, and those random sophomores.”

“Sorry. Want to hang out today?”

“I’m pissed at you.”

“So that’s a no?”

Her scowl eases up. “Just don’t do it again. I want to hear about it if you’re having a shitty day or fighting with Shane.”

Heat creeps into my cheeks. I’d like to say that’s a lucky guess on her part, but I’ve made no secret that I think he’s awesome. So I just nod. “Come over. My aunt’s making soup.”

“You think it’s that easy?”

I grin. “I hope so. I’m not in the mood for drama … and besides, remember how happy it makes your mom when you hang out with me.”

“That’s true. She gives me forty-six percent less shit these days.”

“You did the math?”

“Obviously. Let’s go.”

She rides on the back of my bike again, and I pedal over to my place. If we keep doing this, I’ll lose weight, hopefully in my butt. I don’t have the chest to spare. We hang out in the living room because my aunt isn’t home yet. We’ll probably migrate once she gets back.

“I’m trying to decide why you live with Gabby,” Lila says.

It’s not what I expected to hear. “My parents aren’t around anymore.”

“Like…” I can see her trying to find a tactful word. “Passed on?”

I nod, grateful that she’s too uncomfortable to pursue this line of questioning. She’s curious if it’s a recent loss, but afraid of making me feel shitty. Good thing she’s a nice person. Otherwise, she’d definitely be digging to find out why I’m an orphan. God, that’s such a stupid word. It conjures visions of pasty-faced children in Victorian clothes with tin cups, dining on gruel. The reality is depressing in a different way.

“So what do you wanna do?” she asks, changing the subject.

“Homework, if you can talk and write at the same time.”

“I can manage. Wait, let me call my mom. She likes the new, improved responsible me.”

While she dials, I make popcorn. I hear snatches of conversation over the ping of hot kernels hitting the lid of the pot, and Lila sounds slightly annoyed. There’s a lot of sighing from her end, anyway.

“Everything good at home?” I ask, coming back to the living room.

“Yep. Speaking of which…” She sighs. “Would you mind coming over to prove you exist? I swear my mom is starting to think I’ve hired someone to play my friend on the phone. Plus, I need to repay the times I’ve come to your place. My mom’s cooking isn’t as healthy as your aunt’s, though. Butter is her best friend.”