“Yes, as a matter of fact, it is,” I say, feeling more than seeing it as Ash and Bruiser catch up to me and settle at my side. I take a deep breath and feel Ash’s hand land gently on the small of my back. I glance over at him, and something inside me warms to see that his attention is on me. All on me. Not on this stupid woman and her posse. I let out the breath I’m holding as smoothly as I can. I can’t show these women how mad I am, how freakishly livid they’ve made me. Judging by the smug look in their eyes, that’s what they want.

I’m not going to give them the satisfaction. Bolstered by the weight of Ash’s hand on my back, I raise an eyebrow at her. “Is there a problem here?”

One of the women scoffs. I’m not sure which one, but the sound sends a shot of pure fury up my spine.

The ringleader just plasters on a saccharine smile. “Oh, nothing,” she says, reaching up and tossing a lock of her over-processed hair over her shoulder. “I was just telling the ladies here that I was glad that someone was cleaning up the Collins woman’s trash, though—” she glances back and forth between me and Ash, a smirk pulling at her lips “—I suppose if this is yours now, that’s a little too much to ask for, isn’t it?”

And with that she turns to her friends and says, “Let’s go, ladies,” and the entire fucking group sashays away. My muscles coil under my skin, ready for a fight. I want to lunge after her. I feel wild. I want to rake my nails down her face, claw at her throat, bite at her skin. It’s primal, unrestrained.

Vicious. Just like she is. Just like this whole goddamn town is.

It’s only the touch of Ash’s hand against my back that holds me in place as the hateful woman and her expensive tracksuit-clad posse walk away, a little faster than strictly necessary.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” I mutter, and jerk away from him to stalk up the porch steps. The boards creek and bang under my boots, and I’m still gritting my teeth as I yank open the screen door. I’m actually shaking I’m so pissed off. Shaking so bad that my fingers don’t want to close around the key, that it’s a struggle to get it into the lock.

How dare they? What fucking right do they have to talk about my mother that way? Like she was trash?

She wasn’t perfect. But she was never trash.

Who the fuck do these people think they are?

Finally, finally, I get the key to slide in, and I twist it with a jerk that hurts my own wrist but I don’t give a shit. I just yank open the door and fucking slam it behind me.

Assholes.

Ash

I give the women one last glare, and then tug on Bruiser’s leash. Together, we head up the front path to the house. As soon as we’re on the front porch, I unclip his leash from his collar. He knows what to do, I don’t have to worry about him making a break for it, and while I lean over to do it, I steal a glance back at the group. They’re walking away, and as I watch, one of them glances back and visibly jerks as she catches me watching. Then she whips her head back around and the group turns the corner and disappears from sight.

Good.

Good fucking riddance. Star has enough shit to deal with, without being judged by some snooty know-it-alls like that.

I should have let Bruiser eat their little fluff-ball. That would have shown them.

Pulling myself upright, I reach for the door, and as soon as I pull it open, I’m greeted with the sound of Star swearing like a fucking sailor, immediately followed by a crash against the wall.

Fuck. She’s pissed.

I’m in the kitchen before I realize I’ve moved, and just as I walk through the doorway, Star screams and hurls a frying pan against the wall with both hands. It hits the wall with a crash, sending bits of plaster and drywall into the air before careening away so fast I jump to get out of the way, even though I have no way to know where it’s headed.

“Jesus!” I say, and Star fucking whirls around to look at me, anger and defiance sparking in her eyes. I lift my hands in the air in surrender. I have never seen her like this. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone like this. “Are you okay?” I ask, but my voice wavers under her glare, and I hope I haven’t just brought her wrath down on me.

“Did you fucking hear what they said about her?” Star demands. “About my mother? Who the fuck do those bitches think they are, talking about her like that, like she was worth nothing.”

“I know,” I said. “Don’t listen to them. They don’t know anything.”

“Goddamn right they don’t know anything. Who the fuck even says things like that about someone? Who the fuck are they, acting like she was beneath them?” There are tears streaming down her face, and her face is waging a battle between anger and sadness right in front of my eyes. I take a step forward, raise a hand to reach out to her, but she opens her mouth and lets out a fucking wail, and reaches over to the table, snatches up one of the heavy metal soup pots we’d set there earlier and whips it against the wall. It clangs and ricochets off, just like the frying pan.

“Goddamn them. And her. And this fucking stupid useless house!”

She turns away from me and starts grabbing the mason jars off the counter and smashing them into the sink. As soon as I realize what she’s doing, what damage she could do, I race forward and grab her. But it’s too late.

There’s already blood trickling down her hand.

“Fuck!” she spits, and grabs at it just as I catch her in my arms.

“Hey. Hey hey hey, it’s okay.” I pull her hand away from her wound. I need to see the damage. She’s shaking in my arms, her chest heaving with sobs, and she leans back against me. “It’s okay,” I tell her again, and wrap myself around her as best I can, pressing my mouth against her ear through her hair. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not,” she says, and turns around in my arms. She presses her face against my shoulder.

“No,” I say, bringing my arms up around her, pulling her close. “But it will be.”

I’ll make sure of it.

Chapter 15

Ash

“Hey,” Star whispers to me, and I turn from my seat on the front step to look at her. She’s all wrapped up in a hoodie now, the sleeves tugged all the way down to cover her hands. Only the dark-painted tips of her fingers are visible. She shifts from foot to foot, and I can see the muscles shifting beneath the tanned skin of her long, fucking gorgeous legs.

“Hey,” I say back and take another drag of my cigarette. I’m down to my last one. I blow out the smoke slowly, watch it as it dances in the night air.

“Can I . . . I mean . . . Is it okay if I join you?”

God, she looks so scared now, like she expects me to say no.

I don’t think I’m ever going to say no to this girl.

I slap the palm of my hand down on the step next to me. “Pull up some wood,” I tell her, and turn back out to look at the road. I only barely hear her footsteps as she approaches. She sinks down onto the step next to me, and stretches her legs out in front of her. Her feet are bare, I notice. Her toenails painted white, her star tattoos dancing up her left foot. I want to reach out and touch her, but I won’t.