The Broken Note: Chapter 6
Zane yawns so wide I can look down his throat all the way to his lungs. He runs a hand through his dark hair and it flops back over his forehead.
A bunch of cheerleaders giggle. Each of them look at Zane as if his mere existence is enough reason to get on their knees and worship him. Even when he’s not trying, my twin can plow through half the female population.
The cheerleaders are sending smiles my way too, but I’m not looking back. My eyes are intent on the horizon, waiting for a pair of long, pale legs to clamor down the sidewalk.
I check my phone again.
Cadey’s late.
“You can still smell the sulfur,” Finn mumbles.
I glance behind me and notice my brother lounging on the stairs. One leg is propped on the railing and the other is so long that it touches three steps below us. An e-reader is in his hands.
“From the fire.” His sharp brown eyes slide toward me. “You can still smell it.”
I firm my lips and look away.
“They rebuilt as much as they could, but it’s not like they could hide everything. Some damages are there for life.” Zane stretches, long arms reaching over his head. “What the hell are we even doing at school today? We should have taken a page out of Sol’s book and slept in, but nooo. Someone insisted on coming.”
“Dutch has his reasons,” Finn says knowingly.
I pull out my phone and call Cadence again.
Nothing.
Damn it.
Why the hell does this girl not answer? Did she think I was joking when I told her to pick up my calls?
I have important things to ask her. Like… is she okay? Did she and Vi smooth things over after I left last night?
And what the hell was that talk about a corpse?
“Maybe she doesn’t want to see you,” Finn says, not lifting his eyes from his tablet.
“Why wouldn’t she want to see him?” Zane scoffs. “He went to that dumpster of a neighborhood to look for her sister and convinced us to join him.” He gestures between himself and Finn. “She should be kissing his feet in gratitude.”
“I’m sure Dutch has other ideas on where she can kiss him.” Finn clicks a button to turn his ‘page’.
“Totally.” Zane smirks.
I whirl around and send my brothers a frigid glare. “Can it.”
Finn shrugs, unperturbed.
Zane studies me. “Untwist your granny panties. We’re just joking around.”
I grunt and pace the front steps.
“Finn? Caveman translation please?”
“He slept with her and now he’s hooked,” Finn mumbles, eyes still on the tablet.
I freeze.
Zane does too. “Bro.”
I give my brother a stunned look. How the hell did he know that?
“Did Jinx tell you?” I growl.
“I don’t care enough to pay Jinx for that information.” Finn rolls his eyes. “It was all over your face when you came back home… the next morning.”
I flinch. Oh right.
Zane covers his mouth, eyes wide. “That night after she trashed our practice room… were you and Brahms…damn! No wonder you said we didn’t have to get her back. You’d already taken the price.”
I scowl.
Zane slaps me on the back. “About time.”
I knock his hand off.
“Wait,” he scrunches his nose, “why are you so anxious to see her? Girls are usually the ones acting clingy after se—ah!”
I grab his shirt collar. “If you keep flapping your mouth, I’ll stick my fist in it.”
Zane chuckles. “Try it and see what happens.”
I wheel my hand back.
“Enough, Zane. Go easy on him.”
“Why should I?”
“Don’t you see he’s been rejected?” Finn unfolds himself from the steps and tilts his neck from side to side, massaging the kinks. His eyes meet mine when he straightens. “For the first time in his life, Dutch genuinely cares about someone and that person would rather die than be involved with him.”
My anger surges.
My cheeks burn.
I release Zane and swing at Finn.
He blocks me with one hand and looks at me with bored eyes. “Compose yourself. Your woman’s walking toward us.”
Immediately, I whirl around.
Finn’s right.
Cadence is stalking toward Redwood Prep. She’s wearing one of her old uniforms—the really short skirt with the white top. I pause for a moment and glance over her, noticing her big brown eyes rimmed with dark purple circles of exhaustion.
What the hell happened?
How do I fix it for her?
Who do I have to kill to make her smile?
Behind me, I hear Finn sigh.
“Dad is trying to take over Redwood and Sol tried to burn the whole thing down, but one guy can’t take his eyes off the new girl, and the other is in love with our step-sister. We’re screwed.”
At once, Zane’s smile collapses.
The air gets tense.
I can feel a fight brewing.
Turning to my brothers, I speak confidently. “We’ll handle dad. And Miss Jamieson, she…” My eyes flick to Zane and back. “It’s not like she’s a biological sister—”
“Forget it.” Zane knocks into my shoulder as he heads down the stairs.
“Class is that way,” Finn says.
Zane flips us off. “I’m going back home. And I’m taking the car.”
Cadence nods at him as he passes.
My twin nods back and disappears around the bend.
Finn tucks his tablet under his arms. “I’ll be in the library. I’m not feeling classes today either.”
Finn greets Cadence, just as Zane did.
It’s a high honor to be acknowledged by either of them, but especially Finn. Brahms doesn’t run in our circles and we all tend to ignore other people—especially girls we’ve already slept with—it’s easier to keep them away. But Cadence is different. She’s important to me and that means she’s important to my brothers too.
Even if Zane, Finn and I fight like sumo wrestlers, we know what’s important.
Family.
Is that why I feel so intensely protective of Cadence? Is she my family now?
It’s a meaty thought, but I don’t have time to dwell on it because Cadence freaking Cooper walks right past me.
As if I haven’t been standing here waiting for her all morning.
As if I haven’t blown up her phone.
As if she’s got no idea that she’s been the only thing on my mind since I first laid eyes on her.
As if I can freaking breathe without having her close to me.
The.
Hell.
Is.
That?
“Take one more step and see what happens,” I drawl. My voice is calm, easy. But beneath it is a layer of steel that stops her in her tracks.
She whirls around, her dark ponytail long enough to whip me in the face. Brown eyes brim with fury. The sight of it reminds me of the days when every mouthy response from her made me want to smash her into a nearby locker and drop her skirt to her ankles.
That defiance of hers always did something to me.
Made my blood pound with frustration. With need.
Now, it just worries me.
Something’s wrong.
And screwing her won’t get to the bottom of it.
No matter how loudly my straining pants is screaming the opposite.
I’ve only had shallow flings with girls before. I don’t know much about dating, but I know that screwing like rabbits isn’t enough to keep a relationship alive.
Or else dad wouldn’t be such a massive freaking disappointment as a husband and father.
If anyone has a hard time keeping it in his pants, it’s him.
Musical chimes rush through Redwood Prep.
Our last warning.
“Class is about to start,” Cadence says. She averts her gaze and stares straight ahead.
I called you. Why didn’t you answer? Did you sleep well? Did you have breakfast? Did you and Vi work things out?
I clench my jaw and swallow the words back.
Zane was right. I am acting like one of those girls who beg me to call them again after I’m through taking what I want.
This isn’t me.
I don’t cling.
I don’t plead.
I make demands and I take what belongs to me.
And this girl, she’s mine.
It’s only a matter of time before she accepts it.
Tilting my chin up, I walk until I’m beside her and then I walk ahead of her. When she doesn’t follow me, I turn back.
Cadence eyes me warily.
I beckon her with my fingers. “I thought you didn’t want to be late for class.”
She scoffs and stalks past me, her skirt flaring around her upper thighs and almost flashing a butt cheek. My fingers tingle, eager to palm that stretch of skin, but I dip my hand into my pocket instead and follow her to the classroom.
She throws angry eyes over her shoulder. “What are you doing?”
“Going to school.”
“You’re not even in this class.”
“Of course I’m in this class.” I scowl at her and open the door so she can walk through. “I just don’t attend.”
She makes a disbelieving sound in her throat.
When we step inside, the algebra teacher stops mid-sentence.
I motion for him to continue his lecture.
He goes red and stammers out the rest of his lesson.
Cadence heads down the row of desks but, when she sees that her usual chair is already occupied, she tightens her fingers around her book bag and turns the other way.
I watch the punk in her seat smirk as if he won something and my blood pumps faster. How dare this bastard take my woman’s chair and gloat about it?
I grab Brahm’s elbow to keep her in place.
She glances at me, her eyebrows pinched.
Wordlessly, I lead her to the chair she usually occupies. Why the hell should she walk away? Why the hell isn’t she demanding what she wants? She always freaking sits here. Since that first day of algebra, she’s always taken a seat in the back.
No freaking way is that changing.
Not while I’m around.
Cadence realizes what I’m doing and her eyes widen. She pushes at my hand. “Dutch, I’m fine. I’ll sit somewhere else.”
“You.” I point to the punk.
He trembles like an idiot. Now isn’t the time to be scared. He should have thought twice before acting smug.
“Dutch,” Cadence hisses.
In the background, the math teacher is droning on about calculus.
I tune them both out.
Pointing a finger, I draw an imaginary line from the first chair in the row to his. “This all belongs to her.” I jut my thumb at Cadence. “No one sits here until she decides what chair she feels like occupying that day. Understood?”
“Dutch!” Cadence is whispering, but she might as well shout her objections.
The kid hops to his feet, grabbing his bag to his chest. In his haste to get away, his books fly out of his unzipped backpack and thud to the ground.
Silence falls.
Everyone in class stares at us.
The kid’s face turns red and he scrambles to put his books away.
Cadence drops to her knees to help him.
My eyebrows knot. I reach down to grab her hand and haul her up.
“Get off!” She snarls.
My eyes widen.
Cadence gives the kid his books back, mumbles an apology (for what, I have no freaking idea) and shoots me a glare so frigid, it would make Siberia feel like a Caribbean cruise.
I gesture to the seat she usually likes, indicating that she should take it.
Cadence pulls her lips into her mouth as if she’s trying not to curse me to space and back. She whirls around sharply and takes the only unoccupied seat at the front of the class.
The hell?
She never sits at the front.
Someone laughs at the obvious rejection, but that chortle ends quickly when I send a frigid stare his way. No one dares to even breathe after that.
Reaching deep for patience, I point to the chair right behind hers. It’s occupied but I give exactly zero damns.
I watch as the kid flees in a heartbeat and I calmly slide into the chair behind Cadence. She knows I’m behind her. I can tell by the way she clenches her little fists. By the way her neck tenses. But she refuses to turn around.
Fine by me.
I don’t care either way.
Slouching in my chair, I focus on what’s really important. Cadence. From this point, all I can see is her shiny brown hair spilling out of her high ponytail. Small tendrils are out around her cheeks.
I remember how it felt sliding past my fingers. Long and silky. Carrying the fragrance of fruity shampoo. If I lean closer, I can catch a whiff of it now.
Damn.
She’s sexy as hell from the back too.
I content myself with watching her and I don’t feel the time fly.
It’s not until the musical chimes sing through the room that I realize class is over.
Jinx: Prince Charming Or Prince Werewolf?
All eyes were on our Royal Bad Boy during first period today, but his eyes were on one person.
To all those broken-hearted step-sisters out there, don’t be discouraged. Redwood’s Prince might be wagging his tail, but the girl who slipped the collar on his neck didn’t bat an eye at him.
Is his devotion a dare gone wrong? Or is our Prince Charming making up for his past misdeeds?
One thing is for sure. Whether he’s in the shape of a man or a personal pet, I hope Cinderella knows the leash in her hand is tied to a powerful beast.
Until the next post, keep your enemies close and your secrets even closer.
– Jinx