Mockingbird (A Stepbrother Romance #2)(32)

"Dee dee," he says, throwing his meaty arm over my shoulder.

I shrug out from under him. "Don't touch me."

"Your mom said she'd be away for the week. Thought I should stop by and check up on you."

"She told you?"

"Yeah. On Facebook."

I blink a few times. My mom is on Facebook? And she's been talking to Lucas?

"I don't need anybody checking up on me, least of all you."

I break into a jog. Of course, he follows me. Suddenly I realize this might be a mistake. I'm moving away from all the people, towards a patch of preserved forest on the southeast corner of the grounds. Where the trees start up ahead, it's dark, the path shadowed and secluded. Lucas easily keeps pace, and I’m already winded from jogging this far. When I look back it feels like it's a million miles back to the museum or the garden or the house, and I'm stuck out here in the middle of nowhere with him.

Deep breaths. I'm being silly. He wouldn't try anything, would he?

Either way, I don't want to be out here, or anywhere else, alone with him. So I stop, turn without giving myself time to feel winded, and start jogging back.

He moves to block my path. When I try to cut around him he moves again, with surprising grace for his side.

"Where are you going?"

"Home. I'm tired. Excuse me."

Lucas' hand shoots out and clamps down on my arm.

"Hey, no rush."

I shake my arm, but he doesn't let go.

"Get off of me, Lucas," I warn, my voice rising. "I'm not joking. Don't touch me."

He yanks my arm and I stumble, drive my elbow into his stomach and try to shake loose. All I end up doing is sliding my arm in his grip, so he has me by the wrist.

"That hurt, you little bitch. Why don't you just-"

"What's going on here?"

It can't be.

Apollo comes jogging up the path, the heat-haze behind him shimmering. He slows as he approaches. His eyes fix on Lucas' hand on my wrist.

"She said let go, meathead."

"You again," Lucas growls, releasing me as he steps forward. "You need to learn to stay out of my business."

"Do I? I think you need to learn to stay out of my business."

"What?"

Apollo nods at me.

"She's my business."

Lucas summons all of his eloquence and growls, "Fuck off."

"I don't think so. Come on, Diana. I'll walk you home."

I move towards Apollo and Lucas blocks my way, turned sideways, one eye on Apollo.

"I don't know how you think this is going to go, but it's not going to be good for you," Apollo says, his voice jovial, almost joking.

Then, Lucas takes a swing at him.

Apollo just folds out of the way, twisting so smoothly I can barely believe he kept his balance. Lucas stumbles right past him, but apparently that wasn't enough for him. He turns around, swinging his meaty fist in a backhanded blow that connects with nothing but air. Apollo ducks the blow like he saw it coming last week and isn't all that concerned about it. Lucas grabs at him and again, nothing.

"I know what you're going to do before you do it," Apollo sighs. "Just give up."

Lucas' face goes from red to purple as he tries another grab and again, Apollo just slips out of the way, like there's nothing to it at all.

"That's not going to work. I'm like water."

"What?" Lucas snorts. "You little shit."

Another grab, another miss. Apollo dances back, well out of snatching range.

"I'm warning you."

Lucas dives at him.

"Water can flow," Apollo sighs, "Or it can crash."

He spins on the ball of his foot and kicks, and his other foot connects with the side of Lucas' head. Lucas goes tumbling into the grass, clutching his ear, and curls into a ball. He tries to get up but just flounds and flops there, moaning and clutching his ear. The look on his face is shocking, somewhere between confusion and fear. Apollo takes my hand before I even realize he'd moved. His touch his soft, deceptively so considering what he just did. His fingers lace through mine.

"Come on," he says, very softly. "Let's go."

I walk back to the house with him in silence, leaving Lucas lie there. Apollo still has my hand.

I slip my fingers loose from his grip and stick my hand in my pocket. He does the same.

"What's up with him?"

"I'll be blunt. He wants to f*ck me. My mother has been egging him on."

"Uh, why?"

"Because," I sigh, blinking back the burning in my eyes. "To her I'm just a little doll to play with as she likes. I have to do everything her way, no matter what. I guess she wants me to have a star football player boyfriend. It doesn't matter that he's a lecherous creep and I can't stand him. She doesn't see things the way they are. She sees the way she wants it to be, and if reality doesn't fit her vision, reality is what's broken."

"You've been arguing with her."

"Yeah. I have to reply to admission letters by the end of the month. She wants me to go where she went, do what she did. I don't."

"Why not?"