Branded (Fall of Angels #1)(12)

“Yup.” I won’t let them change my mind. Not this time.

“Fuck no. That Indian’s nothing but trouble,” Danny says.

I come to a screeching halt and spin on my heels. “Stop talking about Brandon like he’s a bad guy. He’s been nothing but nice to me. Seems to me like you are the one causing all the trouble,” I say, pointing my finger at his chest. “I’m tired of y’all constantly controlling my every move. First with Derek, and now with Brandon. I’m not a little girl anymore. I don’t need anyone to protect me.” I turn and start walking again.

“Dad says we have to stay away from the Locklears,” Ben says.

It’s not just a warning. It almost sounds like a threat, and I don’t like it one bit.

“Do you hear me?” His voice is even louder this time, and they’re both still following me.

“Yeah, I hear you, but I don’t care. As long as you keep hiding shit from me, I’m gonna do what I wanna, and no one’s gonna stop me,” I say as I jump into my truck.

“Dixie … really?” Danny says, raising his brow.

“Yes, really,” I reply with a deadly stare.

I’m tired of their fucking games. They’re always playing with me, trying to keep me from making my own decisions. I know they mean well, but … fuck.

We used to have so much fun together, and now look at us. Fighting over who gets to hang out with who, everybody keeping secrets from each other. And on top of that, my own dad doesn’t even accept what I like and dislike. He wants me to help on the farm but won’t give me the same privileges as my own damn brothers.

“I’m done,” I say in spite. “See you later.” And I shut my door and drive off.





Chapter Six





Brandon



I stare up at the sky, wondering if the stars would ever disappear forever. If this would be the last time I could ever see them. Much like the reserve.

I sigh and take a drag of my smoke. High up here on the rooftop of the shop is the only place where the streetlights won’t block the view, and it’s the perfect place to cool down after work. That, and my papa would probably kill me if he saw me smoke, which is why I do it up here. It’s one of the only places he’s too afraid to come.

Whenever he yells out the window for me to come down, I simply put out the cig and chuck it down to the streets below. He’ll never know it was me.

Besides, it’s not like I do this often. Maybe once a week. Just to take the edge off things.

My papa would probably curse the shit out of me if he ever caught me. He’d blame the teenage hormones, like everything else these days. It’s as if we’ve only disconnected further since we moved here.

Sometimes I wish Ma was still here to be the ray of sunshine she always was. But the spirits wanted her to go to the underworld sooner than expected. Cancer’s a bitch.

Maybe that’s why my papa hates cigarettes so much.

He even refuses to smoke the pipe, despite it being tradition in culture. But he’d chastise me for not following traditions, like when we had to smear ash over our bodies and wear moccasins to prepare my ma’s body for burial. My papa didn’t want anyone else to do it, and I couldn’t say no.

God, that feels like such a long time ago.

I take another drag of my smoke to temper my emotions.

Papa always said never to cry—at least, not for Ma’s death—because it would stop her from passing over. But I guess that time’s long gone too.

“Hey …”

There’s a voice coming from down below. I push out the bud of my cig against the tiles of the roof and peek over the edge.

“Yeah, you there.”

It’s Dixie.

A beaming smile forms on my face.

Funny. No one’s ever spotted me up here. But of course, she does.

“Hey. What’s up?” I say.

“Nothing much. Can I come up there?” she asks, kicking her heels.

“Um … it’s a dangerous climb,” I say, scratching the back of my head. “There’s no window here so no other way up but the ladder.”

I don’t wanna sound mean, but it’s very high up, and it doesn’t have a railing. She could get severely hurt.

“It’s okay. I can handle it.” The wicked smile on her face makes my heart beat faster.

She grabs the ladder and immediately starts climbing without looking down. She’s steadfast and quick too. Before I know it, she’s reached the top of the building and crawls up to the roof. Courageous, if I say so myself.

“Whoa, that was fast,” I say as she walks up to where I’m sitting.

“I used to climb the trees in our backyard when I was little,” she explains, rubbing her lips. “Can I sit?”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” I say awkwardly, scooting up a bit to make room. “Be careful, the tiles are cold and wet.”

She snorts. “Can’t be as bad as the toilet seat in our bathroom with the windows open 24/7.”

Now I’m smiling too. This girl has a weird sense of humor, but I like it.

“So what are you doing up here?” she asks.

“Oh, nothing … just staring at the sky,” I reply. “Maybe trying to catch a UFO.”