Collared(4)

Guilt’s a strange thing—how it strangles the life out of people. Mr. Costigan was the one who died that night, but Caden has been dying a slow death of his own ever since.

Not that that earns him much sympathy in my book, because Caden’s a prick. The leader of them. He was before his dad died and has become an even bigger one since.

“If it isn’t my little brother who seriously saved my ass today,” Caden announces to the kitchen filled with a half dozen of his loser friends. You know the ones who showed up to first period either drunk or hungover most days? The ones who couldn’t fill a thimble with honor between all of them?

Caden was supposed to graduate last year, but he failed so many of his classes that he has to redo his senior year, which really sucks since that puts all three of us in a bunch of the same classes.

“Thanks for taking the fall for me, Torrin. I owe you.” Caden holds his hand above his head, waiting for Torrin to smack it.

Torrin’s hand tightens around mine instead, and his other stays stuffed into his back pocket. “You can pay me back by not drinking on school property again and leaving a trail of beer cans that lead up to my tailgate.”

I stiffen. I’d heard that Torrin had told Principal Thierry that the beer cans were his, but I hadn’t heard that Caden had pretty much left a trail of Natty Light crumbs to Torrin’s truck. Coward.

“You got it, bro.” Caden waves a lazy salute, but by the glassy look of his eyes, it’s pretty damn clear he’s already downed another half case. “And sorry about you getting suspended from the team for five games. Thierry’s a serious hardass.”

I spin on Torrin, but my hand stays tied in his. “You got kicked off the soccer team?”

Behind me, Caden pops off a “Busted!” to his friends, which is followed by a few chuckles, but I don’t care. All I care about is Torrin. Soccer is his life—or at least a big part of it. He’s good at it too. He’s started every game since his sophomore year, and word is he’s in a good spot to land a solid scholarship if he keeps averaging two goals a game . . . which can’t happen if he has to sit on the bench for the next five.

I’m suddenly so pissed at Caden that I want to punch that smirk off of his face. Even though he kind of looks like Torrin, except for his eyes being dark brown and his body being more stocky than lean, I can’t help but feel murderous things when I look at him.

“I was going to tell you.” Torrin looks right into my eyes. He doesn’t blink. “I just got kinda . . . distracted.” His cheeks color just a little. He’s lost most of his tan from the summer, so it’s more obvious.

“You two were up in your bedroom for a good two hours, and I can make out the sweet sound of a mattress bouncing from a mile away.” Caden fires off a wink at Torrin. “I bet you were a little distracted, brother.”

Torrin’s hand tightens around mine, his eyes narrowing at Caden.

“You’re a dick, Caden.” I face him and step closer. Caden’s a classic coward, and you don’t back down from a coward when they throw a punch—you throw one right back. “Grow up and own up. Stop letting your little brother do it for you.”

Torrin tries pulling me back to him. When that doesn’t work, he steps up beside me. He knows better than to move in front of me or angle his body in that direction. The last time he tried that, we got into a serious fight. I get that he has this instinct to protect me, but he has to get that I can protect myself. He has to understand that it’s my job, not his, to look after me. He’s getting there. Slowly, but he is.

“Ahh, Jade.” Caden crosses his arms over his big barrel chest. His eyes move down me. “You kiss my brother with that filthy mouth?” He tips his chin at Torrin. “Lucky guy.”

Torrin flinches, but he stays where he is. I can tell it’s almost killing him to let me handle this on my own.

I raise an unimpressed brow at Caden. “Bite me.”

Caden snaps his teeth together a few times. “I’d love to. Right in that nice round ass of yours.” He chomps his teeth together once more. “Are you tapping that yet, Torrin? Or is she still holding out on you?”

Caden drops his hand on Torrin’s shoulder. Torrin shrugs out of it and pulls me back with him. I decide to overlook the manhandling moment.

“That girl’s never going to marry you, little brother, so you might as well take what you can as many times as you can get it.”

An angry shudder rocks Torrin’s body. The muscle running down his jaw looks ready to snap.

“Why don’t you go drink yourself into a coma, Caden?” I pull Torrin back a few steps because I don’t have a lot of faith that this isn’t going to turn into brawl if Caden doesn’t shut his trap before I get Torrin out the front door. “You’d be a lot more useful.”

Something flashes in Caden’s eyes, then he slams his bottle on the counter. I keep pulling Torrin out of the kitchen. From the look on Caden’s face, I know this will drop from ugly to violent in a few more words. Distance is a good thing. Especially when it comes to flailing body parts and compacted fists.

Caden sniffs. “And you’d be a lot more useful if you shut your mouth and opened your legs instead.”

Torrin lunges toward Caden, but I was expecting it. I have just a solid enough hold on him to keep him from getting too far. “Torrin, stop. He’s just trying to get under your skin. Not worth it.”