“Fuck.” Ella has to testify against her father, Steve O’Halloran, in his upcoming trial. I hadn’t realized that was approaching, but I guess the February trial date isn’t too far away.

“Exactly.” He hands me a slip of paper. “I’ve obtained permission for you to skip school for the rest of this week and possibly the next, depending on how long this transaction takes.” He zips closed his flight bag.

“Skip school?” I need to be at Astor to protect Hartley. “I’ve already missed the last two weeks.”

Dad tilts his head. “Who are you and what have you done with my school-hating son, Easton?”

I shift uncomfortably under his fatherly gaze. I can’t tell him why I need to go to school in case he’s got a hate-on for Hartley like Sawyer does. “I don’t hate school. I just choose not to go some days because I’ve got better things to do.”

“And this week you have better things to do.” He claps his hand on my shoulder. “Ordinarily, I wouldn’t trust you to be responsible for a minute, let alone a week, but these are your brothers and I know you love them.” He grabs his bag and walks briskly out into the foyer where Durand, his driver, waits. “Make sure Sawyer’s eating and getting some rest. Call me if there’s any change in Sebastian’s condition, and be there for Ella if she needs a shoulder to cry on. I’ll see you in less than a week.” He gives me a salute and takes off.

Fuck.

I grab my phone and text Hartley.

Change of plans. My dad’s flying out to Dubai and I need to go check in on my brothers. If you see Ella, go in with her.

I re-read my text and realize Hart may not know who the hell Ella is. I find a picture of her and Reed hanging all over each other and send that.

I don’t get a response. I wait three seconds and send another text.

Or Val. She’s solid.

I return to my photo roll, find a picture of Ella, Val, Reed and me out by the pool last summer. I crop out Reed and myself and send Hart the modified image.

Ella’s the blonde. Val’s the one with the bob and the mole.

Still nothing. I glance at the clock. Do I have time to drive over to Hart’s house, pick her up and drop her off? I decide I do if I hurry.

I drop my bowl off on the marble table in the entryway and hurry to the kitchen where I left my backpack. Ella’s there eating a yogurt and fruit.

“Where are you going?” she asks.

“Hartley’s, Astor, and then the hospital.”

“Hartley? Is that a good idea, Easton? Shouldn’t you wait until you see if Seb wakes up?”

I swing around to confront Ella. “What are you talking about? The accident wasn’t her fault.”

“I know that, but Sawyer is hating on her right now. I don’t think it’s good for him to know that you’re hanging around with her.”

“Then don’t tell him,” I say, irked by Ella’s position.

“But—”

I ignore her complaints and jog to the door. I don’t need to hear that stuff, especially not after I told Hartley to walk in with Ella and Val. All the more reason to drop Hartley off and make sure she gets inside the school okay.

After that…fuck, I don’t know what to do after that. Maybe I can convince Hartley to skip and come to the hospital with me. But then where do I put her? Sawyer will blow up if he sees her.

This is a fucking mess and I don’t have a good solution. I’ll figure it out when I get to her house.

I’m coming to pick you up, I shoot off. Tossing the phone on the passenger seat, I power up the truck and head for Hartley’s. I check for a response when I reach the gate at the end of my lane and then again at the stoplight a mile down and then again at the intersection near her house, but I see zero replies.

When I reach her house, I debate whether I should go in. Her father hates my guts. There’s a fifty/fifty chance he’s at work. I’ve gambled on way worse odds, I decide. I hop out of the truck and hurry up the front walk. At this rate, Hart’s going to be late for school.

I take the stairs in two leaps and press the doorbell. It rings and a few seconds later, I see a figure through one of the glass panes. The door swings open to reveal Mrs. Wright. Shit.

Her mouth drops open. “Easton Royal?”

I give her my brightest, winningest smile that makes nuns want to pinch my cheeks and mothers want to fuck me. “Yup. I’m here to pick Hartley up.”

The door slams in my face.

“Go away and don’t ever show your face here again,” I hear through the heavy wooden door.

I’ve never been good with orders. I pound on the door. “I told Hart that I’d pick her up.”

“She’s already at school. It started ten minutes ago. Now leave or I’ll call the police!” Hartley’s mom yells. “My husband is an assistant district attorney. He will put you in jail!”

I swallow a sigh and drag a hand through my hair. This day is a clusterfuck and it’s not even eight am.

Chapter 11

Hartley

I stick my thumbs under the straps of my backpack and smile and nod to everyone. I feel like I’ve been thrown back to kindergarten, stumbling off the bus without my mother’s hand in mine and wading past the legs of the teachers and older students, searching for a friendly face—any friendly face. Easton said to wait for him, but I’ve been standing on the curb for what feels like forever.