Knox doesn’t say a word as he takes a long drag of his cigarette.

I feel so stupid for confiding in him. I should have known better. “Forget it. I don’t expect someone like you to understand.”

“Aspen,” he barks when I head for the staircase.

“What?”

When I turn to look at him, I see he’s already charging toward me.

I take a step back, but he takes a step forward, cornering me into the wall.

His dark gaze lingers on my mouth as he trails a finger down my cheek. I flinch because the gesture is so gentle and I’m not used to that from him.

“What are you doing?” I question.

“You told me I could have whatever I wanted earlier.”

My pulse quickens when he fists my hair, drawing me closer.

His breath brushes my lips. It’s a teasing whisper of a caress that has my nipples pebbling under my t-shirt.

My eyes flutter closed and I part my lips…waiting for him to kiss me.

But he doesn’t.

And for reasons I can’t explain…I almost need him to.

“That right there.” His voice is gruff. Taunting. “That’s exactly what I wanted.”

I shove at his chest. “You’re an asshole.”

He laughs as I march toward the stairs, but then it comes to an abrupt halt and his tone goes serious.

“Stray?”

“What?”

“Leave my father alone. The less you piss him off, the better. For everyone.”

Chapter 23

Aspen

A little over a week has passed since they found Candi’s body and apparently people are over it, because no one is talking about it anymore.

She’s officially forgotten.

I stab at my mac and cheese as the clatter in the lunchroom picks up.

“Are you okay?” Brie asks, looking equally down.

“I’m fine.” Stab. Stab. Stab. “Okay. Not really.”

“Want to talk about it?”

Not really, but I find myself doing so anyway.

“Where do I begin?” I start ticking things off with my fingers. “The fact that no one cares about the girl who was murdered? Or that I still haven’t heard back from any colleges…including Stanford, which I have my heart set on.”

She winces, and it’s enough to let me know that she most likely heard back from tons of colleges already, and I’m screwed.

I place my fork down since I’m probably starting to resemble a homicidal maniac and I don’t want to scare her. “I’m also supposed to put together a stupid prom committee and—” I stop talking and eye her hopefully. “Do you want to be on it?”

She shakes her head profusely. “No, thanks.”

Yeah, I didn’t think so, but still. Can’t blame a girl for trying.

“I don’t want to be on it either. Hell, I’m not sure if I’m even going to prom.”

“Well, if you’re running the committee, I think you kind of have to,” she points out.

Yeah…she’s right.

Which means I have to get a dress and shoes.

I place my palm to my forehead and groan when I realize.

Brie’s eyes widen. “What?”

“Nothing.”

Except…I can’t even bring my boyfriend to prom because he’s forty-eight years old and married.

“Ever wish you could press reset on your life and have a do-over?”

She snorts. “I used to all the time.”

The bell rings and she stands. “I gotta go. My next class is all the way on the other side of the building and I still have to stop at my locker.”

I smile as she walks off. Brie’s been more talkative lately and coming out of her shell a little. If I had to guess why, I’d say it might have something to do with her boyfriend, Colton.

At least it’s something positive.

Well, aside from Whiskers.

According to Knox, she’s overstaying her welcome, but I think he kind of enjoys having her around, too.

The other day I noticed a small litter box next to her blanket and since I didn’t buy it for her, it must have been him.

Grabbing my lunch tray so I can throw it in the trash, I get up from the table.

My next class is History, and it’s my favorite…mostly because I get to stare at Mr. Donati and his gorgeous blue eyes for forty whole minutes.

I do a quick sweep of the classroom as I walk in. My stomach drops when I pass by Shadow’s desk and notice she’s still absent.

The last time I saw her was when she was hysterically crying on my front lawn.

I’ve tried bringing it up to Knox, but he said it wasn’t his responsibility to keep tabs on the bitches he screws.

He’s a real class act.

Shoulders sagging, I take a seat at my desk and whip out my history textbook.

I pull up the Uber app on my phone and tip the driver before I step out of the car. I normally try to save my money, but Knox came up to my locker after school ended and said he had something to do so he couldn’t give me a ride home today.

Given he looked like he was in a rush, I didn’t press him about it.

The house is quiet when I walk inside and place my knapsack down in the mudroom.

“Trent, is that you?” my mother calls out from upstairs.

“Nope. It’s me.”

Your daughter who you couldn’t care less about if you tried.

My eyes land on the half-empty bottle of wine on the island in the kitchen.

Surprise, surprise.

I bet if I turned myself into a bottle of merlot, she’d finally pay attention to me.

Stuffing those feelings down, I pick up the pile of mail on the counter and shuffle through it.

I freeze when I see one addressed to me. From Stanford.

It’s thick. Thick is good, right?

My hands are shaking so badly, I almost drop the envelope on the floor as I open it.

I close my eyes, silently praying to whatever God exists that I got in, because I’ve wanted this for so long.

I feel like I’m going to faint the moment I see the words, congratulations and scholarship.

I did it.

I worked my ass off for years, trying to reach this one goal, and it finally happened.

My heart squeezes. I miss my dad.

Despite his mistakes, I know how much he wanted this for me, too.