Bully stepbrother

70. Three words that could change everything

CADEN

I have my journal on my lap at a campus café after a workout session at the nearby gym. You'd think I'm studying, but if you know me, you know it's the old journal I've had for eight years. Only this time I'm not putting down what I normally do in it, that is, questions for my mother about why she left me, or strategies for keeping Mad to myself. Instead, I'm writing on a new page about things I'd like to do, just like Reagan suggested.

She says listing them will help keep me occupied when I'm not busy, and that it will clear my thoughts from plotting any ulterior motives, like murder, though she doesn't know about that part. I just hope this helps, or else Kane will be six feet under very soon.

"There's a party at the frat tonight. Let's go have some fun. Everyone's been asking about you," Paxton says from the chair next to mine.

I hear him, but I don't reply. I'm trying not to talk, to keep from forgetting the mental list I'm pasting down in my journal.

"Dude?" He kicks my leg. I groan in annoyance and shoot him a warning glare.

"Don't you have a girl? What will she think about you partying?" I throw back, refocusing on my list. Maybe I should write down a concert. I'm not the type for that, but I can see Mad actually liking it.

"Oh, she is my girl." He grins, and I physically cringe at him saying that. "Don't look at me like that. I think a man like me is finally ready to settle down." He sighs dreamily, and my whole face winces.

"Well, you settle quickly. And for that to even happen, you have to be a one-woman man, which a man at parties isn't." I toss back, surveying my list of optimism. "So your girl deserves better," I adds.

"Oh man, I wish you had a drop of knowledge that relationships are fun. You don't have to close yourself off from our world." He laughs, and his words only grate on my ears.

I ignore him and wave at the barista for another coffee, just as Pax's laughter shifts into his I-found-something-fun laugh. For some reason, I don't like it one bit. Maybe because I don't want any distractions pulling me away from my list.

"Nice. Never knew that baby face tailing your stepsister has some moves."

Hearing him mention Mad freezes me, mostly because she's associated with someone else in that sentence.

"What was that?" I shoot him a glare, already imagining blood.

He throws his hands up. "Just saying. Never knew he was approved. But taking her to L.A. for a game? That's not bad."

"What are you on about?" I shake my head, and his face smooths from its smirk, like he realizes he's messed up.

"You didn't know?" he asks, regret dawning in his eyes.

And I'd like to know now.

I don't wait, I shoot to my feet and snatch his phone. The moment I see the picture on the screen, I forget the difference between colors, the distinction of sounds, or what self-control I have left.

Someone is kissing my Mad. Those lips I still feel on mine after our dinner that I thought went well.

But in the fog of my incense, I recognize my target, that innocent, always helpful, always there like a good friend, jerk. It was all a scheme, though, he played me while I thought he was the last person to make a move on Mad.

"Oh, I'll kill you, Ariel boy, you little snake." He will not live another day.

I shove people out of my way as I storm out of the café. It's too quiet around me; no one seems to push back. I'd call them cowards, but Paxton is probably already apologizing on my behalf. All I need is to reach my car. Nothing feels right in me and around me. The world is spinning under my feet.