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“Don’t give me that shit. Something is up with you. You’ve been acting… strange for the last few weeks,” Enzo says.

I pivot on my heel to face him. “My boyfriend dumped me.”

Enzo’s eyes go wide. “When the fuck did you get a boyfriend?” he asks, taking the pistol from my hand and placing it on the bench behind me.

“For a few months.” I shrug. “But I did something he didn’t like too much and he dumped me.”

“Well, he’s not worth it then. What’s his name?” The question comes out as casually as if he were asking me for the time. I’m not that stupid though.

“Nice try. You’re not going to find out.”

“Is he from school?”

“Enzo, drop it,” I growl, reaching for the pistol behind him.

My brother wraps his arms around me, trapping me against his chest. “I’m sorry. What can I do to make you feel better?”

“Let me shoot. I’m going to be fine. He’s going to realize the error of his ways soon and come back to me anyway.” I smile.

“Aurora, that’s… Do Mom and Pops know?”

“Yes.”

“Why am I always the last to know anything?”

“You’re not. Lorenzo doesn’t know.” I smile up at Enzo. “Kyla does, though.”

“What did you do?” my brother says, catching me off guard.

“Huh?”

“The thing you did that this jerk didn’t like. What was it?” Enzo clarifies.

“I killed his cousin.”

My brother’s eyes widen again. “Yeah, I can see how that might put a strain on a relationship.”

About thirty seconds later, Enzo stares at me with an inquisitive look on his face, and then he shakes his head.

“What?” I ask him.

“An Irish kid from your school was killed a few weeks back,” he says.

“I know.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, no.” He shakes his head again. “Does Pops knowwhoyou were dating?”

“No, and you’re not going to tell him. Or anyone. Sibling confidentiality and all, Enzo. I mean it.” I point at him.

“I won’t tell, but you are not seeing some Irish fucking scum again either,” he grunts, disgust written all over his face.

“He isn’t scum.” I’m tempted to kick my brother in the shins right now. That’s gotta be better than shooting him, right?

Chapter Twenty-Eight

She’s lost whatever was left of her goddamn fucking mind. What the fuck was she thinking breaking into my house? Coming into my room? And how the hell did I sleep through it all?

I dreamed I could smell her. I woke up smelling her and thought it was just left over from my dream. Nope, my whole fucking room smells like her perfume. If that didn’t make itobvious she was here, it became real clear when I walked into the bathroom and saw the shit she drew on my mirror.