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CHAPTER

SIXTY-FIVE

REMI

“Let me get this straight,” Sloane says as we stand around Cortland’s truck. His arm is around me, and I’m leaning against the passenger door. I had three stitches in my ribs, which isn’t too bad considering, but the questions from the doctor were the worst.

I told him I didn’t remember what happened because Chase McGowan was a few rooms down from me, and he wasn’t speaking either about his injuries. Of which I’m told there were many.

We both kept our silence. Him, because he’s a coward, and me, because unlike all the other times I hurt myself, this time it wasn’t from hate.

Just like I jumped from the truck and leapt over the hood, it was because despite how I should or shouldn’t feel, I’m in love with the boy at my side.

“You set Chase McGowan’s house on fire, while his mom, sick with cancer and on oxygen , was inside it?”

Van has his arms folded over his chest, his chin dipped down as he stares at Cortland, and Sloane shifts her gaze from me, to Cort, her face pale with those words. She ran in after Greg McGowan stumbled out.

She threw her arms around me, took in the tense atmosphere between Van and Cortland, and they both walked out a second.

I don’t know what they said, but nothing seems to have changed between them except unlike last night, Van isn’t trying to rip me away from Cort, at my side.

Cortland squeezes me tighter. “No,” he says. “I didn’t set his house on fire.”

A smile pulls at my lips as I stare up at him and find him looking down at me, his eyes gleaming. “I would never do something like that.”

Sloane scoffs. “Okay, then I need some clarification because when Remi went over your exchange , it seems that’s what?—”

“I know you don’t like me very much Sloane,” Cortland continues, turning his gaze to my best friend.

She doesn’t disagree with him, her arms folded over her chest as she arches a brow, her blonde hair piled high on her head.

“And believe me, not a day goes by that I don’t think about what I did.”

I chew the inside of my cheek, leaning further into Cort, inhaling his cedar scent.

“I’ve tried my best to make up for it.”

Van shakes his head, but he doesn’t say anything.

“But I’m not the only one who needed to pay.”

Heat rolls through my body even in the cold November air.

Cortland brings me closer to him, then he presses a kiss to my head.

“Chase got his payment in last night,” he says, still holding Sloane’s gaze. “But Brinklin and Storm... they did their atonement this morning.”

Sloane’s face drains of color all over again.

“When they set that fucking house on fire.”

Van drops his hands by his sides, dipping his chin, his brows hitting his hairline.

“Chase’s mom is fine,” Cort assures them, although it doesn’t sound like an assurance so much as a resignation. “But the message was sent.” Cortland pulls me in front of him, so my back is against his chest as he wraps both arms around me, holding me close. “No one fucks with my girl. Not anymore.”