This Fearless Girl (St. Clary's University #2) - E. M. Moore Page 0,43

house, and when I say we, I mainly mean me. The guys had used them before, but I never had. They were one of the tools on my father’s wish list that he simply didn’t have the money for.

On Thursday, a much smaller package arrived. Wyatt tried to hide its contents from me, but this morning, I caught him in his room slipping bullets into the chamber of a gun.

Apprehension clung on my shoulders all day. Don’t get me wrong, we need the gun, but it makes me think about the possible predators we might find in the mountains. My father and I were always low-key, but the Jacobses shout their whereabouts to the world. With the Dragons watching us, I’m not sure what kind of crazy shit we might run into up there. And that’s not even counting the natural predators.

Treasure hunting isn’t for the faint of heart. Hell, the Superstitions aren’t for the faint of heart.

So as much as part of me yearns to be up there, I also value the quiet moments with Stone, Wyatt, and Lucas. The ones where we aren’t planning, sleuthing, or talking about the mountains. We’re just being normal.

Lately though, those moments are few and far between. After reviewing tomorrow’s schedule, I follow Wyatt into his room. When the door doesn’t close behind him, he peers over his shoulder. “Hey, Tits. Did you finally decide you wanted to ride a cowboy?”

I narrow my eyes at him. Wyatt likes to use humor for deflection. “I need to know that you’re okay,” I tell him, cutting to the chase. “We can’t afford to have to pick up your slack.”

His face pinches. “I’m fine.”

“I’m not trying to be mean.”

“Listen, Stone’s already given me the rundown. I’m well aware of what we’re getting ourselves into. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“It would be better if you didn’t go if you think you can’t handle it.”

“I know!” he yells.

I flinch. Wyatt looks away, throwing his cowboy hat on the nightstand. “I’m supposed to be the one protecting you—all of you,” he clarifies.

“There’s no harm in staying behind,” I try again, softer this time.

He shakes his head. “That’s where you’re wrong. Lucas and Stone need me. We’re a family. I won’t let them down.”

“Okay….” I hesitate, letting his words sink into me. “You know I actually didn’t mean to make you upset. I’m only worried.”

He lets out a breath. “We all are.” He sits on his bed, then meets my gaze again. “You can count on me, too, you know? I’m fucking damaged goods to a lot of people, but one thing I take care of is my friends.”

I’ve seen glimpses of Wyatt’s damage and, to me, it’s far more interesting than the armor he wears. Not that I can blame him for covering up his past. Getting sucked into the Jacobs’ world makes everything else seem dimmer.

“Lay with me?” he asks.

He strips his shirt off, giving me a glimpse of his side. He’s not wearing a bandage anymore, and the scar is raw and new, but it’s not affecting his movements from what I can see. I crawl behind him and get in our usual positions. Wyatt and I have been doing this every other night. Each morning, I feel his hands tighten around me when he wakes, and he lies there for a few minutes. His soft breaths fill the air until he finally gets up, slipping out of the room unnoticed. At least, that’s what he thinks.

I don’t know what kind of shit happened to Wyatt. He holds onto his scars too tightly.

He lays down, and I stroke his hair. Instead of his usual routine of falling asleep right away, he stays awake, staring at the ceiling as my fingers brush against the bump on his skull over and over. I don’t even pay it any mind now even though I’m bursting with questions.

“You know, you’re unlike any girl I’ve ever met.”

I smirk. “Thank you, I think?”

“No, it’s a definite compliment.”

“Maybe you just haven’t met the right kind of women?”

He scoffs. “Like Rissa?” He pitches his voice high. “Or her mother who thinks her precious daughter can do no wrong?” He pauses for a little while. “Or even Stone’s mom?”

Oh yes, how could I forget stepmother dearest? I have so many conflicting emotions over her that I try not to think about it. She stole my dad’s money, yet she’s being held by Lance. One wrong doesn’t wash away the other. That also doesn’t include