The Moth and the Flame (When Rivals Play #2) - B.B. Reid Page 0,90

at what sounded like an invitation in my tone. If he heard, he didn’t let on. Sex should have been the last thing on my mind, but I couldn’t help wondering if it would serve as a much-needed distraction. After all, I had made a vow in that dark alley to finally steal the kiss I’d been wanting.

Those thoughts, however, were shattered when he said, “You will. I’ve got to figure out how to keep you alive.”

I gaped at him in disbelief. “You’re going to leave me alone in a strange town and in an even stranger house to go running back to that sadistic bastard?”

“What do you want me to do, Lou? He has a price on your head that could buy anyone in the city!”

“Which means you belong here with me! You can’t protect me from another city.”

“Watch me.”

Crossing my arms, I stuck out my hip. “If you don’t have to stay, then neither do I.”

He took a threatening step forward. “Oh, you’ll stay. Even if I have to chain you to the bed.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

His dry chuckle had my lips tightening. “If you believe that, then you don’t know me at all.”

I gestured around the house that looked to be straight out of a Disney storybook. “Clearly, I don’t know you at all!”

“You’re staying, Lou.”

“You’re in for a rude awakening, Harlan.”

My threat sank in, and a silent battle of wills commenced. It was all I could do not to jump in the air when he cursed and followed it with, “Two days.”

“Three,” I countered.

“One.”

“Okay, two,” I quickly conceded.

His lips twitched, and for a moment, I thought our friendship might survive until he said, “I’m surprised you want me around since you don’t know if you can trust me.”

And then he left me alone, feeling gutted.

Everything before waking up in Wren’s car and after getting cornered in that alley came rushing back all at once, and I didn’t get the chance to wonder why I’d blocked it out before shame overcame me. I’d screamed at Wren, accused him, and when hurting him emotionally didn’t work, I tried to take his head off before running from him.

Wren hadn’t said a word until now, and I finally understood why he was angry with me. Well, I was angry, too, so two could play that game.

I don’t know how long I stood where he left me before my legs felt strong enough to use. The house was silent, making me wonder if Wren had left me here or if he’d disappeared somewhere to brood alone. My pride wouldn’t allow myself to chase after him.

The open concept allowed me to see the dining and living room from where I stood in the kitchen. The large wall—also pink—adjacent to the maple dining table was a mural of framed photos and mementos, and it drew me to it.

The first to catch my eye was the photo of a beautiful girl with raven hair like mine smiling so sweetly at the camera in her green cap and gown. An older, stern-looking man stood next to her holding a sign that read Class of ’93. She was flanked by a tiny, jolly woman who I knew had to be her mother. The resemblance was glaring, although she stood a few inches taller than her mother. She’d clearly inherited her height from her father.

With an urge to know who this girl was, I forced my gaze away from the photo seeking more happy memories but found an obituary instead.

Pamela Harlan had only been thirty-two when she died. I was already beginning to realize the significance of who she was and why I felt connected to her when I saw the photograph of her smiling and holding a little boy on her hip. He had dark hair, bright blue eyes that seemed to have dimmed with time, and a happy smile that rivaled her own.

I knew instantly who the little boy was.

He couldn’t have been more than a few months old, but I could pick Wren out of a crowd from space.

He had chubby cheeks, and his hair was a bit curlier then, a complete contrast to his hard edge and the dark cloud that kept anyone from venturing too close. Until now, I thought I’d been the only one who dared.

There were more pictures, but none of them included Wren’s father, who was still a mystery even after saving me. The next photo to capture my attention was a picture of Wren, maybe a couple of years