Never His Girl (Kings of Cypress Prep #2) - Rachel Jonas Page 0,55
sisterly bond these two have going on is deadly.
“Listen, that post wasn’t what it looked like,” I rush to say. “I just want to come in and explain that to your sister. Please. She blocked my number so this is the only way I can reach her.”
Well, shit! Did I just tell the truth without being backed into a corner?
I’m not even sure I meant to until it spewed from my mouth, but from the way Scarlett’s expression is softening, I wonder if that didn’t just work.
She looks me up and down like the trash I imagine she thinks I am for hurting her sister, then I could kiss the kid’s feet when I hear that lock disengage. Only, when I reach for the security door, turns out that’s locked, too.
“Tell me why I should let you in,” she greets me through the wrought iron bars, pushing a faded pink ponytail behind her shoulder. Then, she tosses me the same chilled look her sister loves to hit me with.
I breathe into my hands because I left without a coat and it’s fucking freezing. So, I’m trying to ignore the cold while figuring out how to reason with a fourteen year-old girl.
“Because I’m a fu—”
Dude, you just acknowledged she’s only fourteen. Watch your damn mouth.
I take a breath and start again. “Because I’m a screw-up. I know it. Your sister knows it. It’s the whole reason we’re so dysfunctional. But I didn’t do what she thinks I did, Scarlett. I swear.”
She looks me up and down, crossing both arms over her unicorn t-shirt as she leans against the doorframe.
“And what else?” she asks, sounding only about half as bratty as Southside when she challenges me.
“And… I want to make things right,” I add. “I don’t like her being pissed at me for things I didn’t do.”
“What about the things you did do?”
What the hell! Is Southside selling a ‘Give Him Hell’ training course I don’t know about?
“I’m trying to fix that stuff, too,” I answer. “But I can’t do that from out here.”
She still isn’t budging and I’m starting to wonder if I would’ve had better luck with Blue answering. But then, right when I start doubting, Scarlett flips the lock on the security door and lets me step inside.
“You’ll have to wait a bit. She’s in the shower, but I’ll let her know you’re here.”
“No!” I say quickly. “I mean, it’s okay to say someone’s here, but don’t say who. Please.”
All I need is for Southside’s scrappy ass to hear my name and she’d climb out the bathroom window before I even get a word in.
Scarlett eyes me a few seconds, and then disappears around the corner. Not long after, I hear her pound on a door before yelling to let Southside know she has company.
The place is quiet, wreaking of pine-scented cleaner I can only guess is coming from the dark spot in the carpet. Where it looks like someone’s scrubbed the hell out of it. I’m guessing her dad’s here, but he hasn’t made himself known yet. Not that I’m complaining.
My nerves are fried, so I don’t bother trying to sit. Instead, I pace, using the time to glance around at family photos. Some nailed to the walls, others resting on top of aged furniture placed around the room.
I stop at one of a toothless Southside grinning up at the camera. She’s smiling, yeah, but she’s far from happy. Even back then, it looks like she carried the weight of the world on her shoulders. How that’s possible, I have no clue.
Moving down the line, I come to one of her when she’s a little older. Someone captured her braiding Scarlett’s hair, looking every bit as devoted to her then as she is now. The two share a bond that blows my mind, rivaling my own with Dane and Sterling. Here I was thinking we were close, but the Riley sisters have raised the bar to a whole new level.
I glance over at the next one, laying eyes on a woman who looks so much like Southside it confuses me at first. She’s hugging her three kids, and this is the only one I see where there’s genuine happiness. The smiles don’t look forced or temporary, although I know firsthand that they don’t last. Still, I imagine this is one of those moments Southside holds on to, an anchor moment—a memory that keeps us from getting swept away when life turns into a storm.