“Not only will she lose if she races with the Boss,” he goes on, “but she’ll also probably take out every other car, trying to make those turns. Now, can you please explain that to my daughter in a way that she understands, because every time I try it’s like I’m talking to a wall?”

And then he shoots Dylan a pointed look before turning around and walking away.

Dylan just stands there silently until I glance at her out of the corner of my eye. “So you got all that, right?”

“Shut up.”

I snort, and she folds her arms over her chest, pouting.

“You’re just nervous, and you want a familiar car,” I soothe, turning toward her. “You’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, better listen to Daddy like a good little girl,” Kade teases. He and his brother walk around us to stand in front of her.

“Leave her alone, Kade,” Hunter says.

But Kade just shoots him a cocky grin and turns his eyes back on Dylan, lowering his voice. “She can handle me.”

Hunter shakes his head, while Dylan stares at Kade, looking defiant. He’s always pushed her and teased her, and she always rises to meet the challenges he throws down. Like he sets the pace and she needs to try to keep up.

I don’t like the way he eggs her on and constantly makes her feel like she needs to prove herself.

I doubt his twin likes it, either. They often fight, and Dylan’s usually not far from the root of the problem.

Kade twists around with a gloating little smile on his face and walks to the bleachers where his friends are sitting. A girl hops down from the stands and slinks her arms around his neck, and he holds her hips, kissing her long and slow and putting on a nice show for everyone.

I wince, turning my eyes away. I’ve absorbed enough family bedroom knowledge for one day, thank you.

But then I see Dylan staring in his direction, her eyes pained.

Hunter watches her and then shakes his head, turning around to leave.

“Hunter?” she calls, stopping him.

He spins back around, looking agitated. “Yeah, what?”

She fidgets with her hands and stares at him, wincing a little. “I’m nervous.”

He breathes out a quiet laugh, like he understands completely.

Walking up to her, he pulls his iPod out of his jeans’ pocket and yanks out the cord to his headphones that hang around his neck, and hands her the iPod.

“War playlist,” he instructs. “Track five.”

She lets out a relieved breath and smiles. “Thanks.”

He nods, letting his gaze linger on her for a moment. Reaching out, he tips her chin up. “You’re Dylan Trent. They’re scared of you. Don’t forget that.”

She gives him a shaky smile and inhales a deep breath, squaring her shoulders again. “Got it.”

He turns and heads to the bleachers, sitting next to Hawke, on the opposite side from Kade and his friends. Hunter is on the football team with Hawke and his brother, but he always sits apart, separate from everyone else.

“So how’s that book going?” Dylan asks.

I glance over at her, remembering she left off after the kitchen floor scene.

She’d missed a lot, and my mind turns back to everything I’ve read tonight.

I’m confused about my mother and father’s relationship. I keep trying to remember how they are now, solid and happy. It’s hard to wrap my head around how much of a life everyone—my parents, Jared, Madoc, Jax—had before I was born.

My mom and dad eventually got their shit together. I’ve yet to finish the book, so I’m not sure how. But I hate their stupid choices and having to readjust everything I thought I knew about them. Also, I still have no clue who sent the book to me—or why it’s important to them that I know the backstory to my parents’ marriage. Is someone trying to stir shit up?

I also hate how I felt everything Kat was feeling. The uncertainty, the fear, the desire to stay with what’s familiar even if you’re miserable . . . the powerlessness.

I can relate.

“She’s so weak,” I finally admit, noticing the hint of self-hate in my voice. “She scheduled her entire life around him. Barely existed without him or had any interests or hobbies outside of him. He held her entire happiness in his hands.”

Dylan leans back on her Silvia, the car her dad is making her race tonight, and stares ahead.

“It’s not so unusual, is it?” she responds in a thoughtful tone. “How much we invest in wanting one person’s love? In wanting them near and for them to think of us?”

I notice she’s looking over at Kade’s group, and it occurs to me that maybe I’m not the only one relating.

“No, it’s not unusual,” I agree. “I think too many people give others too much power over them. But if they’re not missing you or thinking about you or wanting to be near you, then it’s time to realize you’re worth someone who does.”

We stand there, the chaos of the crowds and music around us a distant hum as the conversation hangs in the air.

Lucas clearly forgot we all existed back here, and Kade uses Dylan like a pet puppy, enticing her to learn tricks for his amusement.

Dylan shivers and blows out a breath. “Well, that was deep,” she jokes and turns to me. “All right, you’re with me, right?”

I laugh. “No. I have zero interest.”

I don’t like the way she drives when she’s not racing, so she can do this without me riding shotgun.