“How’s your mom and dad?” Mrs. Collins asks.

“Good.” Another parent–teacher conference later and Mrs. Collins learned from John that Jax, Kaden and I are living with him. I respect her because CPS didn’t show at the gym to drag any of us away. “Actually, they’re doing very good.”

Mom found work. Nothing spectacular, but something better than what she was doing here. Maggie’s made friends at her new school and is being spoiled by my great-aunt, and my dad...

My dad joined a gym. I smile when I think of our conversation last night on the phone.

“I’m proud of you,” he had said. “For staying home. For trying again.”

“Thanks,” I responded. “Is it true? Mom said you’re fighting again?”

Dad laughed and that sweet sound healed wounds that were still open. “No tournaments in my future, but, yeah, I joined one. Your old man is slow and this body creaks more than it should, but it feels good to move. It feels good to be useful.”

Dad’s healing and it will probably be a while before he’s totally on his feet. Being in the gym isn’t a perfect solution, but it’s the start of one.

“Is there anything else you’d like to discuss?” Mrs. Collins asks.

I fiddle with the straps of my backpack, smoothing them out on my lap to see if one is longer than the other. “My mom said once if you say something out loud that it takes the power away from it. Do you think that’s true?”

Her features smooth out. “Yes. I one hundred percent agree with your mother.”

Definitely food for thought. “Thanks again.”

“If you ever need anything, Haley, I’m here.”

I smile at her as I leave. If I had a dollar for every time she’s said those words to me, I’d be a very rich girl. The May afternoon is definitely short weather and I’ve got some holey jeans screaming to be cut. After my shift at the pizza place, I’m finding a pair of scissors.

My heart warms when all three guys in my life laugh as Jax breaks down a sparring session he had yesterday, but I only have eyes for West. His bruises from the fight have faded and he’s back to drop-dead, stop-my-heart gorgeous.

He has dinner with his family four to five times a week and pays Isaiah’s foster parents fifty dollars a month to sleep on the couch in their basement. Last week, he watched his sister, Rachel, take her first steps. Since then he’s been flying high.

I’ve been to dinner with West at his family’s house a few times and it’s a strange combination of people at the table between West’s family, Rachel’s boyfriend, Abby and then me. It’s awkward for all of us, except for Abby. Because of that, we all sit back and let her do the talking.

Heat curls in my belly when West flashes me a smile. “Took you long enough.”

“I’ve got options,” I tell him. “She gave me lots of options.”

West kisses my forehead and runs his fingers through my hair. Tiny goose bumps form along my neck and I wish for the millionth time we could be alone.

Jax makes a gagging sound and I stick my tongue out at him.

“Real mature, Hays.” Yet he sticks his out in return.

West rests an arm around my shoulder and tucks me close to him. We have a half hour before the city bus, so they resume their conversation. The side door to the building opens and Conner walks out with Matt behind him. My eyes lock with Matt’s and I shiver from the coldness inside me.

He won, but he lost. It wasn’t the beating he’d hoped for and, according to the rumors at school, it’s driven him harder at the gym. It really is a waste. West and I have changed so much, learned so much and Matt is where he was before—in denial over his brother and over his own emotional instability.

“It’s over,” West whispers into my ear. “Everything between Matt and me is over.”

They hate each other and I imagine they always will, but neither will street brawl. This will become a rivalry in the cage. Matt and I have digressed to these moments of him staring at me as he passes by and me quietly panicking.

“I know.” But maybe I don’t. I’m still drawn to look at him to make sure he’s not stalking up to hurt me from behind.

“He’s not going to hurt you, either,” West says softly as he notices where my attention still lies. “I promise you—it’s over.”

I shift and West drops his arm. The three of them stop their conversation and survey me like I’ve grown antlers and a red nose. West takes my fingers and rubs his thumb over my hand. Typically that touch weakens my knees, but right now, I’m full of angst and panic and all I can think about is returning to the building. “I’ll be back, okay?”

West glances at my family, then back at me. “Do you want me to come with you?”

“No,” I say way too quickly. This is one of the things West hates—when I live inside my head. It’s also one of the things that drove me away from my family. “I’ve got to talk to Mrs. Collins about something. Just...talk.”

“All right.” He squeezes my hand and lets me go.

I sprint into the building and down the hall. The teachers lock their doors behind them and I pray Mrs. Collins hasn’t bolted. In the main office, one secretary is already gone and the other one holds her purse. “Can I help you?”

I don’t say anything as I skid to a halt in the doorframe of Mrs. Collins’s office. My heart pounds and my chest moves rapidly with my breaths. Mrs. Collins has her car keys in one hand and a bundle of folders in the other. She’s leaving. I’m too late.