I rush forward again and a foot hooks against my calf and a hand grazes up my arm. In a flash, I’m in a free fall with my arm twisted behind my back. I grunt as my body crashes to the ground and Haley crouches beside me.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers in my ear. “I’m sorry. If you do this, he’ll kick us out. He might already and we have nowhere to go. Nowhere. I’m sorry. So sorry.”

Searching for freedom, I jerk and she releases me as the apology continues. Rising to my knees, the world shifts into slow motion as I glance at her brother, her cousin, then to her father.

Not one of them came to her defense. Haley’s uncle hovers over me. “Get off my property. If you come back here again, I’m calling the police.” He glares at Haley. “If you continue to see him, you and your entire worthless family are out.”

The front door slams shut as he goes into the house. Everyone else—her father, her cousin, her brother—solidify into frozen dumb-ass lawn ornaments in his screwed-up world. I drop my head into my hands as the anger begins to fade and the reality of what I’ve done sinks into my bone marrow. Just f**k.

“We’re not over,” I say so only she can hear. Haley massages circles over her temples.

The April night isn’t cold enough for my breath to show, but it’s cold enough for the air to burn my lungs. I hate the agony in her eyes, on her face, but what I hate more is the silent acceptance by her so-called family.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” she says.

“He called you a slut.” I stare each one of them down. “She is not a slut.”

“Shit!” Jax turns his back to me and walks away into the night, slamming his fist into the mailbox. The metal door tips open and the entire box vibrates on the pole.

“It isn’t what you think,” says Kaden. With one final look at Haley, he follows his cousin.

“What’s your poor excuse?” I ask her father.

Haley touches me now: a grip on my biceps, fingernails digging into my arm. “Don’t. Not him. Yell at me, not at my dad.”

“I’m sorry, Haley.” Her father shoves his hands deep into his pockets. “I’m sorry.”

Her hold on me tightens and she gulps for air. “It’s okay, Dad. Don’t worry. It’s okay.”

The forced cheer in her voice causes me to fall back onto my ass. “Fuck this.” Taking a page from Abby’s book, I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear Haley excuse her father for permitting anyone to call her a slut.

We remain silent as he stands on the front porch stoop, frowning at the brown winter grass. Her fingernails keep their teeth locked on my arm and the skin underneath begins to throb. I watch Haley, willing her to acknowledge me. Instead she focuses on nothing, on everything, once again locked inside her head.

“You have ten minutes before you need to be inside for curfew,” her father says. The screen door squeaks shut behind him.

Against the cold dirt and sparse grass, the two of us sit alone. “I’m waiting.” For an explanation, for a mere word, for a glance.

“For what?” she snaps.

Is she for real? “For you to explain what the hell is going on and why the f**k your family stood by and let some ass**le treat you like shit.”

Flames blaze out of her eyes. “Because they have self-restraint. Because they aren’t like you. Do you want to know why I freak out over you being in the cage? It’s not because you aren’t capable or strong—it’s because you don’t think. Ever. You are impulsive and let your emotions rule your decisions.”

“He called you a slut!” She’s not getting it.

“Yeah, he did and you took off swinging. In order to survive, you’ve got to be smart. You’ve got to think. With a temper, you forget your training and start swinging wildly. That type of attitude will get you killed.”

“And you think so much that you never act. Rolling over and dying or letting people treat you like shit isn’t the answer, either.”

Haley closes her eyes. “I’m not a slut.”

“Never thought you were. In fact, I’m the only one willing to defend that.”

Besides the rumble of traffic on the nearby interstate, we stew in silence. She’s mad at me, I’m mad at her and, if I don’t do something drastic, I’ll lose the only good thing in my f**ked-up life. “I’m in love with you.”

Finally, the girl looks at me. “What?”

“I don’t know.” I gesture to the house, the yard, the dirt surrounding us. “I’m not sure what suggested romance. Maybe it was the screaming match or the way my girlfriend kicked my ass to the ground, but I love you.”

Her mouth gapes. “I...I...”

“I don’t want you to say it back now. One of us should have some class.” Or maybe she doesn’t feel the same or maybe she’ll listen to her uncle and dump my ass. Either way, I don’t want to find out, at least not yet. “Can I say one more thing?”

She barely nods once.

“I don’t like how every time I’ve tried to defend you that you step in my way.”

“My uncle would have thrown us out!”

“And with Matt?”

“I would have lost my job.”

She’s probably right on both counts, but there’s something dark in her eyes. It’s the same shadow I see whenever she stops me. “You’re worth fighting for.”