Page 6 of Sticks and Stones (Shadow Valley U)
Dad sneers. “You’rereckless. And stupid. Dealing drugs on school grounds? Do youwantto flush your life down the toilet?”
“No, sir.”
“They wanted to file felony charges. The only thing protecting you is our last name. My last name. And the leniency of the prosecutor who happened to owe me a favor.” His voice is glacial. He glances at me, then back to the road. “This is going to reflect poorly on both of us, no matter what you do.”
I exhale. “I know.”
“This goes beyond, Stone. If you needed money, you could’ve come to me—”
I grit my teeth. “I don’t.”
“And if this is some sick sort of rebellion against your stepmother…” He grimaces. “You need to accept her.”
I shake my head and glance out the window. He thinks I’m guilty. He got me out of it by the skin of my teeth, but he still thinks I did it. Maybe because he’s used to defending guilty people, and his conscience just doesn’t give a shit anymore. Or it’s eroded any possibility of people being innocent.
He turns into the school parking lot. It’s dark, and there are only a handful of cars left. The night janitors’, probably, and my truck. It sits alone.
I grab my backpack and climb out of Dad’s car.
“Come straight home.”
I grunt my acknowledgement and slam the door. Once I’m safely in my car, I dial Wren’s number.
She answers on the second ring. “Stone? I heard what happened—”
“Cut the shit, Sticks,” I growl. I’m holding my phone tight, my other hand gripping the steering wheel like it might save me from driving to her dad’s place and throttling her. “I know what you did.”
Her breathing hitches. All the confirmation I need, really.
“You’re dead to me,” I declare. “If you see me coming in the hallway, you better go the other fucking direction. If I so much as hear your voice or catch you looking in my direction, I’m going to tell my father that the drugs were yours. And then we’ll see who comes out of this unscathed.”
“Stone…”
“Do me a favor, Sticks, and fuck off.” I hit the end button and toss my phone into the passenger seat.
Only a few months until graduation. I just have to pray that the NHL doesn’t catch wind of this or else my whole future will be derailed. And if it is, I’ll have no one to blame but Wren Davis.
CHAPTER3
WREN
PRESENT
Two boxes and a weathered backpack.
That is all I have to my name as I stand outside my foster brother’s house with a slightly mended heart because, let’s be honest here, a broken heart from someone like Brad doesn’t do more than dent the walls I’ve built over the years.
I take one step forward but three steps back when an elderly man on a bike whooshes past me, mumbling something about college students ruining his day. I roll my eyes and readjust my cardboard boxes.Why bike this close to Shadow Valley University if you don’t like college students?
“Give me those boxes, right now.” Evan pops out of his front door and hops down the front steps with as much ease as I have breathing.
I spin and hide my smile. “I’ve got it. Just show me the way.”
Evan’s hand finds the worn strap of my backpack, and he spins me back around. “Excuse me?” His eyebrows reach the top of his forehead, and he gives me a look I’ve seen multiple times over the years.
I grin and put my boxes on the sidewalk before letting his warm arms envelop me in his classic, brotherly hug.
He may not be blood related to me, but I can say with full transparency that I have never felt safer. Being hugged by any biological family member gave a slightly different feeling than it did when Evan hugged me.