Page 50 of Overkill

“Rock on. He tries anything, I’ll bang him over the head with your mom’s big ass cast-iron pan.”

She snickered, and so did he.

What the fuck was going on here? I’d have to figure it out later.

“Okay,” she finally said, slumping once more.

Melody stared at me like she’d been pushed into a corner. Because she had.

Because I was not letting her go home alone.

Not with a busted head and probably more. A huge bruise was already spreading on her forearm. At least her pupils looked even; every time she faced the sun, her eyes turning amber as her pupils constricted and dilated as needed.

“I’ll take care of you.”

When she turned to me, suspicion was written in every line, every tension, and every curl

Who hurt you, sweetheart? Who made you wary like this?

And what do I need to do to fix it?

Chapter 16

They’re a Feature

Melody

The dent groaned as he pulled open the passenger door, the Wile E. Coyote sticker mocking me from when I’d lost control of my car over black ice and slid into a tree. The tree was unharmed, of course, but I was uninsured. So I never got it fixed.

Greg kept his fingers on my lower back as I climbed up into the seat, feeling Marc and Miriam’s eyes burning into the back of my head.

“Are you okay?” Miriam’s high, uncertain voice broke my heart as dizziness and exhaustion set in, making me slouch into the seat.

“I’m okay.” I could barely look at her as my stomach turned, having to breathe through my nose to keep from puking.

“You don’t look it,” Marc said. Ever the unhelpful little shit. Teenage boys…

“I’m fine.”

The truck dipped to one side as Greg got in, the fuzzy yellow puffball of my key dangling from his hand as he searched for the ignition.

“Hey kids,” Greg said, looking at Miriam and Marc in the rearview mirror. “I’m coming over for a sleepover. Hope you guys don’t mind.”

Miriam and Marc looked at each other, about to open their mouths when Greg interrupted with, “You guys hungry?”

Yes. Teenagers were always hungry. They ate like charging bull elephants, devouring everything in their wake. If I closed the fridge door on any leftovers, I’d blink and find Marcus stuffing it down his throat, then whining about how I never fed him. Miriam was a little better, but not because she wasn’t hungry. She just forgot to eat. If I left her to her own devices—to her studies—she’d forget to lift her head to breathe.

I did not have time to be sick.

“What’re you guys hankering for? Pizza? Thai food? Sushi?” Greg continued.

“Oh!” Miriam perked up. “I’ll take a red curry duck from the Thai place down in Cobblerkill!”

“Alright, red curry duck.” Greg nodded as he pulled out of the parking spot. “What about you, brother?”

Marc crossed his arms, not even bothering to give Greg a chance.

“I don’t eat that kind of stuff!” He rolled his eyes as if a little culture would kill him. As a moody teen trying to fit in with the likes of the Grays, then yeah, it was possible…