Once they were inside the house, Mitch grabbed her hand and led her upstairs.

“Where are we going?”

“To shower. You smell like cheap booze and other cats. It’s bugging me.”

Sissy didn’t argue and instead enjoyed Mitch taking care of her. He got into the shower with her, washed her hair, and properly put on the conditioner, which Sissy could only figure he’d learned that skill from his mother. Once they were both rinsed, Mitch dried her off and went back with her to her bedroom. He didn’t say much during all this, and she didn’t know why. But Sissy wasn’t going to worry about it. Asking questions only led to meaningful conversations, which Sissy often tried to avoid at all costs.

She towel dried her hair and pulled on one of her old T-shirts with nothing else, figuring she wouldn’t need more based on the hard-on Mitch had been sporting since they had gotten into the shower together.

He combed his hair off his face and grabbed a clean pair of sweats from the pile Sissy had tossed on a chair. “I’m going downstairs,” he told her, surprising the hell out of her. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“You’re not staying in here?”

“Nah. Not tonight.”

She watched Mitch pull open her bedroom door, and on a whim, she asked, “Why?”

Sissy’s entire body jumped when Mitch slammed her door so hard she had the feeling it damaged the wall.

“Did you just ask me why?” Mitch turned around, and Sissy saw real anger in his eyes. To be honest, she’d never really seen that before. She’d seen annoyance and impatience. But never real…rage. Not from Mitch.

“Uh…yeah.”

“And you have the nerve to ask me that after what I just went through?”

Now Sissy was completely confused. “What did you go through?”

“What did I…did you…you can’t be…” Wow, Mitch not finishing sentences. That couldn’t be good.

Abruptly, he grabbed her by the shoulders, his fingers digging into her muscles. “Did you really think I’d enjoy watching you almost get killed today?”

“I wouldn’t exactly say—”

“Shut up!”

And Sissy was so startled she did exactly what he told her to.

“First off, I had no idea what the hell you guys were up to. If I had, I would have put a stop to it.”

“You would have—”

“Shut up! Second, do you have any idea what it was like to watch your car flip like that? To know you were trapped inside it and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it?”

Since he didn’t seem to really want answers to any of these questions, Sissy didn’t say anything.

“And for what? For nothing. You risked your neck forabsolutely nothing. So in answer to your stupid question, I’m not staying in here tonight because I’m pissed off!” He released her, yanked the door open, only to slam it shut again when he walked out.

Sissy had no idea how long she stood there, gawking at that closed door. It could have been minutes or hours. For one of the first times in her life, Sissy was at a loss for words.

But it was the sound of pebbles thrown at her window that snapped her out of her temporary muteness. She pushed open the window and saw Ronnie Lee and Dee standing under what she used to term her “escape tree.”

Throwing on some panties and shorts, Sissy climbed out her window and into the tree right outside it. She maneuvered her way down easily, landing firmly in front of her cousin and friend.

“Let’s raid your aunts’ store. We need pie,” Ronnie said, and Sissy nodded, recognizing the look on Ronnie’s face. Apparently, she wouldn’t be getting any from Brendon either. So yeah, they both needed pie.

Brendon wasn’t exactly surprised to find Mitch sitting by the lake at three in the morning, staring out over the still water. Of course, he would have much preferred if he wasn’t sitting with a crocodile next to him. It was one thing to enjoy a predatory game of tug with him, but it was another to treat him like the family’s pet dog.

“Hey.” Bren sat down next to Mitch with Ralph on the other side. “Is he really necessary?”

“He’s keeping me company.” Sitting Indian style with his elbow resting on his knee and his chin resting on his raised fist, Mitch sighed. He looked like the fourteen-year-old kid Brendon had met all those years ago when his father had finally gotten around to telling him that he had another son. “Didn’t I mention that before?” his father had asked, looking typically uninterested.

“Sissy went out,” Mitch said on that sigh. “And I don’t blame her. I lost it.”

“Don’t feel bad. I think I made Ronnie cry.”

Mitch glanced at him. “You made my Ronnie cry?”

“Don’t start. I feel bad enough without you adding to the pile-on.” Bren threw his hands up. “But that woman scared the shit out of me!”

“Yeah, I’m sensing they don’t get that. The whole time Sissy stared at me like I was speaking Gaelic.”

“They play rough out here in the sticks. Or so I’ve been told.”

“Playing rough I understand. Strapping yourself into a vehicle that could burst into flame or break into a thousand pieces and then ramming others in the same situation is way out of my comfort zone.”

Brendon watched his brother pet Ralph’s head. “Speaking of comfort zones…are you okay doing that?”