He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “It doesn’t hurt to be prepared.”

“It does if it comes at the cost of your mental health.” When his body tightened, I eased off. “Or if you don’t have time to do fun stuff. Hang out. Go to the movies. Chill at the mall. Do typical teen stuff while you’re still a typical teen.”

Kind of typical.

Proving my thought, he scoffed. “All that stuff is stupid. I need to focus.”

“There’s time for both. Fun and school.”

“My dad says I need to stop slacking.”

Dread and foreboding coursed through my veins, my instincts flaring to life with each pulse.

Because as he’d spoken, he’d unconsciously reached up to touch his face.

To touch his black eye.

“Your dad is wrong,” I said, keeping my emotions in check.

Reed snorted, the sound loaded with teen disdain and snark. It was unlike him, and he quickly regained his composure. “He’s right. If I want to move far, far away, I need to make sure my transcript is perfect.”

“Do you want to move far away?”

“Hell yeah.” He cleared his throat. “I mean, heck yeah.”

I waved away the correction. “Why is that?”

He lifted a shoulder.

I tapped my pencil on the pad I used to take notes, weighing the risk against the bigger risk.

For the first time, he’d shared more than his frustrations about group projects. He’d done more than unload the details of his busy schedule.

If I pushed, he could retreat back and never let me in again.

If I didn’t, something far worse could happen.

Decision made, I kept my voice and face neutral. “What happened to your eye, Reed?”

His expression shuttered faster than Florida windows in a hurricane. “Danny nailed me in the face with a tennis ball in PE. Sorry, ma’am, I’ve gotta run to class.”

The video screen went black.

“Shit,” I muttered, grabbing my cell to leave a message for Alice.

We needed to tread carefully. If CPS got involved before we had any evidence or cooperation, it wouldn’t help Reed.

But it could damn well hurt him.

13. Beep

CHAPTER 13

BEEP

MAC

“Honey, I’m home.”

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit.

I was behind schedule. The trip to the store had taken twice as long as expected, the ten-minute prep time the recipe touted had been closer to forty, and I wasn’t finished getting ready.

I stepped back and checked my reflection. My dress was pretty, my hair was fine, and my makeup was minimal. I wanted to add lipstick and shoes, but I was out of time.

I’ll have to do.

I rushed down the stairs to where my fiancé stood in the entryway. Stopping on the last step, I took him in. “You got it!”

He grinned and held up the shiny wooden plaque with shimmery gold engraving. “I got it.”