I let go of Avery’s hand and grab her bag out of the back of the truck to get her dry clothes.

“No.” Avery doesn’t elaborate.

“What do you want out of here?” I ask in a clipped voice.

“I’ll get it.” Avery takes the bag.

“Nice Louis Vuitton. I have the same one in black.” Francine’s voice claws at my nerves.

I slide on a T-shirt.

“Thanks. I love it. Just got it a few months ago.” Avery seems quite pleased that someone noticed her overpriced bag.

Clearly her need for that shit is hardwired.

“Nice watch.” Avery points to the chunky gold thing on Francine’s wrist.

“Thanks. Howie gave it to me for my birthday.”

Howie smirks at me. He’s trying to lose all of his teeth with one fucking grin. I clench my fists.

“Looks like we have the same taste in women, Jake.”

That’s it. I grab his shirt and shove him up against his SUV.

“Jake!” Francine and Avery yell at the same time.

“I hate you and I hate your fucking materialistic whore. So don’t you ever think we have one goddamn thing in common.” I release him with a sudden jerk and step back.

Francine shuffles in her heels to his aid.

“Jake …” Avery starts to grab my arm.

I pull away. “For the last time, Avery … get in the fucking truck.”

Chapter Sixteen

Avery

“I’m not going to jump just because you tell me to jump.” I tighten the towel he tied around my waist.

The muscles in Jake’s jaw pulse several times.

“Good for you,” Frannie says as she and Howie squeeze behind Jake to open the back of their vehicle.

Jake gives them a quick glance over his shoulder. I’m sure he’s scowling even harder at them as they get their wetsuits out of the back. His dad scuba dives. I find that very cool.

“Good seeing you, Jake. Look me up when you want to make amends. We’re just outside of Albuquerque. Good luck, Avery. You’re going to need it.”

I expect Jake to attack Howie again, but he doesn’t. When his dad and Frannie are out of earshot, he returns his attention to me. “This is a hard limit for me.” He hands me his phone. “Call your sister or your dad. I’ll get Swarley to L.A. for you. I’m sorry if you don’t like the way I need to protect you. I’m sorry if it’s not delicate and polite enough for you. But it is in fact for you.” He pushes his phone into my hand, punctuating his point like a fist punched into my heart.

“You wanted me to stand up for myself, and now that I’m doing just that, you want me to submit to you?” I take his phone.