“Yes, I can’t wait to see you. Please believe me.” His words sound fine, but the tone sounds unsure, and to be honest, I don’t know how to help him.

Nodding, I walk to the window and look down.

Perfect. Just fantastic, it’s my mom talking to Jett. I lean closer. She looks angry as her skinny arms fly animatedly in the air.

That same guy in the suit from yesterday who picked me up from the airport is putting her bags in the trunk.

Jett laughs, then grabs the back of her neck, bringing her in for a kiss. I must let out some sort of noise because Brody’s voice makes me jump.

“Raven? What’s going on with you?” he demands, but I can’t turn away while watching my mom cling to Jett. That’s when it dawns on me: she loves him.

Or at least believes she loves him.

My hand reaches out to touch the cool glass on the window, wanting to feel him if only for a second…

“Brody? Are you coming tonight?” My voice sounds almost robotic as I watch my mother get into the car, and the man in the suit shut the door and walk around to the driver’s seat.

“I’ll try to be there around six. And, Raven?”

I drop my hand and watch Jett back up as the car pulls away.

“Yeah?”

“I love you,” he says. Two days ago, I would have told him I loved him back. Two days ago, that was true.

But I’m not my mother. I don’t lie. Instead, I say, “I need you.” My voice shakes a little because I’m not sure my words are for Brody or the dark-haired man from below. As if he knows I’m watching him, he turns and looks up at me.

My heart stops, then starts to race as he robs the very breath from me. What the hell? I need to move, but I stay exactly where I am.

This time Jett Powers is not grinning. If anything, the look in his eyes makes me shiver and goose bumps appear on my arms.

Prey. He looks at me like I’m his.

“Oh my God,” I whisper.

“What? You’re scaring me, Raven.” Brody. Sweet Brody, having absolutely no idea what’s happening to me. I swallow and take a steadying breath while I stare down at the man I need to stay away from.

He’s not good. But, then again, maybe I’m not good either. It’s almost as if I can feel him, like he’s calling to me.