Page 165 of Midnight Curfew

My throat swells, my eyes water, and I nearly fall, grabbing a dock piling to steady myself.

I bite back the cough caught in my throat, damn near gasping. “What the fuck?” I breathe out.

His life is laid out before me in my head, and I squeeze my eyes shut. Fuck.

Goddammit. What the hell do I care? He’s going to get everything he deserves.

Hurrying to my sister’s car, I yank open the door and climb in. As soon as I’m seated, she shifts into reverse and speeds out of the lot, toward home.

I don’t even look at her as I turn up her radio and blast the music. Thankfully, she can read my mood. I half suspect she provoked me tonight for ulterior motives that have nothing to do with vengeance on Callum Ames. She’s never been one to hold a grudge. I mean, she’s marrying her high school bully, for Christ’s sake.

By the time we make it back to the house, Macon’s truck is back, and I spot the flicker of the fire pits around the pool.

Clay’s Bronco sits next to my Supra.

“Shit,” Liv mumbles. “I thought she was working late.”

Walking around the garage to the pool, we hear shouting before we even see who’s there.

“What were we supposed to do?” Macon barks.

Liv and I emerge from the trees to see Clay and Krisjen standing waist-deep in the pool, margaritas in their hands.

“Whatever the hell you want,” Krisjen chirps in a false tone of agreement. “Just don’t think we’re going to sit around and bite our nails, waiting to see if you’re all safe.”

Clay sneers at my sister. “Army let us know where you were and what you were doing.”

“Well, it wasn’t my idea!” Macon tells his wife.

“Nor was it a worthwhile use of your limited luck!” she fires back.

Ascending the steps, she climbs out of the pool, coming around the corner in a black one-piece that has a thin string zigzagging across the front just tight enough to keep her breasts from completely popping out. Droplets of water glisten all over her tanned skin.

“Oh, my God.” Macon looks her up and down as she walks past him. “What are you wearing?”

Her revenge suit, dumbass.

He starts to follow.

“Don’t touch me,” she snaps back at him. “I’m in a pout.”

He throws a glare back at me before shooting off after her. “Fuck.”

And that’s the revenge part.

I glance at Iron, just to confirm he’s home safe, but Liv approaches the edge of the pool and diverts my attention. “Come here,” she tells Clay.

“I’m not done with my drink yet.”

“I think you’ve had enough drinks.”

“And yet,” Clay smiles, batting her drunk eyelashes. “I’m not the one breaking the law.”

She spins around and sets down her drink, jumping up to snatch her hair tie off the deck. Her swimsuit bottoms barely cover her ass, and Liv grabs her heart. “Oh, my God,” she groans. “She’s so hot.”

We watch our sister jump into the pool, fully clothed.

Clay spins around. “I’m mad,” she warns, but excitement gleams in her eyes.