Page 172 of Glutton for Punishment

“You’re giving me more than I should get.” His voice is raw, stripped bare. “I won’t—I can’t—betray you again, Arwen. You mean… so much to me.” He swallows, the sound thick in the quiet room. “This distance has been killing me. I’ll earn your trust back. I’ll tell you everything. But I won’t promise to stop doing everything that I can to protect my sisters. I can’t.”

I squeeze his shoulder. “We’ll figure something out. We won’t let your sisters end up in the system.”

Something releases in him—I can feel it, the way his entire body changes under my arms. I don’t move. I stay there until his breathing steadies. By the time it does, something has already hardened in me. His sisters won’t end up like Dylan. I’ll make sure of it. I’m going to figure out a way to protect my friends. At all costs.

Chapter 53

Atticus

The training room is quiet, but the memory of my last call with my father repeats over and over in my mind. Distracting me.

Arwen stands across from me with her eyes closed, shoulders relaxed, one hand resting against the back of a chair as she concentrates.

A month ago, she could barely maintain a mental shield for thirty seconds. Now she’s almost as good as me.

It’s not surprising. Everything about her seems impossible.

She learns fast. Once she understands the principle behind something, she absorbs it like she’s been doing it her entire life. With Arwen’s advanced learning, this lesson should be easy.

Instead, it’s me who is struggling.

“Good,” I tell her as I pace around the room. “Keep building it up, but don’t forget to reinforce what you already have in place. Keep an eye out for weak spots.”

She nods.

I watch her shield for another moment before looking away. Thoughts drift back to the contract sitting on my desk. The one my father expects me to sign.

I walk to the supply table and set down the coffee mug I’d been holding. The impact is harder than I intend. The cup rattles, and Arwen’s eyes flick open.

I pretend not to notice. “Try again,” I say.

She sighs, but closes her eyes.

For several more minutes, I attempt to continue the lesson. I correct her posture. Adjust her technique. But the entire time my attention keeps slipping to my father. I end up missing one of Arwen’s questions entirely.

“Atticus,” she snaps.

I blink out of my thoughts and look her way. “Yeah?”

Her shoulders slouch and I can feel by probing at her that her shield has dissolved.

“That’s the third time you’ve ignored me.” She looks up at me in question.

I drag a hand through my hair. “Sorry.”

Arwen studies me for a long moment before crossing the room and dropping into the chair beside mine. “Am I doing something wrong? You know you can tell me.”

The question catches me off guard. “What?”

“You seem irritated. I feel like I’m doing everything the way you’ve shown me, but maybe I’m not getting it right. If I’m messing something up, just tell me. I promise I won’t take it personally.”

Guilt punches me in the chest. I lean forward and grab her chin so I can raise her eyes to meet mine. “Arwen, I promise. This irritation has nothing to do with you.”

Her expression softens. “Then what’s wrong?”

The silence stretches as I war with myself on how to answer. I didn’t want to drag her into this or put more on her plate. Something inside me finally snaps. I slam to my feet and the movement makes Arwen jump.

Before I can think better of it, I grab the empty coffee mug off the table and hurl it across the room. It crashes into the far wall as the ceramic shatters, the sound echoing through the room.