Burning His Empire For My Sister

ine Co

w a flicker of something-panic, maybe even guilt-befor

rotective gesture that felt like a slap i

voice low and dangerous.

He looked me up and down, taking in my simple black dress, the dark circles un

the question so absurdly fal

linched away as if his touch w

oice a broken whisper that didn' t soun

ide-eyed innocence. It was the same look she' d perfected in high sc

h fake sympathy. "I' m so sorry. Jax told me you t

e hand on Jax' s arm. "Maybe I should

ng me as the hysterical, intrusive ex

eyes never leaving my face. He saw her as fragile,

pped, my gaze finally turning to her. The sight

crying on command. "I... I was just trying to be nice," she whimp

If only Bartholomew hadn' t gotten sick... if the vet hadn' t insisted on the helicopter..." She was twistin

, his eyes filled with disappointment, as if I were the one be

ion pieces, broke all over again. He was defending her. He was d

ing me down while they cut off chunks of my hair with a pair of craft scissors. To them slipping a dea

g, magnetic boy everyone was afraid of. I had shown him my ruin

e, and promised, "I' ll make them pay, Jo.

rl in his arms, protecting her from me. Th

the wreckage of the past, because Jax' s expre

e dropping to the low, persuasive tone he used in

" I said, the

epped toward me, her hand outstretched. "Josephine, le

epulsive that I recoiled instinctively, pull

out a theatrical gasp, stumbled backward, and collapsed onto the

cradling her ankle.

sk of thunderous rage. He looked from her feigne

ll did you do