Free Reaper by Rachel Vincent Page B

my voice to fade into silence, and no matter how powerful I got with age and experience, I’d never be able to make someone forget what they saw or did. It just didn’t work like that. And Nash damn well knew it.
    He shrugged, and I wanted to smack him over the head. “So we come up with another plan. It won’t be the first time you snuck a girl out of her house in the middle of the night.”
    “Nuh uh.” I sat straighter, shaking my head at him. “Don’t pretend this is the same as sneaking out for a beer at the watershed. You’re talking about helping a convicted criminal escape from corrective custody!”
    “She doesn’t belong there.”
    “Okay then, genius, what are you gonna do with her once you have her?
    Put her in a box and poke some holes?”
    “She can take care of herself. And I can help.”
    I searched his face for some sign that he was joking, but found nothing.
    “She’s fifteen !”
    Nash shrugged. “That’s just a number. It doesn’t say anything about her.”
    “It says something pretty damn funny about your IQ!” I said, and he opened his mouth to retort, but I spoke over him. “Fifteen is too young to drive, too young to get a legal job, too young to sign a lease, and obviously too young to pick a boyfriend with half a brain.”
    Nash’s confidence crumbled and fell apart, exposing blind desperation and pain so intense I could hardly wrap my mind around them. And while I wanted to believe this was all drama and hormones, he obviously believed it was more than that. “They won’t even let me talk to her, Tod. I think they found the phone I gave her, ‘cause she hasn’t answered it in three days.”
    Finally I leaned forward, right in his face, determined to give him the wakeup call he desperately needed. “What did you expect? You date a criminal, and you’re eventually going to have to share her with the state. Hell, she’s probably got a girlfriend on the inside by now.”
    “You’re an asshole.”
    “And you’re living in a fantasy world. There are other girls out there, Nash. Maybe even a few who’ve never seen the inside of the police station.”
    He glared at me, waiting for me to cave, but that wasn’t gonna happen.
    Not this time. Mom was right— he’d lost it. Over a girl . “Fine. I’ll do it myself.
    Gimme the keys.”
    “No way. I’m meeting Genna in an hour.”
    “I thought you were supposed to stay here and babysit.”
    “I thought you were supposed to be the smart one. So why are you acting like such an idiot?”
    “Just give me the keys!” Nash glanced around the living room, then lunged for the end table when he spotted the keys to the car I’d been forced to share with him since his birthday. I rammed his shoulder, knocking him to the carpet halfway across the room.
    “Sorry.” I grabbed the keys and shoved them into my front pocket. “But Mom says you’re grounded.” I stuck my hand out to help him up, but he smacked it away, glaring up at me with his jaw clenched.
    Nash shoved himself to his feet and stepped forward like he’d take a swing. But he wouldn’t. I could see hints of our father’s build in the width of his shoulders, but I still had two inches and twenty pounds on him, and he knew better than to start a fight he couldn’t win.
    “I’d do this for you,” he spat instead. “Because you’re my brother. But obviously that concept is wasted on you.” Then he stomped off to his room and slammed the door.
    “You’ll thank me for this later!” I shouted, trying to deny the fact that his parting shot stung almost like a physical blow.
    A couple of hours later, the credits scrolled down the darkened TV
    screen, and Genna sighed. She sat up, and I missed the warmth of her back against my chest.
    I wrapped one arm around her waist and leaned forward. “Hey, I liked you there.”
    She twisted in my grip to straddle me, delicious pressure in exactly the right place. Her brows arched and she gave me a slow smile as she bent