Free Hard Fought (A Stepbrother Warriors Novel) by Celia Loren

doesn't really
like opening up."
    She laughs. "Yup, that's him. Usually he'll talk to me
about stuff, but not this time. I don't want to make you feel weird if you
don't feel comfortable sharing."
    "No, I mean, I don't want you to worry. It seems like
his leg is healing well. The doctors seem happy. We just went through some
exercises that he's supposed to do at home."
    "Oh, good. He's being even more tight-lipped than
usual, so I thought maybe it was still hurt or something. He won't even tell us
how it happened."
    "Really?" That's strange. He told me on the
plane.
    "No, and his medical records are sealed,
obviously." She glances at me. "I don't suppose he—"
    "No," I cut her off. "Hasn't mentioned
it." I feel fine about sharing his progress, but he definitely told me
about the bomber in confidence, even if he didn't know who I was at the time.
    "Where did you go in Europe?" she asks, her eyes
lighting up.
    "Well, Paris, the south of France, Barcelona,
Brussels..."
    "Are you going to go back to college now?" she
asks. I pause. She's definitely blunt.
    "I don't know, to be honest. It's harder than I thought
it would be. Are you in school?"
    "No, but the good thing about writing is I don't need
anyone else's help to do it. I mean, I'd love to get a degree, but it's really
expensive, and I think your dad's already done enough."
    "How do you—" I begin to ask, unsure of exactly
what my father's done.
    "What are you two talking about?" Carter asks as
he walks in. Damn. He offered to help with dishes and I thought I might have
ditched him for a little while longer. He's been on me like glue all day.
    "You," Bree replies with a smile. Carter glances
between us, unsure if his sister is joking or not, but neither one of us clue
him in.
    "Do you know if Jack's in town?" Carter asks.
    "Dunno," Bree replies with a shrug.
    "He's back on the road," I answer.
    "I can't believe you tackled him," Bree says. I
glance down at my phone as she takes her brother to task. It just lit up with a
new text message from an unknown number.
    Please tell me you're back in town for the holidays.
    Maybe , I type back. Depends on who this is.
    Nikki, you ass!
    Holy shit. Nikki? She was one of my best friends in high
school. We both grew up in Tampa but didn't meet until we were in boarding
school together. Any time I got into trouble, she was right by my side. Usually
because she was the one who caused the trouble in the first place.
    Back in town for the holidays and after , I reply.
    WHATTTTT??? You have to come out tonight!! New club just
opened. Can't believe you didn't text me you were back!
    I do feel guilty I didn't let her know. It's just that if
I'm trying to get serious about my life, Nikki's probably the last person I
should be hanging out with. She married an heir she met on someone's yacht and
has never worked a day in her life. Still, she's fun as hell and being in this
house is driving me crazy.
    K but just for a bit. Have to get up early tomorrow , I
lie, trying to build in an excuse for not staying long. I stand, looking as
nonchalant as possible, and head for the hallway. I'm hoping Carter is
distracted by his sister's teasing, but I hear his footsteps behind me.
    I keep my gaze forward as I head back for the boat house,
refusing to acknowledge his presence. I pick out a strapless leather mini and
pumps, then throw on some smoky eyeliner and a couple layers of black mascara.
I grab a clutch and head back down the steps, knowing full well that Carter is
waiting at the bottom of them.
    "No," he states simply as I breeze past him,
headed for the garage.
    "Yep."
    "You are not going out right now. A bar is the last
place you should be."
    "It's a club, actually."
    "Even worse. There are too many people. I won't be able
to keep you secure."
    "Feel free to stay home then," I reply, opening
the side door of the garage and heading down the steps to my Audi. I open the
passenger door and sit down, shutting it behind me. I wait, my hands