Kings of Linwood Academy - The Complete Box Set: A Dark High School Romance Series by Callie Rose (sight word books .TXT) 📕

People seem confused and curious about what our relationship is, and I don’t know quite how to handle that. What should I tell them?

What should I tell my mom?

That thought makes a sudden pain twist in my heart. There was a time when I told her everything, but that ended the night Iris died. Now, with Mom in prison, our talks aren’t the same no matter how often I manage to visit. There are still things I can’t tell her, and alongside that, there’s a growing list of things I don’t know how to tell her.

Fuck. One thing at a time, Harlow. Get her out first. Then worry about the “Mom, I have four boyfriends” convo.

Thankfully, I still have insurance from Mom’s old job at the Black family residence, and after I check out, we slide into Dax’s car to head back to the twins’ house.

“Good fucking thing too.” Chase shakes his head. “Linc and River have been blowing up my phone. They’re on their way over now.”

“Yeah.” I glance down at my cell. “Mine too.”

I’ve been responding to their messages as quickly as I can, updating them on where we are and what’s going on, but I’ve felt their anxiety building slowly with each new text.

I know the feeling. They need to see me to be sure I’m truly okay. Nothing else will quite do.

The snow has stopped falling, and while we were in the ER, the plows must’ve all come out in droves, because the roads are a lot better. The blanket of white flakes covering lawns and buildings even looks sort of pretty, although I’ve decided by this point that I definitely hate winter.

It’s almost six o’clock by now, and I glance over at Dax as a thought occurs to me. “Were your parents mad you guys ditched out on Christmas to come get me?”

He snorts, the sound almost like a laugh but not quite. “Nah. They don’t give a shit. Didn’t we tell you that?”

“Um, yeah.” I run my hand over the back of my neck, massaging out the tight knots from my accident. “I just didn’t know that extended to things like this.”

“It extends to pretty much every fucking thing,” Chase puts in, and I can hear the eye roll in his voice.

“Yeah. Dad worked half the day.” Dax pulls onto a long driveway as he speaks. “We got up this morning and gave each other the presents we bought, then opened the stuff Dad’s assistant got for us while Mom was on the phone with a client overseas.”

“The only time they really care what we do is when they have friends over. Especially friends with kids. Then they trot us out to show us off and brag about whatever stupid awards or shit we’ve won.”

I raise my eyebrows, blinking in surprise. “Holy fuck. That’s…”

“It is what it is,” Chase says with a shrug, opening his door as soon as Dax pulls into the garage. He slams it behind him and then opens mine, and I examine his face as he helps me out of the car.

Neither he nor Dax seem particularly broken up about the fact that their parents don’t really seem to care about them. Instead, they seem… nothing about it. Blank. As if they don’t have any dashed hopes because they’ve taught themselves never to hope for more.

I hate it.

It makes me want to introduce them to my mom, to watch her pester them with questions about what kind of music and movies they like and give them shit about their uncanny ability to communicate without words.

That image makes my chest ache for about a dozen different reasons, so I push it out of my mind as the guys lead me into the house.

It’s big, and somehow even more ostentatious than Linc’s house, which is pretty fucking fancy in its own right. I don’t even know if this place is worth more than the Black mansion, but it’s more about how it’s decorated, how it’s laid out, that gives the impression of extreme opulence.

The twins don’t even seem to notice, striding inside as if the place is no more extravagant than the dumpy little house I used to share with Mom. There’s a table made of dark shiny wood under a massive mirror in the foyer, with a large vase of fresh flowers sitting on it.

Dax grabs a note that’s tucked under the vase at one corner, reading it quickly before tossing it back on the table.

“Mom and Dad left for a party.” He shoots me a look. “So I don’t think you have to worry about crashing our holiday celebrations. There’s not a Christmas goose cooking in the oven or anything.”

Before I can respond to that, the door we just entered through opens again, and Lincoln and River burst into the house. Neither of them seem awed by their surroundings either. In fact, neither of them seem to notice anything but me.

Linc’s long legs eat up the floor as he strides toward me, his face set and his nostrils flared wide. I expect him to collide with me, to knock me off balance with the force of his embrace, but instead, he slows when he reaches me, cupping my face in both hands and examining me with a wild look in his bright amber eyes.

“What the fuck?” He skates his fingertips over every inch of my face, like he’s trying to read what happened to me in the contours of my features and the rising swell of my bruise. “What the fuck is going on, Harlow? You tell me you got in an accident, but nobody will fucking tell me why—”

His grip on my jaw tightens until he breaks away, stepping back and scrubbing a hand over his own jaw, as if he’s afraid he’ll hurt me if he keeps touching me.

I don’t care if he does. My head still throbs dully, and the brush of