Backing out of my parking space, I swung the car around and sped past them, out of the alley and into the quiet street.

She didn’t say anything, and I let her be silent as I drove. I was pushing her around a lot lately, and I didn’t want that to be every interaction we had. I liked talking to her.

After Michael’s party a couple days ago, I’d stayed out of her way and let her stay out of mine, more because I was confused, rather than angry.

I was supposed to be searching for Damon. I was supposed to be cleaning up what he had on me.

But the other night, in that dark hallway at Delcour, everything came flooding back. How easy it was to engage with her, talk to her, and how much I loved those rare moments of vulnerability when she almost needed me. And wanted me.

She was such a mystery, but right now, the only truth I kept wanting was what I would get with her underneath me, between the sheets. What would her eyes look like? What words would she whisper? Where would she put her hands on me?

But she was loyal to the Torrance’s. How could I do what I needed to do and keep her?

The car cut through the night, racing across the bridge and down the dark highway toward Thunder Bay with the headlights shining ahead. I drew in a thick breath, everything suddenly feeling so heavy inside the car.

My skin buzzed with the feel of her next to me.

I glanced over, seeing her staring out the window, her back straight, and her hands in her lap. Slowly, though, she started to run them up and down her thighs, and I noticed how deep her breaths were growing.

She turned her head to the front again, and I noticed the quick glance out of the corner of her eye. She folded her lips between her teeth.

I turned my eyes back on the road, holding back my smile. “You’re real good at self-control, aren’t you, kid?” I kept my tone calm. “Do you want to say something to me? I can feel the weight of it. You may as well go ahead.”

But she remained quiet as I knew she would. I put my elbow on the door and ran my fingers over my lips. How do you play with someone who doesn’t engage?

And then I got an idea.

“So, what is she like?” I asked.

Her eyebrows pinched together. “Who?”

“Vanessa.”

She turned her eyes back out the passenger-side window, sighing impatiently. “Like she’s going to look real good bouncing up and down on top of you on your wedding night.”

I squeezed the steering wheel, grinding it in my fist. Such a fucking brat.

“So, you’ve never talked to her, then?” I pressed.

I wanted her to be jealous.

“A couple times,” she answered. “And she once paid a boy to grab my breasts at a party when we were fifteen. Damon tied him to a tree for that and stuffed his snake, Volos, down his underwear. The kid screamed like a bitch.”

I snorted.

And then my face fell, hating that, for a moment, I missed Damon. I didn’t like hearing someone attacked Banks, but for some reason, I was appeased, knowing he avenged her. That was unlike him.

Why was he so attached to her?

But then again, I was fast becoming attached myself. For reasons I couldn’t even try to understand right now.

“I talked to Michael today,” I told her, changing the subject as I stared out the front windshield. “He said you threatened him at The Pope. After he grabbed you and pinned you to a wall to threaten you.”

I couldn’t resist feeling amused at the picture in my head.

“You told him that we are vulnerable and unfocused?” I smiled at her, rounding a soft turn. “He actually seemed concerned, like you had a point.”

Her eyebrows dug in deeper, clearly trying to ignore my attempts as conversation.

“You know, the last time I saw you, six years ago, you were timid and innocent. The type of girl who would flinch at a light breeze.” I let out a long breath, wondering if that girl was still inside her somewhere. “Now, it’s like even a sip of water is calculated. And the next nineteen moves after it.”

I could feel her tensing next to me.

“A couple years after that Devil’s Night, Rika tagged along with us on one,” I told her, but I suspected she already knew all about that. “She reminded me so much of you that night. Just learning about what it was that excited her. Just starting to put that first step over the line that she craved to cross so much. You’re both so much alike.”

Rika had reminded me of Banks that night. Someone I could be drawn to. Someone who would go down the rabbit hole with me. I had my friends, but it wasn’t the same.

“Except for the control. Rika reacts from the gut,” I added, licking my lips. “She wants what she wants, and she takes it.”

Banks turned her eyes back out the window, acting like I wasn’t here.

“But growing up, she, too, was very different.” I steered the car around a soft right turn. “When we’re young, we are who we are out of necessity—we are who we’re taught to be. With freedom, though, comes the liberty to broaden our horizons. When we only have ourselves to answer to,” I said and glanced at her again. “You haven’t gotten that freedom yet, have you? Why? Do people hurt you if you step out of line? Does Gabriel hurt you when you misbehave or speak out of turn? Did Damon hurt you?” I kept prodding, hoping I’d exhaust her.

She drew in a hard breath and faced the front again, clearing her throat. “You and Michael can start by curbing Will’s destructive habits. They’ve gotten worse since Damon left,” she said, ignoring all my questions. “He’s depressed. You need to give him something to do. Lots of things, actually, so he has no time to think. Give him a purpose.”

I raised my eyebrows. I wasn’t annoyed she’d changed the subject back to her discussion with Michael. She was talking, after all.

I thought about what she said. Will was hardly ever sober and that made him weak and an easy target. Maybe she was right. After all, I was functioning better than Will, and maybe it was just due to the fact that I kept really busy, so I didn’t dwell on the past.

The car grew quiet again, and I caught sight of her hands, running up and down her thighs once more. I reached up and turned on the heat—low level—just in case she was cold.

The glow from the dash cast just enough light to make out her jaw, her nose, and a strip of the skin on her neck. I squeezed the wheel again, my body charged with new energy. Too much pent-up energy.

It had been a while since I’d been with anyone.

Maybe I should let you hunt me, too.

I blinked, trying to derail the heat coursing through me. She had too much of my interest, and I didn’t need the distraction. There were other women to play with. Hell, Alex had given me her card like fifteen times. She was ready to go if I ever decided I wanted her.

A small sound broke the silence, and I realized it was Banks. Her stomach had growled. I glanced at the clock on the dash, seeing it was after eleven.

“When was the last time you ate?” I asked her.

But she didn’t answer.

“I’ve never seen you eat, actually.” I kept glancing at the road but back to her, too.

“I think everyone could say the same for you.”

True. I kept strange hours, so I did things at my own pace.

But I couldn’t ignore the dull ache in my own stomach, either. After meetings earlier, I’d been busy with payroll and making calls. I’d forgotten to eat.

“You’re right,” I said, swerving to catch the fork in the road. “And I’m starved. What do you like to eat?”

“I’d like to go home.”

Yeah. I’m sure you would.

“No problem,” I replied.

“I meant my home,” she bit out a half hour later, annoyed.

I laughed under my breath, walking past her as she stayed rooted next to a wall in my parents’ dining room.

Instead of taking her back to Gabriel’s, I’d brought her to my house. Or my parents’ house, anyway. My mom and dad—both upstairs sleeping and oblivious that we were down here—still lived in Thunder Bay, as did Michael and Will’s parents, and of course, Damon’s father.

I carried plates to the long, wooden table, shining with the soft light of the wrought-iron chandelier hanging above. Despite my father’s love of the traditional Japanese style of decorating, my mother won and furnished our house with lots of dark wood, carpets, paintings, and colors.