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little. Like baby light bulbs. They’re cute.
    Another door shuts in the vicinity and my eyes break away from the taillights to see the auburn spiral curls of Trace’s girlfriend, Harlow, aka Alex Morgan’s best friend, blowing in the night air breeze. I see her all the time at Alex and Blake’s house when I visit and here at the bar with Trace. She’s seems nice enough, always giving me a friendly pat or hug when we run into each other. It’s kind of a shame. I would probably like her if she weren’t dating my brother.
    With her broadened eyes and mouth in an “O” shape as she approaches, she’s dressed in a pair of black wide-leg dress pants and a simple light pink fitted dress shirt with a fabulous pair of matching peep toe high heels.
    “Stay back, Harlow,” Trace abruptly directs. The fact that she steps around him, moving towards me anyway makes me like her even more. Damn it.
    Completely ignoring his warning, she walks directly up to me, and after taking in the massive amount of destruction, cups her hand softly against my cheek. It’s such a gentle, loving touch, tears once again surface. It takes everything in me not to wrap my arms around her and cry. Cry for my sucky ass life. Cry because I feel so lost. Cry because I don’t know what the hell I’m doing anymore.
    But I don’t.
    Instead, I meet her gaze harshly, jerking my face away from her hand to look over her shoulder at Trace, who’s assessing the damage to Cash’s truck. Snickering, I address him. “Don’t worry, Trace. I’ll take care of all the damages. No need to worry. Your baby sister can take care of herself.”
    His eyes fall toward the ground before he raises them to meet mine as I continue speaking. “I mean, I always have, it’s not like you ever gave a shit about me before. I don’t know why you’re choosing now to actually care.” When his stare moves from me to Harlow I add, “Oh, you’re embarrassed in front of your girlfriend.” I shrug my shoulders. “Makes sense I guess.”
    Directing my attention at her, I offer her my condolences for living. “I’m the bad seed, you know. You should stay far away from me. I’m such an inconvenience to Trace and his perfect existence. Since you’re part of it, I assume you don’t want to be soiled by my presence, either.”
    Laughing, I lean against the truck as the knot in my throat constricts, making it almost impossible to breathe. The admission is almost too much for me tonight. Slowly, Harlow brings her hand back to my face, stroking it once with her fingers before running the palm of her hand down my hair. “Honey, you’re not soiled, you’re bleeding — everywhere . And the first thing you need to know is that your brother doesn’t make any decisions for me, I do , and based on what I’ve gathered, solely on my own deductions, you’re not a bad seed sweetie. You’re just a little lost and you need help finding your way, that’s all.”
    No longer able to control my emotions, I bury my head in my hands and let them flow, safe from the scrutiny of others. Harlow’s hand squeezes lightly on my shoulders, but I keep my eyes covered. “I’m going to get a first aid kit for her. Trace,” her tone full of warning, “Rein it in.”
    As her footsteps become more and more distant, I wait until I can no longer hear them before peeling my fingers away from my face. Once again forced to look into Trace’s eyes, I take in an exhausted breath as he proceeds with his tongue-lashing.
    “What the hell is going on with you?” When I give no response but a blank stare, his brows furrow as he shakes his head.
    “She’s gone , Tatum. We have no one else, only each other now.” He places his hand underneath my chin, constraining me to look only at him while disrupting my attempt to stare at the cute light bulbs on the truck. “I don’t know that I will ever fully understand your hostility for her, but there’s a lot that I can comprehend on my own and this is what I