WANTING MY STEP—BROTHER
Aaron stopped in front of a car which happened to be Dante’s, parked like it had always been meant to be there, waiting, watching.
Aaron didn’t say much. He just guided me closer, his grip firm. When we stopped, he yanked open the trunk with a loud metallic creak.
“Get in,” he ordered.
I froze, staring at the dark, hollow space. My stomach flipped.
He narrowed his eyes, then softened his tone just slightly. “Remember everything Dante told you.”
Everything Dante told me. You mean that half-baked speech about plans and uncles and making Juan look like an idiot? Because let me tell you, Aaron, that’s not exactly the clearest instruction manual.