If I Die by Rachel Vincent Page A

arms, staring straight into my eyes. “That’s not going to happen.”
    “Don’t promise her things you can’t deliver,” Nash snapped from the chair to my left, and I could hear anger in his voice, just as thick as the tears were in mine. “We all know how well that worked out for Addison.”
    Tod’s jaw clenched, but his attention never left me. “I can’t stop whatever’s going to happen on Thursday, Kaylee. More than anything in the world, I wish I could.” I nodded, sniffling. “But Levi said if I can get proof that Thane’s been reaping off the record, he’ll take it to his boss, and at the very least, we can get him removed from your case and held for review. And that should protect your dad. No promises…” The reaper glanced pointedly at his brother, then met my tear-blurred gaze again. “But I’ll do what I can.”
    “Thank you.” I wiped away more tears, trying to balance overwhelming fear and frustration with the bone of hope he’d just tossed me.
    “How do you know all this already?” Nash’s gaze narrowed on his brother when the reaper finally stood and stepped back. “You popped in here like you had urgent news, but if it was so urgent in the first place, how did you and Levi have time to work this out?”
    I glanced at Nash, surprised by his anger. “He’s just trying to help,” I insisted, sliding my hand into his.
    “Don’t you think his timing is a little convenient?”
    Tod actually laughed. “Little brother, the last thing I was trying to be was convenient.”
    Something silent passed between them. Some kind of unspoken challenge that made my stomach pitch. “What am I missing?” They’d never been best friends, but I’d rarely seen them openly hostile.
    Nash never even glanced at me. “You’ve delivered your news. Now go deliver some pizza.”
    I glanced at him in surprise. “What’s wrong with you?”
    But when Nash didn’t answer, Tod did, his eyes darker than usual, but still steady. “He wants to pick up where the two of you left off.”
    I could feel myself flush, and Nash’s hand tightened around mine. But he was watching his brother again. “Do you have a problem with that, Tod?”
    That sick feeling in my stomach grew stronger, and I looked up to find the reaper watching me, like he was waiting for some kind of signal. And when I didn’t give him one—when I couldn’t even fully understand the words they were saying, much less the ones they weren’t—he exhaled heavily, holding my gaze. “Not if that’s what she wants. At least this time she’s actually in there and able to speak for herself.” He tapped his head to illustrate his point, and I struggled to breathe through a complicated mix of embarrassment and squirming discomfort.
    I didn’t like the reminder that he knew what had happened. What Nash had let happen when he was high. I didn’t wantto think about it, and I didn’t want to know that anyone else ever thought about it.
    Nash went stiff at my side, and I could practically feel his temper rolling off him in waves. “Get. Out.”
    Tod watched me for another second, while I tried desperately to calm the storm of confusion battering my heart from all sides. Then he disappeared.
    “I can’t believe he said that to you.” Nash pulled me up by the hand he still held, and I let him tug me toward the living room.
    “He was talking to you,” I said softly, as I sank onto the couch next to him, and Nash went very, very still.
    It was the thing we didn’t talk about. It had happened, more than once, and it had broken us up for a while, but he felt horrible about it, and the whole thing was behind us now. And I was fine as long as I didn’t think about it. About what was said and seen and done while I wasn’t in control of my own body.
    Nash looked straight into my eyes with an intensity and sincerity that made me catch my breath. “It’s never going to happen again. Not even if you lived to be a thousand. You know that,