CATERINA

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"Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard are sweeter."

-John Keats

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"PAPÀ, I'D APPRECIATE IT IF next time you would send anyone- anyone at all-but Jennifer to pick me up."

I stood in my papà's office doorway, my duffel bag hanging from my shoulder. As soon as Jennifer had pulled into the driveway and I'd seen my father was home, I'd hopped out of the car and came straight here.

I had already been humiliated enough by the incident. I wasn't a girl who wanted to be saved or avenged. I just wanted to forget about it and put it behind me. But I couldn't do that because Jennifer had burned the entire gas station down. There would always be charred remains-and possibly a body-reminding me. I'd never seen the cashier come out. Sure, he was a disgusting creep, but did he deserve to burn to death? My throat tightened.

Papà set his pen down and gave me his "I'm listening" expression for the first time in a long time. "And why is that?"

I crossed my arms, saying simply, "She's psychotic, Papà."

At that moment, my back tingled in awareness, and my father's gaze coasted above my head. Apparently, Jennifer now came in and out of my house like she owned it.

I hadn't said a word to her the rest of the drive home, though she'd hardly tried to instigate a conversation. Between her threatening me about Tirzah, kind of kissing her, and watching the gas station light up in my side-view mirror as we drove away, I was more frustrated than I'd ever been.

That kiss had made me hotter for more than I'd ever felt before, and she hadn't even touched me. I hated how it made me feel. How it made me realize that the girl whose life I'd ruined was based on a meaningless, even passionless, motivation.

Papa's brows rose when he took in my words, and then, surprisingly, he laughed. "Well, Ace, I've never heard such an accusation from my daughter. What do you have to say about it?"

Jennifer stood so close my ponytail brushed her chest. She had no boundaries, I noticed with annoyance, while at the same time I tried to ignore the heady pull to step backward until my back touched her front.

"The cashier groped her," she said indifferently. "So I burned down his place of business and maybe him."

Papa's gaze hardened. "Who's stupid enough to touch my daughter?"

Oscar Perez, and every time you invite him over.

"A nobody now, if he even made it out."

"Good," Papà snapped. "Let's hope he didn't."

I didn't know why I had even tried.

"Jenn, we need to talk if you have some time. Caterina, go check on Bradley in the kitchen and make sure he's still alive."

My eyes widened. "What?"

"He was shot tonight. Though, maybe you aren't so concerned about that as you are about who drives you home."

I frowned.

Turning around, I was frustrated enough with his barb that I forgot Jennifer stood so close. I bumped into her, and then braced my hand on her stomach to steady myself. Heat burned through her white dress shirt and into my palm. God, she was a furnace. My fingers unwillingly curled into the muscle before I stepped back.

"I'm convinced they should call you the Clumsy Abelli instead," she said, annoyance coating her tone.

My gaze sparked. "Cute."

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