Crossing The Line

Prologue

There are two things everyone knows about Kane Rhett Mercer. The first is that he's trouble.

Not the harmless kind either. Not the kind teachers roll their eyes at or parents laugh off with a tired sigh. Real trouble. The kind that leaves bruised knuckles, broken rules, and whispered conversations behind closed doors.

The kind fathers send away.

The second thing everyone knows is that my older brother would do absolutely anything for him.

Which is exactly why I try so hard to stay away.

"Cami!"

I look up from my phone just in time to see Cassian pushing through the crowded kitchen with a beer bottle hanging loosely from his hand. Behind him, music rattles the walls hard enough to shake the framed pictures in the hallway. College parties were never really my thing. Too loud. Too many people. Too little space.

Still, Tara dragged me here an hour ago claiming I "needed to stop acting like a seventy-year-old woman," and unfortunately, she might've been right.

Cass stops in front of me, slightly buzzed already, grinning in the way only older brothers can when they're about to irritate you on purpose.

"You've been hiding in this corner all night."

"I'm observing," I correct.

"You're judging."

"That too."

He laughs, shaking his head before taking another drink. "You could at least pretend to enjoy yourself."

"I was," I say flatly. "Then you came over here."

"Aw. You do love me."

"Debatable."

Cass clutches his chest dramatically. "That's cold."

Before I can respond, the front door slams somewhere down the hall.

The energy in the house changes instantly.

It's subtle at first. A shift. A reaction. Conversations lowering just enough to notice. Heads turning toward the hallway.

Then Cass smirks.

And my stomach drops.

"No," I say immediately.

His grin widens. "He's back."

Heat rushes through me so fast it's embarrassing.

"No, seriously, Cass—"

But it's already too late. Because suddenly he's there. Kane Rhett Mercer. Standing at the entrance of the kitchen like he owns every inch of it. He looks different than the last time I saw him. Broader somehow. Sharper around the edges. Dark hoodie sleeves shoved up to his forearms, tattoos peeking from beneath them. His hair is shorter now, cleaner—but it somehow makes him look worse. More dangerous. More controlled. Girls notice immediately. Of course they do. Kane barely acknowledges any of them. His eyes land on Cass first. Then me. And just like that, he smiles. Slow. Knowing. Ruinous.

"Well," he drawls. "Look who finally left her room."

I roll my eyes before he can see the effect he has on me. "Look who finally got released back into society."

Cass chokes on his drink laughing. Kane just smirks wider. Same as always. And that should've been comforting. Familiar. Easy. But something about the way Kane’s looking at me tonight feels different. Like he noticed something he shouldn't have. Like he came back wrong.

My fingers tighten around the red plastic cup in my hands as he steps closer. Too close.

"Miss me, Angel?" he asks quietly.

I force myself to meet his gaze.

"No," I lie.

And judging by the look on his face— he knows it.