his entire body. I lowered him gently but firmly to the ground, pinning him completely. "You train
for points, Mason," I whispered in his ear. "I trained to survive. Do you understand the
difference?" He tapped the grass frantically, gasping for air.
I stood up and smoothed my shirt. Mason stayed on the grass, utterly defeated and staring at the
sky. Grant Whitaker was speechless, his beer forgotten in his hand. The arrogant facade of the
Whitaker men had been dismantled in less than sixty seconds.
The entire neighborhood was dead silent. I walked over, picked up my flannel shirt, and put it
back on. I looked at Grant, who quickly averted his eyes. Then I turned to Sophie. "Ready for
some hot dogs?" I asked. She smiled, the color returning to her cheeks. From that day on, the
heavy bag next door never made another sound, and Oak Hollow returned to the quiet sanctuary
I always wanted.