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I push through them all, pausing when I get to the top of the stairs, all of their guilty eyes on me, “Don’t wait up for me.”
Chapter 35
BENNETT
“He wasn’t supposed to find out,” I sigh, dropping into the leather armchair in the basement den. “This was supposed to be anin case of emergency.”
“Well, he knows,” Flynn shrugs, dropping into the corner of the large L-shaped couch opposite me. “He’ll get over it.”
I lift my gaze to my best friend, his black curls falling over his pale forehead, bright blue eyes focusing on mine. Bare tattooed chest on full display, one hand shoved down his sweatpants, cupping his dick like I’m not right here, the other arm thrown over the back of the couch. His milky skin, a sharp contrast to the chocolate brown leather, icy blue veins stark ridges in his flesh.
“I want to protect him,” my vision blurs, thinking of Lynx, out there somewhere, probably doing something fucking stupid.
“He’s a grown man, he’s beaten addiction, he’ll get past this.”
I’m nodding absentmindedly, listening but not taking anything in.
Instead, thinking of Poppy in my car. Curled up in the passenger seat as I ran through the snow, into the pharmacy, buying Plan B, and a bar of chocolate. Something I snapped into pieces inside the package before opening it on my way backto her, offering her up the first square of dark chocolate as I dropped a condensation covered bottle of water into her lap, the box in her hands and the chocolate in my fingers. She looked surprised, uncertain, but she parted those plump lips, extending her tongue to me as I held it up to her mouth, leaning over her in the open passenger door of the car.
“We gotta pull the boys off this shit.” Flynn cracks his neck, twisting it as the small bones pop, his eyelids fluttering closed as he cranes it back.
Lilac eyes lifted to mine, she smiled, just a little, her pupils still blown, drugs, liquor, a chemical concoction I didn’t want to think too much about still heavy in her veins.
“She trusted me,” I say slowly, swirling the short glass tumbler of liquid courage around and around. “I wanted to hurt her.” I throw the amber liquid into my mouth, fire burning its way down my esophagus, I swallow with a wince. “Couldn’t do it.” I think about the way I fucked her, rough, without care. “Not really.” I lift my gaze to Flynn’s then.
“She was already hurting herself enough,” he says lowly, holding my eye, his jaw clicking as he grits his teeth. “I fucked her up a little extra, though.For you.”
I squeeze my fingers around the glass in my hand, the rim of it suctioning to my palm.
“You told Lynx you fucked her?” My gaze slides to his, a black brow raised in a high arch on his head in question.
“Pretty sure he knows, you all fucking watched me.”
“Before last night,” he says lowly, “at Graves. You fucked her in the restroom.”
“I didn’t tell anyone.” I wrinkle my nose. “...You saw,” I shoulda known, Flynn has eyes everywhere.
“You ashamed?” he swirls his own drink before knocking it back, “Or Disgusted?”
“I’m angry.” A frown tugs hard at my lips, my eyes narrowing, “Disappointed,” I sigh, “in myself.”
Flynn’s nodding, like the therapist he is,should be.Instead of working for a corrupt businessman like me. He’s a little unhinged, but he could be better.Without me.
“I wasn’t supposed to get involved with her.”
“That what you are?” Flynn rasps, rubbing his hand over his short, dark stubble, his thumb smoothing up and down the length of his jaw. “Involved?”
“No,” I frown harder, staring at the carpet. “I don’t-” I cut myself off, forearm dangling over the arm of the chair, fingers almost brushing the coarse carpet, I let the empty glass slip free, thud softly to the floor.
“You like her,” Flynn rumbles, all factually, unquestioning, he always knows.
“I don’t want to.” A truth, tangled in a lie. “I should hate her.”
“You shouldn’t, she never did anything to you, to us, your family. She’s never done anything but trust us, been as genuine as she’s able to be. But this shit, this is high school, bully-boy bullshit.” Flynn shifts, leaning forward, forearms resting on his knees. He lifts his chin, expression open, “She’s not okay,” he swallows, I hear it, my gaze on the floor, unblinking, unseeing. “She might need to get help.” He swallows again and guilt clogs my throat. “I think she might really need help now.”
I nod.
“We call the boys off.”
