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“Isaac?” I call out, turning around.
He catches me. “Yes?”
“The tip you got?”
I watch as a smile truly curves up on his mouth. “Well, let’s just say it was Anonymous.”
Fucking hell. Thoughts twist into knots over what and how I’m going to come to terms with not just everything that has unraveled, but handling the one thing I don’t think I’m strong enough to deal with.
Guilt.
Jade is the one person on this earth that I would straight-up kill, die, bend, snap, do anything for. She had me at her feet, ready to do whatever she wanted, but what if what she wants is to let me go.
I remember feeling fear for the first time in my life. It was when I saw Royce fall off his skateboard and skin his knees so bad that you could see bone. I cried for days because I thought he was going to die.
We’re back at the clubhouse an hour later, the realism of everything falling around the SUV like a heavy cloud. No one has spoken a word to each other, and Royce hasn’t so much as flinched near me. That same fear I felt when I was a kid, I feel now too. Please don’t leave me.
Wicked turns the car off and we all pile out, my knees weak and eyes sticky with fatigue. My phone starts ringing in my pocket and I take it out, seeing Sloane’s name on the screen.
I swipe it to answer. “Hi.”
“Oh my god! I just saw the news.”
I gulp past the nerves. Here comes the next part that we will have to live through. The shame. The pity. The “Oh my god, I wonder what he did to her!” All of that doesn’t mean anything to me, though.
“I know,” is all I manage to say, my throat parched and lips cracked. My skin itches to be washed, my eyes desperate for sleep.
“Are you okay?” she asks, and I love her for it. The simplicity of Sloane and I’s friendship has played a big part in my survival over the years. She helped keep my feet grounded, helped provide a normal life for me when I wasn’t with Kyle.
“I will be. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”
“I love you, Jade.”
“I love you too.” We both hang up and I take a moment to really look at the damage of the clubhouse. The shooting where Bonnie was standing, the blood on the ground from Kyle being dragged to the back of the house, the wired gates at the front shattered in the explosion.
“Royce,” Lion interrupts, but I’m still lost in the midst of the chaos that I don’t realize the tears that are streaming down my cheeks. “Take her home and come back tomorrow.”
Royce is by my side, his hand in mine as he directs me toward his car. “Come on.”
Wicked calls out as I slide into the passenger seat. “We’ll catch a ride.”
Forgetting that Wicked has been living with Royce, I slip the belt on across my chest and rest my forehead on the cool window. My arms are around my torso protectively, my lips trembling. It’s over. I don’t trust those words, even though my muscles relax at the thought. I don’t trust that he’s not going to escape and chase me, throwing me back into his world.
Car doors close behind me.
The V8 rumbles beneath my seat.
I close my eyes and blindly reach for the radio. I want to talk to Poppy, but right now I need nothing but music to fill the empty parts of myself. Music is the only thing powerful enough to fill the voids in your soul. Music is the language of healing, as Seether “I’ll Survive” plays through the speakers.
We arrive back to the cabin just under an hour later. Walking through the wooden doors was like coming home for the first time. I kick off my shoes near the door and begin undressing out of, tossing my clothes before I’ve even hit the hallway that leads to the bedrooms.
“Ahhh,” Royce says from somewhere behind me. “I get that Wicked has seen you in every which way, but we’re still going to need boundaries.”
I ignore him, heading straight for his bedroom and falling onto his bed. I know I should shower. I smell of death. But before I can fight with myself to get up, my eyes are already closed and darkness is taking hold.
My phone says 3:04 a.m. Three a.m. Swinging my legs over the bed while trying not to wake a sleeping Royce, I pad to the bathroom and turn on the shower. The whole wall is glass, which overlooks the ocean with a claw-foot tub sitting in the middle of the room. There’s a rainforest shower behind with no walls or curtains, the bathroom sink is floating, bolted to the wall. I have to text India and give her props on the décor of his house. Her small touches made it feel like a home.
