“I know you wanted to spill your guts. Just with words instead.”
I moan, holding my middle.
“It’s your boyfriend, isn’t it? The guy you didn’t want me to tell Dad about. He’s from that gang, just like Dad said?”
“It’s not a gang,” I mumble at my lap.
“But he’s a bad dude?”
“No,” I whisper harshly. “He’s not bad.”
Ash’s eyebrow cocks. “He knows bad people?”
My mouth waters, and the jitters spasm in my stomach again. I press my hand into my gut and moan. “Shoosh, Ash. I can’t do this again.”
Ash gets up, and something scary flashes in his eyes. “I’ll take that as a yes, then.”
I swallow hard and force myself to stand. “Don’t say anything.” It comes out desperate and strained as my knees knock together. “You don’t know the truth.”
Ash points at me. “Then you’d better come out with it, and fast.”
He turns toward the door, and there’s fury in his pace.
“Ash?” Dad calls. “Where are you going?”
“To check on Christie,” he mutters, leaving the room.
A weak breath escapes me, and I plonk back down on the bench.
“Are you okay, honey?” Dad asks.
I nod, leaning back against the wall. “Yeah.” I sigh. “Just exhausted.”
He smiles kindly. “Understandable. You should get some rest.”
Damp with sweat, my hair sticks to the sides of my face. I swallow something disgusting stuck in my throat, and peel myself off the bench.
Twenty-Seven
EverytimeClaudiatriedto coax me off the floor, I didn't budge. As soon as I walked into my bedroom, I pulled the throw blanket off the bed and cocooned myself on the floor. With ugliness swarming inside, I don’t deserve the comfort of a bed.
My parents sent more staff to tend to me, but when I continued in my comatose state, they eventually left me alone. All night, I shivered under the heavy blanket.
Despite being on the floorboards, I wasn’t cold.
I was heartbroken.
As the morning glow mocks me with its happiness, I pick at the joints between the floorboards. My itchy eyes are half open. My chapped lips are parted, allowing my mouth to dry out further. I stop scraping my fingernails against the floor only when a twinge surges up every digit.
I twitch under the blanket, replaying the moment Dax stood over me as I hid in the closet. My stomach churns, and I scrunch myself into a tighter ball.
He held his hand over my mouth.
Men from his motorcycle club walked through my home as if they were invited.
And they were.
By the boy who’s supposed to care about me.
