Page 141 of Toxic Kiss

“Did you find…oh shit.”

I look up, and Cy is standing in the bathroom doorway, toothbrush in hand, towel around his waist, staring at me.

“How do you have this?”

Gone is the warmth and kindness from moments ago. All I feel is a steely cold.

“It was in your bag, and it fell out.”

“I didn’t even have it with me,” I yell, taking an angry step toward him.

“You did. I swear. When we were loading the bus after you first arrived. Haven, I know I shouldn’t have taken it, but⁠—”

“Ugh! Stop, Cyrus. Oh my god, is this why you’re suddenly being nice to me? You now know all the dark workings of my poor tortured adolescent mind and want to make up for it? Or are you just learning all my weak spots? Arming yourself with more information.”

“Haven…I only read it because I wanted to understand why you left. I was angry at you, and when you dropped it, I just thought⁠—”

I hold up my hand, stopping him.

“I don’t even care why. The point is you did. We have spent weeks on the road together, and you’ve had this the whole time. You haven’t told me, and you kept reading it. Can you even begin to fathom what a violation of privacy this is?” My voice is rough with rage.

“Yes, I can. Every song I write and sing is for you, and I belt it out to the world. I know what it’s like to have my emotions out there for everyone to see. But you don’t care about that.”

I point at him and snarl.

“Don’t. Don’t turn this around and try to guilt me when you’re the one who fucked up. You write and choose to put those words out for consumption, I did not. They are private, they are mine and you…I can’t even look at you right now. I’ll meet you on the bus.”

Stomping out of the room, I turn my back on Cyrus.

“Haven? Haven, come back. Shit, Haven…”

Fuck you, Cyrus Vale.

chapter

thirty-six

“Tell me you hate me, lie if you must…but don’t ever tell me you don’t feel this too.” – Cyrus

CYRUS

Taking a drink of water, I glance off stage at Haven. When she is pissed, she can ignore you like it’s her fucking full-time job. Nine hours. Nine hours and she has yet to say a single word to me.

I can play dumb and act like I don’t know how we got here, but I get it. I took something personal and read it without her permission. It’s her stony, emotionless expression that’s too much.

The stomping and clapping of the cheering crowd slowly filters back. When I turn around and smirk, the screams are deafening as the vibrations travel through me.

Fuck this. I march toward Haven, and her eyes go wide as she takes a step back.

“What the hell are you doing?” She whispers as I snatch her wrist.

“Your father wants us to put on a show, right?”

I tug her toward the stage, but she may as well be wearing lead boots.

“You’re out of your mind if you think I’m going out there,” she says.

“You’re coming one way or another,” I warn.