Page 65 of Anthem of Love and Loathing

He moves his fingers from side to side once. “Answer the question.”

“I had nowhere else to go.” I hate admitting it. Hate that while he flourished I didn’t just flounder but barely survived.

“Nowhere else to go.” A look of disgust on his face, he draws his hand out of my panties. His stare is blunt and disbelieving. “Or you fucked someone else over and you’re running from them.”

“You don’t know anything about me.” I shove him, eyes stinging and vision wavering. “What happened to make you such a prick? You used to be a good man.”

Although that might be generous. He was, at least, a good friend. Or was I deluded about that too?

“You did,” he says flatly. “You broke me, Kelsey Peterson. You ruined my fucking life.”

I laugh. It’s wet and sour and makes me want to cry, but I laugh. “It doesn’t look like your life is ruined.”

Rushing out before he can say, do, or blame me for anything else, I’m surrounded by sympathetic stares. Not only from the guys, but from the photographer and the stylist and their assistants.

Heat crawls up my throat and into my face. Did they hear my whimpers before our fight? Did they hear me beg?

Bronx takes a step in my direction. “Kells—”

“No.” I’m shaking. The back of my eyes are burning. “Don’t come near me.”

He stops where he is. Kodiak and Golden both look at me like they feel sorry for me.

But they don’t need to be. I collect my jacket from the couch. Shrugging into it, I hurry to the exit before any of the others realize I’m leaving.

Out on the street, I let the pain overwhelm me. I drag in thick breaths that don’t relieve the tightness in my lungs at all as I rush along the pavement.

Maybe I should have told him about Marco. About poor dead Heaven. About Loverboi. But what would it change?

It’s better if I don’t involve anyone else anyway. Just get through the next few months and disappear somewhere new.

Eventually I run out of steam and I slow. I shrug deeper into my jacket when the wind picks up, whipping strands of my hair around and into my eyes.

My nape prickles.

It’s probably Rook. There’s no way he didn’t follow me out of the shoot. Even so, I spin around to check.

Something catches the corner of my eye, but it’s gone before I can make sense of it. It did look like a person stepping back into the shadows. Didn’t it? I would swear it did.

I scan the area while I pull out my phone to try and work out where I am. Is this closer to the hotel or the photo shoot? Should I head back or keep going in the direction I’m heading?

My pulse gets faster the longer I’m out here alone. Not moving. But I can’t load my maps for some reason.

Rook is suddenly in front of me. “Stay close.”

I stick to him as he moves toward the spot where I thought I saw someone. Maybe one of Marco’s guys. Or even Marco himself. It turns out to be an alleyway I somehow didn’t notice. A line of dumpsters sit against one wall. “I need to warn you—"

“Show yourself,” Rook orders when something moves at the far end of the dumpsters.

The guy that steps out looks tattered and rough around the edges, but he doesn’t give off Marco level danger vibes. His gaze is desperate.

Rook’s posture loosens. “Tell me, were you planning on mugging the lady?”

“I need money.” The man lurches toward us.

“I don’t have any,” I admit.

“You do. Look at you,” the man says.