Page 142 of The Rogues

She turns to my mate. “Did you know, Cyrus?”

He nods. “A few months into our relationship, I started seeing things that I saw in the rock world. I thought I was imagining it at first. But one time we went out, and she had been in the bathroom for a long time, so I went to check on her. I thought maybe she was being harassed by a fan or something similar, but then I walked in and saw her snorting a line of cocaine. That was when I knew I needed to pull back from our relationship.”

My lips flatten, because he told me this story the other day. They may not have been actually dating, but he did catch her once and she blew up at him. It still hurts to think about. My entire perception of their feud was completely wrong.

“Did you tell her that?”

Another nod. “I think she felt hurt by me calling it off. I’ve never agreed with that kind of lifestyle, and she didn’t understand that I didn’t want to be around it, even recreationally. And then there’s Jamie…”

“Who you were falling in love with,” she guesses.

Albeit wrong, Cyrus has to agree with a nod. “It had been a long time coming, but we finally allowed ourselves to unfold the feelings that were always there. That’s why it didn’t work out with Cleo, and why the aftermath lingered for way too long. I was upset that she tried to make me into the villain when it came to our breakup, and she was afraid that I was going to tell someone about her drug use.”

It’s the sprinkle of truth he is allowed. All of the back and forth, all of their jabs at each other. Cleo was trying to discredit him because she hated that he knew this vulnerable information about her.

And here we are, airing it out anyway.

I think I’m going to be sick.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone about it?” she asks.

Cyrus flattens his lips for a second, and I know he’s working through what to say, what bits of truth to slide in. “Substance abuse has such a stigma attached to it. I’ve never once thought of Cleo as a bad person, and I still don’t. Addiction is a disease, and I think she deserves all the grace in the world as she works through it.”

My heart swells. Those weren’t words given to him from his publicist; they are completely his own. I can see it plain as day how much he means them, how much this interview is hurting him just as much as it’s hurting me.

“Have you heard from her?” Silva inquires, pulling me from my moment of awe.

I go to talk, but Cyrus squeezes my hand once more. “She is safe, in a facility that can help her. We have high hopes. And we’re going to be there to support her every step of the way.”

It’s honest, and I know he sees how much I appreciate it when he sees my face soften. I am going to support her; I just have to wait for her to let me.

When we get home, the guys are waiting for us, their energies a collective calm. They are patient with me as I change out of my clothes and into comfier ones, letting me decompress before I come back to where they are waiting for me. Their bodies form a makeshift nest on the living room couch, and I climb in the middle, needing them all in equal vicinity, their scents surrounding me in a lulling song.

They speak sweet words to me, whispering praises even though they know I feel nothing but guilt for what Cyrus and I had to do. Doing that interview, having to bend the truth, makes me feel selfish, but they remind me that I didn’t have a choice. Our careers, our lives, are full of obligations, and we are the drivers that must fulfill them.

“She still hasn’t called me back,” I murmur, the pain of that once again puncturing me right in the chest. Not just because it stings with rejection, but because even after everything she’s done, I still had the grace to be there for her, and she didn’t pick up.

“She will,” Cyrus tells me, his voice firm. “Give her time, Omega. Cleo will return to herself. You have to be patient.”

Remi puts on one of my favorite anime movies as Lennon gets the takeout from the delivery driver outside.

“Who got the sashimi?” he asks as he walks back in.

“That’s Josie’s,” Jamie says, taking the bag from him. They all work to pull everything out and spread it across the coffee table.

“It looks really good,” Malaki comments, leering near me.

Remi flicks him. “That’s her sashimi.”

“Hey!” my blue-haired alpha shrieks, dramatically holding the side of his head. “I just wanted a bite.”

“You can have a bite,” I laugh. “As long as I can have some of your gyoza.”

“You could have half of them if you so pleased, Bubbles.”

He happily places a few on my plate and my smile beams. When Jamie places an extra container of eel sauce beside me, it gets even brighter.

The guys all start to discuss the movie, confused by the discreet way the two teenagers are switching bodies, and it turns into a playfully heated argument on who is guessing the correct plot twist. Lennon looks at me with a smirk since we’re the only ones who actually know how this movie turns out.