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Chapter fourteen

Breakfast goes about as well as you’d expect.

Valerie and her friends decided to cut out for Phoenix early, dragging Tyson with them and leaving me behind with what was left of my broken band of friends. We must have been quite the sight—trudging somberly into the restaurant looking half-dead, all of us hungover except for Taylor and Huck. What should’ve been a celebratory trip had spiraled into something bitter and raw, the tension between us thick enough to choke on.

I sip my orange juice, the acidity burning my dry throat, but it’s not enough to distract me from the urge to glare daggers at Devon across the table. Try as I might, I can’t stop the heat building behind my eyes or the way my jaw clenches every time he so much as breathes.

Not only is the image of his pierced dick now branded into my brain, but so are the words inked permanently onto his ass.

Xed was here.

My best friend’s name is forever on his body. I don’t like it, and I don’t like the thought of them together, but as Xed so kindly stated this morning, it’s none of my business. Who he’s with is none of my business. I can’t control that.

Who I let around my daughter, though…

“Xed, hang on.” I catch his arm just as he’s about to climb into the car with Salem and Christian, ignoring the scowl he throws my way. “Ride with me? We need to catch up.”

He hesitates, deliberating long enough that my chest tightens. For a split second, I’m sure he’s going to refuse, but relief washes over me when he yanks the door open and slides into the passenger seat of the Benz.

His mohawk brushes the roof as he settles in, spiked high and longer than I’ve ever seen it. “How long of a drive is this?” he asks roughly, his tone clipped.

“Three hours.” I glance at the GPS as I merge onto the road.

“Fuckin’ great,” he mutters, crossing his arms and pressing himself into the door like he can’t stand to be near me.

That’s how our trip starts. Xed angled away from me, radiating irritation while I half-heartedly sing along to the Fearless album by Taylor Swift, trying to chip away at the wall he’s built between us. Halfway through "Love Story," he punches the mute button, drowning us in silence.

“Since when do you listen to this shit?” he mutters, rubbing his temples.

“Since Hannah and Val started playing it on repeat. It’s not bad, honestly.”

“Hannah likes pop music now?” His glare could burn holes in the windshield.

I shift uncomfortably, gripping the wheel tighter. “Valerie isn’t much of a rock n’ roll fan. Says it gives her migraines.”

Xed scoffs, his gaze snapping back to the window, and the chasm between us feels impossibly wide.

Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I square my shoulders. “Look, Xed, I wanted to talk to you about Devon.”

His gold-flecked eyes swing toward me. “What about him?”

Here we go.

“I don’t know him. Never met him until yesterday, and I don’t feel comfortable allowing him around Hannah.”

“What the fuck are you trying to say?” he spits, his tone harsh enough to make me flinch.

“My parents’ house is small. There aren’t many rooms. Some of us will have to share, and I’m not letting a stranger sleep under the same roof as my daughter.”

Xed leans forward, his face red with barely restrained anger. “Devon’s not a stranger, Matthew. He’s Logan’s uncle. I’ve known him for over a year—"

“And I haven’t,” I cut him off, my voice firm. “He’s not staying with us. End of story.”

“Fine.” Digging into his jacket, Xed pulls out his phone. “Pull over. I’ll have him take me back to Vegas on his bike.”

“What? No, Xed—"

“If he’s not welcome, then neither am I.”