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“No, it’s not fucking clear,” King roars, pushing deeper into my bedroom. “You’re fucking pissed, I get that. I’d be fucking livid if I were you too, but this is our family at stake, not yours. So yeah, call me a cold-hearted asshole, but when it comes to protecting my little brother and sister, I’ll do whatever the fuck it takes, even if it means hurting you in the process.”
Fuck Carver and the glass. I throw myself up. “You don’t think I know that?” I demand, stepping right in front of King and shoving my hand hard into his chest. “You don’t think that after everything we’ve been through that I don’t see all of your siblings as my own? I stood in front of Carver with a fucking gun and begged him to take my life so he could deliver my dead body to Paris and see the safe return of your siblings. So, fuck you, Hunter King. Don’t underestimate my loyalty, and don’t fucking make excuses for your betrayal. You made a split-second decision without thinking it through and it was the worst one you could have made. You put my life at risk. You fucking gutted me, made me question whether I could trust the four men who swore to protect me, the four men who told me that they loved me. You couldn't trust me to help save your family, so you fucking broke me instead. You all fucking did.”
King clenches his jaw, his eyes swimming with a sea full of regret and pain, knowing I’m damn right as Grayson stands straighter, a rare show of emotion pouring out of his broken gaze, but I don’t linger on it. Instead, I turn toward Cruz, the one whose betrayal cut the deepest.
“You,” I say, stepping toward him and focusing on the way his pained green eyes focus heavily on mine. “You broke my fucking heart. You were the one who was always supposed to have my back. They’re all cold, shallow, and heartless, but you … you were pure. You were the one I thought would never break me.”
His heart shatters before my very eyes and the sight almost has me breaking into tears, but I don’t dare shed a tear for him, for any of them. I won’t allow myself to be vulnerable like that until they can earn my trust back, but it won’t be easy. I fell for them too quickly the first time, but now, I have my wits about me. I won’t be fooled so easily.
Fool me once, that’s on you. Fool me twice, and that’s going to weigh on me for the rest of my life.
Carver steps into my back, placing a hand on my shoulder like I’m some kind of rabid animal needing to be tamed. He pulls me back a step and gives Cruz a moment to pull himself together as he looks at Grayson and King. “Let’s just take a minute to chill out,” he says. “What’s going on with the kids? You’re dressed for a fucking raid.”
Grayson nods. “We are,” he confirms. “We think we’ve got them. We’re just waiting for one more bit of intel to come through to confirm, and then we’re going in. Fuck Paris and her demands, I want my brother back where I know he’s safe.”
“Fucking hell,” Carver says, running his fingers through his hair and nodding. “How much longer?”
King shakes his head. “No idea. We’ve been waiting all fucking morning, but seeing as though you’re here, you might as well suit up. We’re going to need every set of hands available.”
“Cover your face, though,” Grayson adds. “The whole fucking town thinks you’re dead along with Ellie. You can’t be seen, unless you’ve already blown your damn cover gallivanting through Ravenwood Heights like you haven’t got a fucking care in the world.”
Carver’s fist slices through the air and slams against Grayson’s jaw like a fucking freight train. No warning, no wind up, not another fucking word spoken between them. Though nothing needs to be said, Carver said everything with that one punch.
Grayson simply nods, accepting his errors and taking responsibility for speaking out of line. Carver is a tough guy and can handle a hell of a lot more than most, but speak ill about his intentions and loyalties, and you better start counting your days. I’ve learned that the hard way, but right now, I have every right to question him. Grayson is different though. The boys share a brotherhood that allows them to get away with murder, but if they’re pushed too far, someone might just end up knocked out for a few good days.
Not wanting to hang around for their bullshit, I cut through the guys and peel off my old shitty clothes, throwing them in a pile on the ground before searching through my closet for my favorite black leather high waisted pants, combat boots and a long-sleeved cotton shirt.
