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Present
If I have to watch Cartier prance around Europe with another fucking toy on her arm, I’m going to chop hers off and send it to Kyrin as a suicide request.
“Lilith still hasn’t come out?” I ask Kyrin as he flicks Sass’ fire sticks around the air like a juggler.
“Nope,” Kyrin answers but doesn’t stop what he’s doing.
“You think you should maybe fucking tell her?” I swipe through my Instagram, stopping on a photo Cartier posted five minutes ago.
“No, because he had said not to. Something’s wrong. There’s more to whatever he has done or is doing—” he blows out the fire ends and tosses them onto the dirt ground, “—and he hasn’t told me for a reason.” It has been five weeks since we had Christmas with Madison, Bishop, and the rest of the EKC—sans Eli—and in those weeks, it’s as though Lilith has become worse. She’s retreated into her shell more, after finally coming out after having them both. I know she needs them both, not just one, but fuck. I don’t know how they do it with three of them, fucking one is enough.
“Yeah, I mean, I get that.” Should I like this photo or not? She’s perched on her bike, her teal hair in the wind and tucked beneath her helmet. The greenery of the forest sits behind her like an oil painting and I zoom in on the forest, my eyes narrowing as recognition slaps me across the face. Motherfucker.
“Hey, boys…” Her voice barrels in from behind me and I squeeze my phone in my hand, clenching my jaw. She went AWOL for fucking months, and every time she does it, I become angrier at her.
“What the fuck!” Kyrin waves his arms up. “Where have you been?”
She drops down on the chair beside me, crossing her leg over the other. Her familiar perfume is like a memory being replayed across my mind. My leg muscles tense when her bare thigh grazes mine. “Well, I think you and I both know where I’ve been.” I clench my fists to stop myself from choking her to death.
My phone starts vibrating in my hand, and I push up from the plastic chair, swiping it to answer without looking because that’s the kind of dumb shit she does to me.
“What?”
“Aw, is that a way to greet your girl?” My lip curls, but I fight the urge to cuss her out, ducking between the other small stages. It’s not until I’ve slid behind the triple ring of death and I’m back outside that I answer.
“Fuck you. What do you want?”
She laughs on the other end, her voice coming in at barely a whisper. “We have a problem that needs to be taken care of. How soon can you get here?” I turn back to face the tent when my eyes land on Cartier, brows raised and arms folded across her chest. She looks way too fucking good right now—way too good—because all I want to do is fucking strangle her until she begs me to stop.
Typical problems when it comes to her.
“Tomorrow is the earliest. Got a target here before I leave.”
Cartier’s mouth curves upward.
“I’ll see you at noon tomorrow.”
I slide my phone down my face when Cartier stops within earshot, pushing it back into my pocket while keeping my eyes on hers. “How long have you been back?”
Her mouth opens, momentarily distracting me from my own question. She has the perfect lips. Soft, full, and swollen. “Two days.”
My eyes fall down her body. Booty shorts, Vans, and a little crop top that shows a slit of her belly. “And you’ve been riding?” No one needed to tell Cartier how to ride. She is just as good, if not slightly better, than us. The fact that she has been dancing around the triple ring of death and knows how to ride the rings too speaks for itself.
“Yes.” Her face is free of makeup, her hair tied in a high ponytail. She pushes from the threshold, closing the distance between us. “Who was on the phone just then?”
I stare down at her, making sure to keep myself anchored before I get too lost in her gaze. “Oh, how you would love to know…”
“Actually, I wouldn’t.” Her shoulder slams against mine in passing, but my fingers catch hers and we both pause at the fire that burns between us. She turns to face me. “What’s the matter?”
“Where are you going? Are you back for good?”
“Never.” She flashes a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. I see behind the words she speaks. “Always just for a little while.” She breaks our connection and I watch as she swings her leg over her KTM and shoots forward, heading toward the lake house, no doubt. After the recruit a year ago, she threw herself completely into a bratty phase. It fucking drove me crazy, but seeing her now seems different. She seems… off.
“Did she know anything?” Kyrin passes me, and I follow him to where our bikes are parked.
“I didn’t ask her about Eli.”
“I’m fucking frustrated and desperate to find out what the fuck is going on, and since they were so close for the entire three years, I’d bet that she knows something more than what she’s letting on.” He is right. Cartier definitely knows more about Eli.
