Page 69 of These Defiant Souls


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“What happened to you, Zane? What made you this way?”

Because he was so cruel. Acting out like a child who hadn’t learned to express his emotions.

It occurred to me, maybe he hadn’t.

He pressed the back of his head into the wall, his eyes boring into mine. Daring me. Challenging me. But I wasn’t so easily broken now. Because every time he hurt me, my skin grew a little thicker. And every time I learned another piece of the Zane Washington puzzle, my heart grew a little wiser.

“Is it so wrong that I care? That I want to be your friend?”

“Friend?” he practically spat the words. “Do you think I look at you and see a friend?”

“Okay, so what do you see when you look at me?”

His lip curled with devious intention. “I really don’t think you want to know the answer to that.”

There was something in his gravelly voice that made my insides quiver and tighten. This boy was completely under my skin, but I was under his too.

“You think you know me, know what my life’s like. But you’re wrong, Zane. And you’re too stubborn to see that. To even consider that maybe I’m a good person. That maybe life isn’t so rosy for me either.”

I don’t know why it mattered what he thought about me, but it did. I wanted him to give me a chance, I wanted to prove him wrong. Maybe it was the perfectionist in me, the girl raised to believe she could be anything, do anything. But I’d met my match in Zane Washington. He was the one problem I couldn’t solve.

And he frustrated me to no end.

Silence hung between us. Thick and suffocating. But he watched me. He watched me like he couldn’t take his eyes off me.

I only wished he would talk to me. To let me in.

To let me help.

We were different, sure. Our lives, our experiences, our views on the world. But that didn’t make us enemies. It didn’t—

“How would you help me?” he said, surprising me. “What would you do to make it all better?”

“I… w-what?”

“You keep telling me you care, that you want to help. So I’m asking you how?” A wicked glint shone in his eyes, and it felt like a trap.

“You can… you can talk to me.” I swallowed, my throat dry, my heart crashing inside my chest.

“Talk… I don’t need to talk, Celeste. I have Nix and Kye for that.” He dragged his thumb over his bottom lip, the intensity of his eyes stealing the air from my lungs. “So maybe you should tell me just exactly how you plan on helping me?”

Zane’s stare turned hard, smug even. He knew he had me. He knew he’d won this round. Because he wasn’t talking about me being his friend at all. He was talking about something else entirely, something I wasn’t sure I wanted to entertain.

“Yeah.” A resigned huff left him. “Didn’t think so.” He climbed to his feet and gave me one last cold look. “Go home, Celeste.”

Zane stalked back inside, pausing at the door. For a second, I thought he might turn around and say something else, but he didn’t. It was almost as if he was disappointed.

Disappointed in me.

I couldn’t help but think I’d failed some kind of test.

And if there was one thing I hated more than anything, it was failing.

* * *

I found out that Miriam had passed out during her meeting with Mr. Clarkson. The EMTs had been leaving as I walked to my car, and I overheard them discussing it.

It didn’t take much to deduce they were talking about Miriam.

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