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“Are you asking about Mom, or because of the fact that I have somehow landed in the middle of a trio I’m not sure I’m cut out for?” I pause, yanking my board out of the sand and slowly making my way to the ocean. I dip my toe into the water, and a smile touches my lips.
“You know, I’m not going to say what you think I am.”
“And what is that, Cooper?” I flick the water with my feet. “That I have definitely bitten off more than I can chew?”
I hold my breath, waiting for the judgment from him. I mean, what does that make me? No one in this day and age has a weird crush on three men all at the same time.
He flashes me a dazzling smile, one that makes his white teeth blinding. “I’m pretty sure you can chew just fine, Shiloh St. Claire.” He dives onto his board, paddling out.
Had I thought too much into what he would say? Possibly. Could he also be saving my feelings considering I had just lost my mom? Absolutely.
I didn’t want to dance. My arms were pulled up above my head like puppet strings, my head hanging between my shoulder blades. Everything hurt. My muscles ached and my stomach coiled as vomit threatened to surface.
A single spotlight burned down on me as I danced around the stage to the song. “Broken” by Amy Lee and Seether played continuously as my body moved. I tried to lift my head, willing to see what I was attached to, but it wouldn’t lift. My skin was marred from bruises and cuts as blood continued to seep out of the wound on my leg, dripping down my inner thigh. I would die here. I was sure of it. I tried to think of the last thing I remembered before waking here. In the forest. Already broken and bruised, but I couldn’t.
How long had I been here? At these people’s mercy? And why didn’t they just get it over with and kill me?
The song played again, and my feet slid over the old wooden floor. I didn’t know if I was swaying or if it was just my mind, but I was sure I was on a boat. Lost. At their mercy. Maybe this was the ship I last saw?
I didn’t know.
I was tired.
My eyes refused to stay open as they got heavier and heavier. A loud buzzing sound ripped through the air, and I finally lifted my head enough to look out in front of me as my arms moved again, flinging around the room.
I found him instantly. He was death.
Dion
The worst part about regret is the fact that you don’t know when it’s going to hit you. I remember Shiloh from when we were in kindergarten, sure, but that isn’t why we don’t like each other.
It’s actually a lot worse than that.
But even with the knowledge of that, and all of the buried memories that we both share, I feel bad for her. No one deserves to lose their mom, and as much as mine is a fucking pain in the ass, I wouldn’t fucking be right in the head if I lost mine… Yet.
“She seems fine, right?” Malyk asks from beside me.
Shiloh and Cooper are walking hand in hand down to the beach, and I still can’t figure out why it is that I care so fucking much.
“Yeah, wait!” I shake my head, turning to where he sits on the other side of the steps. “Why the fuck do you care?”
“Do you not know me?” The corner of his mouth curves. “I don’t. I’m just making sure our best interest is in capable hands since you have history with her, and Sparrow can’t seem to stay in the same fucking room as her for longer than fifteen minutes, and when he does need to, he fucking lets her go free.”
He has a point. Malyk, although manic at times, is usually the one who always makes sure we stay level-headed. Makes the right choices and moves what we need to move along at the right pace.
“You both always think with your dick.”
“And you don’t?” I joke, but then instantly regret it.
He turns his full attention to me. “I think you know the answer to that question.”
“You’re a scary motherfucker.” I lean up to reach into my back pocket, pulling out the rolled joint. “Wonder if she’ll smoke this.”
“She smokes. You can tell.”
“How?” I jerk my head back in disbelief, lighting the end of the rolled J.
“She smells of it sometimes. You can see it in her eyes too.”
