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Not that I’m going to apologize.
Kinda want Renee to wake up so I can hit her a few more times.
But my whole life, the pattern has been fight, get punished, defend myself, get punished, hurt someone, get punished.
So, I can’t sink into the cocoon of the guys’ coddling. “Do I have to get questioned or anything?”
Atlas rumbles. “No one questions you.”
“You do what the fuck you want, Star.” Finn drops next to Jett, not caring that his brother’s having a moment, just worming in so I’ll pet his head too.
I scratch his scalp until he purrs.
“I can do anything?” I spot a kid in the front row with saucer eyes and a tray of nachos.
Bet if I stole them, the guys would say I needed them more.
But why would I have to steal?
If I asked, they’d bring me fifty trays of chips, feed me by hand, and let me lick hot cheese from their fingers.
My head spins, so I ground myself, stroking Finn and Jett like lap animals.
I think I’m drunk.
On power and bloodlust and their touch.
Then I catch the motion in the stands—the only ones in the crowd who aren’t watching the Wyverns fuss over me in open-mouthed shock.
Sorensens are walking out, showing me their backs.
I smell smoke.
Just not sure if it’s Hunter or the bridge I finally fucking incinerated.
THIRTY-FOUR
JETT
I can’t remember what it’s like to not be frozen. Keeping that icy distance is the only reason I survived.
But the ice inside me thaws at Lilah’s touch.
Her warm fingers in my hair.
Lilac never changed.
She’s sweet and true and loyal and fierce.
I don’t deserve her, but I can’t run.
Won’t escape or fade away.
She took revenge.
For me.
For me.
