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Archer sighs, stepping aside as I make my way toward the guy leaning against the side of the wooden boat, looking nonchalant and uncaring as he watches me with narrowed eyes.
He says nothing until I’m feet in front of him, and I feel as if I’m hallucinating. There’s no way. He left.
He left me.
I lift my hand, ready to touch his face to test my theory, when his hand snaps out, his fingers wrapping around my wrist, lowering it to my side.
“Lakyn.” His voice rumbles, straight through his arm and into my chest, slicing my fragile heart.
I pull my wrist from his fingers, wondering if there will be prints left in its wake. I can feel the warmth spread up my arm, heating my skin and all the way to my bones. Glancing down, I see nothing but my creamy skin. Yet, the throb persists, as if the pain is internal, like Reign’s power never abated, and he has always had the control to cripple me completely.
“What’re you doing here?” I ask him, my voice breathless. I feel winded, like I just ran a mile, when the truth is, I’m more in shape than I’ve ever been in my life.
He pushes off the railing, coming to his full height.
Fuck.
He’s always been gorgeous, but now he’s on a different level. He’s only five years older than me, but it’s always felt like more than that. And as he stands in front of me right now, with his thick, corded muscles, and his sharp jawline, covered in a dark scruff that I know is both rough and soft as it scratches against my skin, he couldn’t look more like a man. One that could move mountains and take over the world.
Though, he’s also changed. The last time I saw Reign was three years ago, and he had a tattoo on his chest, a large reaper that extended from his abdomen and up to his upper chest. It was always a little scary, with the long scythe dripping blood from the end.
Now, as he stands in front of me, I can see he’s only gotten more as time has gone on. Both arms are covered in tattoos, extending behind his sleeves and up his back. The front of his neck also holds a skull with its mouth hanging open, the eyes dark pools of inky black.
I shiver.
Reign has always held a darkness about him, but now he seems untouchable.
He blends into the night with his black joggers and t-shirt. His hair a little messy, wavy and long on the top while remaining short on the sides. It’s a dark chocolate brown that borders on black, matching his thick, lush eyelashes that brush his sharp cheekbones. Behind them are brown eyes. His face is more cut than it used to be, his cheekbones more defined, his nose sharp, slightly broad, with plump lips, and a square jaw.
The man standing in front of me is the same, yet so different.
He’s by far the most handsome man I’ve ever met in my life, and I know the entire population would think the same. Though, there was once a time when he only had eyes for me. He was the glue to our crew back in the day, holding us together with his wisdom and knowledge.
He always had a dark edge to him, our relationship filled with tension and danger. His father is part of the House of Representatives, though the wealth has never interested Reign, just as it hasn’t interested the rest of us. Reign has always done what he wanted, claiming me without a second thought, and being in high school at the time, I fell to my knees in a prayer stance and hoped he’d never leave my side.
Until one day, he gripped his bare fingers around my full heart and squeezed every ounce of love from it without a second thought. He told me he was leaving and never coming back, and it was the end of us. Our existence was over in the blink of an eye, and everything I thought we had was dust left to float away in the wind.
Breaking my heart. Breaking my soul. Breaking me.
“Word travels far about a murderer in my small little hometown of Hellcrest Heights. I had to come see if the rumors were true,” he rumbles, his voice deeper, a little raspy, as the words roll off his tongue.
My jaw clenches, my spine straightening as I stare at him in irritation, in shame. He knew the rebel I used to be, though him knowing I killed the guy who was thrusting between my thighs is a new level of shame I’m not prepared for.
I can only hope he doesn’t know the entire story.
“I can assure you, there’s no story to tell,” I clip.
A brow lifts. “I beg to differ.”
He watches me with blank eyes, and I barely pay attention to the chaos of the college kids around me, my eyes only focused on the man who looks at me like he despises me.
Stepping closer to me, his hand lifts, a tattooed finger grazing just below my chin. “I’d always wondered who you’d end up with after I left. I should’ve known Archer was going to step in.”
My eyes flare, and I glance over my shoulder, my gaze landing on Archer and Kyler as they talk to one another. Archer’s mouth moves, though his eyes remain on mine, a hostility within them that has no right to be there in the first place.
Archer and I were always temporary, barely legal enough to be considered a relationship. He knew it, I knew it, which is why we fell back into a friendship so easily.
Archer isn’t jealous. He doesn’t want my heart; he just doesn’t want anyone else to have it, either.
