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It turns me to dust.
“I would never give up that part of myself ever again. Most of all to you, Reign,” I tell him honestly. He broke me into pieces, and I’ve put myself back together. I can’t go there again.
His eyes narrow, as if he’s displeased by my words. His hand snaps out suddenly, wrapping around the back of my neck. He hauls me toward him, pressing his lips against my jaw. “You’ve always been dangerous, Lakyn, but I’ve never really played it safe.”
I glance up at him, feeling like I’ve grown up with these guys, all of them who have kept me on my toes every day of my life. Yet Reign… he always seems to knock me off my feet.
CHAPTER FOUR
LAKYN
“Idon’t want to go,” I groan from the foot of my bed, staring into my floor-to-ceiling mirror. My black Nirvana shirt slopes over my shoulder, the back of the fabric cut out, showing off most of my spine. Paired with a pair of ripped jeans, and my Chucks, I know this is the perfect outfit to piss off my father. It’s the reason I wore this instead of the pants and cashmere sweater he would expect from me.
Though, for the life of me, I can’t find the desire to make them happy anymore. Not after they shoved me across the country. Not after kicking me out. My fucks have run dry.
But I know I wouldn’t be able to skate away from this dinner and not show up. George would be here in a heartbeat. Clearly, these guys aren’t worried about handling me or bringing me somewhere against my will. I’m sure dinner with my parents wouldn’t be any different.
“You know you have to go and get it over with. Your parents won’t be very happy if you ditch them,” Posie says, staring at me through my mirror.
“I know,” I sigh, pulling my wavy blonde hair up into a high ponytail. I fix it until it’s slightly messy, and then turn to face her. She’s been kind of off today, and I have a feeling it’s about last night.
“Posie,” I say.
She glances up from her phone, her brows lifting.
“Is everything okay? You’ve been kind of quiet.”
She nods, dropping her phone to my mattress. She runs her fingers through her hair. “I’m fine.”
My brows lower. “Are you sure?” I walk across my rug, sitting next to her on my bed. “Is this about last night? Inside the boat?”
She sighs, looking at me with a hint of fear. “I just don’t know why someone would put blood on the walls. Did someone think it would be funny or something?”
I shake my head. “If it’s a game, it’s a pretty fucked-up one.”
Her eyes grow watery, and she blinks away the tears. “I think about him, you know.Zane. About how he looked. Burying him. It plays on a loop sometimes in my brain. What we did to him. It was pretty fucked up.”
Memories flash through my mind of that night. I have the same images on a constant repeat. “I know, Posie. I know exactly what you’re saying. I didn’t… I didn’t want him to die.”
She turns toward me, pulling her leg up on the bed as she shifts. She fiddles with the edges of my fuzzy blanket at the end of the mattress. “What he did was fucked. How he spoke to you… he clearly wasn’t a good guy. But who were we to play God? To decide who gets life or death.”
I sigh, falling onto my back. I stare up at the tall ceilings, the rich wooden crown moldings in the corners. “We shouldn’t have killed him. I regret it every day… yet there’s this dark part of me that doesn’t. He knew what he was getting into for fucking with me. For fucking with all of us.”
I turn my head toward her, seeing her eyes on mine. “Yeah. You’re right. I know you’re right. It just… it sucks.”
I sit up, shoving off my bed. I can’t think about this right now. The moment I start, I’ll spiral into the dark dungeon of my brain. “I should go.”
Posie stands, walking over to me and wrapping her arms around my waist. “I’ll see you in a few hours. Don’t freak out… or set anything on fire.”
I shove her away from me, chuckling. “You act like I’m a pyro.”
Her eyes widen dramatically. “You are a pyro, Lakyn. You light shit on fire when you’re angry.”
A car honks, and I groan. “That must be George.” Walking to my dresser, I grab my small black leather backpack, slipping the thin strap over my shoulder. “Well, I know where my parents keep the matches if they piss me off.”
Posie laughs. “Call me if it gets too bad.”
I nod to her, heading out of my room and down the stairs. The windows are open, and the curtains blow in the light breeze. I walk around the stairs to the front door.
