West’s lips were moving, and I focused past the roaring in my ears.
“…You’re gonna realize you need me, Crowne.”
I dragged my hand across my jaw. “Right. Like I need a fucking STD.”
The muscles beneath my ear were in pain from grinding my teeth and I was on the verge of tackling West to the ground.
So I turned, for the future Story saw.
West yelled to my back. “I’m the only one trying to keep our girl alive!”
Sixteen
GRAY
OUR GIRL.
Our girl?
I think I short-circuited. I spun and slammed West into the wall before my next breath. “Our girl? There is no our girl.”
The hallway was empty, only our rippled reflections cast in the glass window.
Every day I remember how he felt inside me.
I pressed my forearm into his neck until the veins popped.
And now I can’t differentiate them inside my head.
Deeper—his Adam’s apple digging into my skin.
A deep, gnawing cavern of self-loathing.
He was hurting her. I could see crossing the line, ending it here.
He coughed, sputtering, “You fucking need me.”
A wave of black washed over my eyes; I could barely see West past the throbbing in my skull.
He was hurting her.
West gripped my forearm, pulling it off enough to cough out the words: “All this reuniting the family shit is bullshit. My father burned down du Lac Manor just to force your hand so we could stay here. He burned down a house with centuries of history. A house he got a boner just talking about. Just for the chance at a coin. ”
There it was again, that knot in my gut.
Fear.
Everyone knew more than us.
But I schooled my features, I lied.
“I don’t see what the fuck this fairy tale has to do with me or Story.”
He laughed. “You’re just as shit at lying as she is. I already know you’re looking for it, Gray. You sent her a lot of texts.”
I slammed my knee into his gut and West doubled over. I knew she didn’t get my texts, but West reading them? I stepped back, dragging my hands through my hair.
After West caught his breath, he spoke again. “Who is that coin connected to, Gray? Who the fuck had it last?”