They faded to smiles, which faded to nothing, and we all grew quiet, discomfort and awkwardness chilling the air as we remembered we hated each other.
Years ago, this was what it was like with us. Before we realized fun had a price, and anger clouded everything as we latched on to anyone to blame.
Especially me.
Tonight was a bittersweet reminder of everything I’d ruined, and they hadn’t forgotten that it was mostly my fault.
We’d happily fallen back into the things that helped us find each other for a few minutes. The same needs, the same passion for thrills, and the same desire to break away from restraints.
But they couldn’t forgive.
And this couldn’t happen.
“Hey, where have you guys been?” Rika walked over to us with Winter in tow.
I looked at her, but her head was down and turned away, as if she were trying to be invisible.
Michael went over and pulled Rika into him, hefting her up into his arms. “We were doing manly things.”
“Manly things?” she asked, not believing it for a second.
But he just slapped her on the ass, gripping her flesh through her dress. “Let’s go to the car for a minute.”
“Michael!” she scolded as he carried her away, what he wanted clear.
The rest of us stood there for about two seconds, the wait of their silence enough to kill the fun I’d just had.
I grabbed the backpack with my mask inside and looked at Will. “If she’s not home by two,” I gestured to Winter, “my security will bring her home. Don’t test me.”
I left, strolling past her and definitely wanting another piece of her soon, half-tempted to drag her home now, but I wasn’t giving in. I didn’t want her to know I craved it. The sex would not become habit. It was a move in the game, and I needed to figure out my next one.
Later that night, I woke with a start. Two sharp pangs hit me, one on my neck, next my throat, and anothe
r on my side, between my ribs. I sucked in a breath, feeling the sting of broken skin.
“What is it about me that makes you so angry?” I heard Winter ask in a soft voice.
I raised my eyes, finally realizing she was straddling me on the bed, two blades dug into my skin.
Kitchen knives?
I spread my fingers where my arms laid at my side, itching to grab her and throw her off me. I knew I could do it before she stabbed me, but…
I’d been concerned with my next move instead of anticipating hers.
I remained still, the sheets cool and soft and the room silent and black.
“What about me makes you so angry?” she asked again, still just as calm.
“Three years,” I said.
Three years in jail for doing something she wanted me to do.
“But it started before that,” she prodded. “In high school. You terrorized me. Why? What did I do?”
I didn’t terrorize her. I never hurt her. I just wanted what I wanted.
The points of the knives poked too hard, and my breathing trembled.