Diamond in the Dust (Lost Kings MC 18)

Her terrified eyes instantly filled me with regret. Why couldn’t I have said they died in a car accident or something normal?

What made me think I needed to form a deeper connection or that baring my soul was the way to do it?

She rolled off the mattress and pulled on her clothes. “Wow. What a shockingly violent thing for a kid to go through.”

Yeah, no shit.

She stopped and ran her gaze over me. “I guess you better go so you can make curfew.”

Was she serious? After I just bared my soul?

Usually, Ashley was begging me to stay.

But I couldn’t sleep over. Not because of my aunt and uncle. I’d made up the lie about a curfew because it was an easy excuse.

The real reason? I still had nightmares. Not every night like right after my parents died, but often. It was embarrassing enough to have Jensen overhear them, but since he was still wrestling with his own nocturnal demons, we were good at pretending we didn’t hear each other’s suffering. There was no way in hell I'd risk Ashley waking up to me yelling and thrashing around. And tonight's conversation was sure to invite the monsters into my brain.

“Sure.” I dressed quickly and kissed her cheek.

She pulled away.

That was also new. Ashley was always clingy when I had to leave.

Lead continued to settle in my gut.

All the way home, I replayed the conversation.

“What’s wrong?” Jensen asked. “Thought you’d be in a better mood after Ashley sucked you dry.”

“Look who’s talking about being moody.” I punched his shoulder. “Besides, she doesn’t do that.”

“No? You just stick it in, pump a few times, and flood her womb with your seed?”

I gagged at his description. “The fuck is wrong with you?”

No matter how he distracted me with our gross conversation, I still couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d made a huge mistake.

Chapter Twelve

Rooster

I didn’t hear from Ashley the day after I’d dragged out my family’s skeletons in some dumbass attempt to deepen my relationship with her. Usually she was blowing up my phone as soon as her family got home from church.

What the fuck was I trying to accomplish sharing that shit with her, anyway?

On Monday, she wasn’t waiting at my locker like she did every morning. I’d been so worried about myself, and what I’d revealed to her, that it didn’t occur to me until I was standing in front of my locker that maybe something bad had happened.

I sent her a text.

No response.

I called.

No answer.

Finally, she texted back.

Ashley: Can’t talk now.

Whatever.

I jammed my phone in my pocket and headed to class.

Maybe I was wearing an extra pissed-off expression but certain people seemed to move out of my way faster than usual. Or maybe paranoia was setting in.

The day passed without seeing Ashley.

Football practice was normal but the coach let us go early.

On Wednesday, I finally caught up to Ashley in the parking lot after school.

I stopped her before she slid into her car. “What’s going on with you?”

“Logan.” She tried to shut the door, but I gripped it and opened it wider.

“Talk to me,” I insisted.

She scanned the parking lot before stepping out of her car. “I don’t want to see you anymore.”

Nothing like being direct.

“You’re breaking up with me?” Inside, I was confused but not necessarily upset. A feeling similar to relief slid through me. I was still curious about why, although I should’ve guessed.

She reached into the car and dragged something off the front passenger seat. “Here.” She tossed my football jersey at me. The one she’d been so desperate to wear at the beginning of the season, she’d badgered me relentlessly until I gave it to her.

“What changed?” I balled the jersey in my fist without looking at it. “The other night you were talking about engagement rings.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and lifted her chin toward the right, staring somewhere over my shoulder. “I don’t think I can feel safe with you now.”

“Wait, what?” Her words stung as they sunk in. “When have I ever made you feel unsafe?”

Her lips screwed into a defiant pout. An expression I once found adorable but now brought the words spoiled princess to mind.

“What you told me.” She scanned the parking lot, then leaned in and lowered her voice. “About your dad? I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Welcome to my world.

I knew I should’ve kept my mouth shut.

“A deeply traumatic experience like that when you’re a kid…that could have a big impact on your personality. Now or later. Who knows?”

I narrowed my eyes in confusion. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re probably a walking time bomb. Murder and violence are in your DNA, Logan.”

I staggered away. “You think…I’d hurt you?” Holy shit. I thought maybe she’d think my family history was too trashy to be associated with her snooty one. But I never, ever thought she’d think I’d hurt her.