Chapter 24

It's been two weeks,one day, and six hours since I've seen Lux's face or touched her skin, and I feel like an addict coming off a cocktail of drugs. Most days, all I can think about is her. Even eating is a distant thought.

The only thing pulling my thoughts away from Lux are the thoughts about my brother, which end up sending me into a deep, spiraling depression. A week ago, we had a funeral for him, attended by close family and friends, and that was pure hell. All the tears, and the pity on everyone's faces…it was too much.

Regardless of what happened, James was my brother, and the demons he wrestled weren't his fault. He made choices, yes, but his reality was constantly shifting beneath his feet. How could he help himself, when he never knew what was real?

After the funeral, my mom insisted I get grief counseling. I was against it at first, because talking about feelings and shit never appealed to me. But in the wake of my brother's death, I couldn't exactly tell her no. So, I go through the motions a couple of times a week and pour the contents of my brain out to a guy who just sits back and listens, offering little tokens of perspective here and there.

It's not terrible.

But when my brother isn't haunting my thoughts, then Lux is right there, at the forefront. A couple of the guys have been keeping tabs on her from a distance. But Wyn is the one she's been leaning on most, and I'm so damn grateful for that. At least she has someone.

It's agony not seeing Lux, though. Just hearing her voice would be a relief, but I keep replaying what Ash said a couple of weeks ago.

You owe it to her to walk away.

In the wake of everything, I heard through the grapevine that Lux dropped the accusations against Jackson, Lucas, Christian, and me. But Ash will be formally initiated at some point in the next week, so he can remain a Sacred Son, and "change some shit around here."

Whatever. Doesn't matter to me now, anyway. After the funeral, I formally resigned from the Burning Crown and withdrew from Exeter University West. The guys were pissed when they found out, but ultimately, it's what had to be done. Lux is never going to flourish as long as I'm here. I have to give her the space she needs, even though it's killing me. Literally killing me.

Most days, I find it hard to breathe.

Today, I'm lying in my bed, surrounded by boxes. A couple of days ago, I'd hired a moving company to pack up all my stuff—the few things Lux didn't light on fire. The house will remain the headquarters of the Burning Crown, but Lucas is the oldest, so he's in charge now.

I have no idea where I'm going. New York, maybe? And only because it's the farthest possible point from California. I know if I don't physically remove myself from the state, I'll be drawn to her again and again, watching her from afar, growing more and more desperate to touch her. And eventually, I'll break. I've only ever had one weakness, and that weakness has pale green eyes, curvy hips, and a smile that could melt stone.

Abruptly, my bedroom door is flung open. No knock, nothing. "Roman, dude, you need to get up. This is pathetic." It's Lucas, and he has a fast food bag in his hand. He tosses it at me. "And run some water over that fucking mane. It's gross."

I set the paper bag aside and sit up, running my fingers through my hair. "Any updates on Lux?" I ask. It's the same question I ask every morning and every afternoon.

Lucas shoves his hands into his pockets and tilts his head to the side. "I'll repeat what I tell you every-fucking-day. We have it handled. If there's anything you need to know, we'll tell you. In the meantime, you need to focus on your own damn self."

I yawn and rub my eyes. "What time is it?"

"Four in the afternoon," he answers flatly. "Get the fuck up. There's someone downstairs asking to see you."

I wave him off, and slide off the bed, moving toward the bathroom. "Tell whoever it is to fuck off." I don't even care who it is. If it's not Lux, then I'm not interested.

Lucas sighs. "He says he's a lawyer or something."

Oh, right. That sparks a memory. I called him a couple of days ago because there's some shit I need to handle.

"Fine, I'll be down in fifteen."

Lucas nods. "He's in the study."

When Lucas leaves, I hop into the shower, soaping up, and washing off quickly. I can't help but remember Lux in here with me, her slick, creamy skin brushing up against me as we navigate the shower.

Goddamn.

I lean against the tiled wall, head resting on my forearm as the hot water washes over me. I can't fucking do this. Living without Lux is like living without my fucking lungs. How can I possibly do this?

Downstairs, I meet with the guy in the study, my lawyer. The meeting takes all of thirty minutes because I already know exactly what I want. The lawyer balks at my request and tries talking me out of it, but I hold firm.

After the meeting, I grab a bottle of vodka, and walk down to the beach, wending down the twisting dirt path in my bare feet. I sit down in the sand, and take a long pull from the bottle, watching the waves crash in the distance.

As I sit here, I ask the same question I ask myself every day. How did I manage to fuck up so badly? I never have a good answer, and I don't have one today, either.

Seagulls squawk overhead, and I take another long pull of vodka, the alcohol lighting a path down my throat. Maybe I can just drink the pain away, and drown the images inside my head.

This stretch of beach is where I first set eyes on Lux in the flesh. I'd seen photos, obviously, and read the highlights of her life in the report my private investigator put together. But this is where I first saw her with my own eyes—and I felt it, even then. I wanted to deny it, but even in that first, brief meeting, the electricity snapped between us.

I knew the second my gaze met hers that she was different somehow. I hated her then. She was a means to an end. But I should have known. I should have realized I was way in over my head when it came to Lux. There was something between us I couldn't control.

Another deep swig of vodka, and the alcohol is starting to do its work. Warmth soaks into my bones, and I suddenly feel like I'm floating. Another drink, then another, and already a third of the bottle is gone.

I need to see her.

One more time before I leave.

Just one last blissful taste. Then I'll walk away forever.