20. TWENTY

TWENTY

" H ey, it's me," Rhett says from the other side of the door. "Open up."

None of us move.

"You're the closest," River says to Hazel.

She pulls herself out of bed and opens the door.

"We're going to play tonight," Rhett says, "without Luca. The label has someone who can fill in; we'll have to change the set a bit, so we'll need to leave here in about an hour. Get ready."

"And then what?" Hazel asks.

He shrugs. "The lawyers are taking care of it. Hopefully, it'll all be sorted out tomorrow."

"I'm going back to my room," I say. "I'll see you guys later."

I pass Rhett in the doorway and then cross over to the other room.

"Hey, are you okay?" Declan asks. He stands and crosses the room, pulling me into his arms. "I'm sorry about your sister, sweetheart."

"It's okay," I lie.

"Go get ready, okay? We need to leave soon."

"I don't want to go," I tell him. "I want to stay here with Luca."

He looks from me to Luca; he's sitting on the couch, eyes glazed over like he's been drinking for hours already. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

He narrows his eyes. "You'll be okay?"

"Of course, she'll be okay. What the fuck do you think is going to happen to her?"

"I don't really care what happens to me," I say.

"That's exactly what I'm fucking worried about, Teagan," Declan says. He taps his finger to my temple. "I'm worried about what's in here."

"I'm fine."

He sighs. "If you need anything, you text me."

"She'll be fine—Jesus," Luca says.

"You'd think you'd maybe shut the fuck up while I clean up your fucking mess."

"I will," I tell Declan, doing my best to force a smile.

He kisses me on the forehead, then steps around me toward his bedroom. I sigh and sit on the couch beside Luca.

"What are they going to do?" I ask.

"Teag…"

"I can handle it. Tell me."

"Um, the label put out a statement that they're looking into it and that I won't be performing with the band tonight. After the set's over, their lawyers will release a statement saying that…it didn't happen—that she and I were using drugs, and I underwent treatment during that break in the tour—and file a lawsuit. They're pretty sure they can convince Heidi to recant, and then the magazine will have to print a retraction."

"How?" I ask. "Money? Threats?"

"A little bit of both."

"Okay."

"It's not safe for her to say shit like that, Teagan, if that makes you feel any better. You remember the house we took you to in the mountains? Those people won't allow it. There will be consequences. It's better if she says she was on drugs and lost her fucking mind—for everyone. And for what it's worth, I am sorry. I was really fucked up, and I guess I just…snapped. I thought I could make her change her mind."

"I don't care about her," I tell him.

And god, it hurts to say that aloud.

I have this voice in my head that, anytime someone starts in on me about how I'm messed up or how I'm not normal, reminds me that I'm not a bad person. And as long as I'm not a bad person—as long as I'm not hurting anyone—it shouldn't matter what I do.

I'm having a hard time reconciling that with how I feel now.

"I still love you, Luca. I think…I think I'm really fucked up. Most of the time, I can ignore it. I'm having a hard time ignoring it right now."

I feel it again—that tightening in my chest, the stinging behind my eyes. I'm going to fucking cry—again. Fuck.

"What are you talking about? There's nothing wrong with you, Teagan."

"I hate crying," I say. "It fucking hurts—it physically fucking hurts like I'm having a fucking heart attack—and you always make me cry. I never used to cry."

"Well, that's a good thing," Luca says. "You have to fucking care about something to cry. You know what I did after you left this morning? I cried like a fucking baby, just like I told you I would."

"No, you didn't."

"You know why it hurts you like that?"

I shake my head.

"Because you're always fighting it—it's unnatural. It's okay to cry, Teagan."

"On my life, he did cry," Declan says. "I saw it."

I laugh through my tears.

"Hey…" Declan sits on the coffee table across from me and takes my hand. "You'll be okay, Teagan; I promise. You'll always have a family; I'll always take care of you. And Luca, too." He cradles my face in his hands and wipes under my eyes with his thumbs. His eyes soften as they do sometimes, searching my own. "I…I'll talk to you later."

He kisses me on the mouth, his lips lingering against mine for seconds before he pulls away.

"Bye, kitten."

"Bye."

My phone buzzes in my pocket as I watch him leave.

BLAKELY Just got home. I want you to know that I'm blocking your number. I can't take this anymore.

I sigh and drop it on the couch beside me.

"So, I guess I'm probably not invited to the wedding anymore," Luca says.

"I'm not invited to the wedding anymore, either."

"I'm sorry," he says. "I wish I was someone you could bring to a wedding and take home to meet your mom."

"Do you want to know why I said that earlier—about being fucked up?"

He nods. "Yeah."

"Because I think you were right this morning. I think I was jealous. I don't think I'm the kind of girl you can take home to meet your mom. I think I'm the kind you tie up in the basement."

He smiles. "I'm okay with that. I don't have a mom, but I do have a basement."

I laugh and shake my head, then melt into him, burying my tear-streaked face in his chest and breathing in his scent. I missed it all fucking day.

"I like you like this," I tell him. I take another deep breath and then move so that my head is in his lap and look up at him. "When you're wearing sweats and a hoodie and your hat backward—do you know what I call it in my head?"

"No," he says, stroking my hair. "What?"

"Your normal human costume."

His chest shakes with laughter before I hear it. "Teagan, that's so sad!"

"Is it?" I ask. "I don't know; I kind of like to think of you…and Declan…as something different. I feel different, too."

"Well, I like your normal human costume," he tells me. "A lot."

"Thank you," I laugh. "Um, there's one more thing."

I take a deep breath and mentally prepare myself to cross a line and break the rules, knowing he might not want to break them with me.

Brady is going to fucking laugh at me.

"What? What's wrong?"

"I don't want to share you. I'm too afraid you'll decide to love someone else, and I only want you to love me."

He shrugs and says, "That's fine with me. There's a hot tub on the roof—do you want to go fuck in it?"

I smile. "Yeah, okay."

The clock in the room says it's just after three in the morning when I slip out of bed. I've had a hard time sleeping with Blakely's words echoing in my head—something I barely noticed when she said it, but now, I can't stop thinking about it and what might happen if she decided to tell them or they found out some other way.

Quietly, I cross the hotel suite in just a t-shirt to Declan's room.

I crawl under the covers with him and brush his hair away from his face. "Declan?" I whisper. "Wake up."

He opens his eyes, groans, and wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me closer to him.

"Mmm…Teagan." He brings his lips to mine, kissing me. "I've missed you so much. It's been so long since I've had you all to myself." His tongue slides into my mouth, and I wrap my arms around his neck, deepening the kiss before he pulls my lower lip through his teeth.

"I love kissing you," I tell him. "You're the best kisser. Your lips are so soft—softer than River's."

"What's got you so soft?" he asks, kissing me again. "Hmm? Are you that mad at my brother that you're actually going to be sweet to me? Does that mean you're going to let me be sweet to you, too?"

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"You never let me be good to you," he says. "You don't crawl into bed with me and let me tell you how beautiful you are." He reaches for my hair, twirling one of the curls around his finger, and I can't breathe. "You don't let me tell you how pretty I think you look when you let your curls dry like this or that I like the way they look against your bare back when you sleep. Do you have any idea how much I think about you? It's like you came out of nowhere and sucked the color out of everything else, and now there's just you. Everything else is…" He pauses, unfurling the tendril wrapped around his finger. He trails his hand down my cheek and brushes his thumb over my lower lip. "Just…beige."

"Declan…"

I can't breathe when you talk to me like that.

"You're always sweet to Luca, though. What is it he calls you?"

"Um…angel?"

"No, not that one—the other one."

"Black licorice?"

"That's it," he says. "Black licorice." He leans in and kisses me again. "Bittersweet. And dangerous."

"I'm not dangerous," I say as he kisses my neck and the hand inside my shirt makes its way up to my breasts. "Declan…wait."

"What? What's wrong?"

"I have to tell you something, and I don't think you're going to be happy with me."

"Okay…"

"I don't think you're going to…want me around anymore."

"I'm sure you're overreacting."

I think about Layla, and I'm not so sure.

"I lied to you about something…when we first met. I didn't just try to get close to Luca because I was a fan."

I pause, waiting for him to react, but he doesn't. He just looks at me, waiting.

"I have this podcast—it's like a true crime podcast, I guess. And I got a message about…you guys. And that maybe there was something criminal there. So, I started to look into it, and I thought they might be right, and…that's what I was really doing. But I haven't been doing that for a long time. I just wanted to tell you because…my sister said that if you knew, you'd get rid of me, and I didn't like how I found out about Luca."

"I already know about all of that, Teagan," Declan says. "But it's cute that you told me."

"You did…?"

He slips his hands under my shirt again and tightens his grip around my waist. I feel how hard he is through his boxers before he rolls on top of me.

"I'm going to tell you something that's not going to make you very happy, sweetheart. I just want to kiss you for one more minute first…while you're all soft."

He kisses me again, but even his perfect lips and expert tongue can't distract me from what he just said.

"Tell me."

"Okay," he says. "I know because I found you first. I sent you that message, and I'm the one who sent you the VIP ticket. I already knew everything about you before we met."

"Why? Why would you do that? Like…as a joke?"

"No, not as a joke."

"You played me."

"To be fair, you thought you were playing me. That was your intention, no?"

"Well, what the fuck was your intention?" I ask. "So, when I met Luca at the bar, that was—"

"No," Declan says. "Luca was not aware, and I don't think we should tell him now. I don't think he'd be happy, do you?"

"I'm not happy, and you didn't answer my question."

"Calm down," he says softly. "This is all I wanted, Teagan. I wanted you."

I shake my head. "That doesn't make any sense."

"I watched you, and I wanted you. Is it that bad that I picked you? Women are always throwing themselves at me. They did it before because I was rich, and now they do it because I'm a rockstar or whatever, and I never get to pick anyone first. I still like to do that. For the record, though, I did pick you just for me. I thought Luca was going to fuck it up; I didn't realize that you'd be so good for him, too, but I'm glad you are."

I can't swallow; I guess it's not that bad, right? I guess it makes sense that he'd want to pick someone—that he'd pick the homeschooled blonde at the state fair who's never heard their music and want to win her over with a stuffed teddy bear.

It makes less sense that he'd pick me—a girl from Orange County who was kicked out of high school and then got kidnapped. A girl who…

"Teag? Say something."

"I need you to get off of me for a second; I can't breathe."

He rolls off of my body, and I sit up, bringing my knees to my chest.

"How much do you know?"

"What do you mean? I told you; I know everything."

"So, like…my date of birth."

"June 27th."

"My address?"

"Yeah, former and present."

"Number of murders witnessed?"

"Yes. We clarified that already."

"Number of murderers fucked?"

He relaxes and laughs a little, running his fingers along the outside of my thigh. "Two. Unless there are more that neither of us are aware of."

"And what about medical history?"

He isn't smiling now. "Yes."

I feel it again—that thing I hate. Chest tightening, eyes stinging. I suck in a breath and get out of bed. "Okay. I think I'm done with this conversation."

"I know what you're thinking, but you're wrong."

"You picked me because I tried to kill myself…after what happened at school. Because that's what you like."

"Teagan, that's not why." He steps in front of me, placing his hands on my arms. "You can't really think that."

"You fucking got me," I say, shaking my head. "I knew better—I'm not one of those stupid girls, and you still fucking got me. You should be really fucking proud of yourself."

I fell for it—his tortured soul, his gentle touch. I knew what he was doing; I was explicitly warned. Maybe I shouldn't be so hard on myself, though—Declan is a master at his craft, and I'm the perfect victim.

"I picked you because of your eyes…and your smile. Because they're so fucking beautiful but never quite matched, and I wanted to see if I could fix it. I think I did fix it, Teagan. Aren't you happy?"

"Not really," I tell him. "I've had a couple of really bad fucking days. But not that bad, so don't get too excited. I will never do that again."

"Teagan, I don't want you to. I just want you—that's all."

"I trusted you."

"You can still trust me."

"You had me at a handicap—you realize that, right? It's not fair for one person to know everything about the other one and not tell them!"

"I get how you would see it that way, but I don't."

"You hurt me," I cry.

"I've been good to you," Declan says. "I took you home and gave you a family. You're free now—isn't that what you wanted? What's the problem?"

"I don't believe you."

"I told you the truth. I didn't have to do that."

"Well, I'm glad you did—for both of us. Because you'll never get what you want from me, and I'll never get what I want from you. Now, we both know."

He places his hand on my cheek and traces my jaw with his knuckles. "Teagan, you can have whatever you want from me. Say the word and it's yours."

His dark eyes look into my own in the way that usually has me throwing all logic out the window. I shrug him off before it works.

"I agree with you. I don't think we should tell Luca about this, either," I tell him before I storm out the door. Unlike his brother, he doesn't chase me; he doesn't grab me and hold me down and beg me to stay.

He doesn't tell me he loves me because he never will. Which is fine—because I don't love him, either, and I don't need him to.

I crawl back into bed with Luca, close my eyes, and pretend I don't recognize that unfamiliar ache in my chest for what it is, but I do.

It's my heart. Breaking.