15. ~Skylar~

My mom had closed that massive development deal and she'd been celebrating ever since, ordering in a special dinner at home three times in the last week, a massive slab cake even, having a party at her office. The culmination of that was slated to come in the next couple of weeks when all the big tycoons in the city got together for a fancy cocktail evening and gave out achievement awards amongst the city's elite entrepreneurs. She was slated to receive one of those special awards for this deal. It was such a big hoopla that even my dad was attending with her, and he never usually set foot anywhere near those kinds of hoity-toity affairs. I was also attending, because now that I was doing the whole Architecture thing and connected to her field, and she had plans beyond that of that internship, she wanted me exposed to all of it, to meet with the big wigs.

As much as I was happy for her and so proud that she'd accomplished so much and was being recognized for this particular one, I was actually dreading attending such an event.

For one, I hated crowds. I was a loner at heart, I always had been. Absolutely not the social butterfly I'd need to be for what lay ahead. It was also a thinly-veiled attempt on my mom's part to push me in the direction that she wanted, to make me decide and commit all the way. With me still wavering on that because of all the bullshit that had become attached to the old me, it wasn't the best time for it. And the truth was, the deeper I ventured into this program at Luxe, the more I felt like it didn't fit, that I couldn't make it fit either.

It was just… coming back here, all I'd wanted was stability and to toe the line in every way, because I'd been afraid if I veered off that in any way, it would push me back into the mess I'd left behind. I was afraid once I touched one aspect of it—my previous career path, for instance—it would switch everything back on that I'd tried to tamper down.

But over the last few weeks, I'd managed to learn a lot from Caleb who'd been dealing with the dark I struggled with a lot longer than me. I felt like I could control it a lot better now and if that was the case, it opened the door back up to all the rest without me needing to worry. If it was the case, I needed to test it first obviously.

And then all I'd need to do was deal with Jett.

I'd only gotten one text from him since the last lot.

That should've been a good thing, but it was actually anything but when it came to him.

It meant he was biding his time, possibly working up to something way worse than tormenting me from a distance.

Not to mention, the actual content of the text had been worrying and more than a little jarring.

Unknown Number: Continue ignoring me while you're in your stubborn phase, but don't think for one fucking second that you can replace me, sugar.

It had made me unduly paranoid that he knew what was going on with me and Bastian—yeah, that was what I called him now, what he'd asked me to call him—which I was already paranoid enough about with the development between us needing to remain absolutely secret.

With that in play, all the secrecy, how the hell could he know?

I wanted to make sure, though. I wanted confirmation of his location. To put my concerns to rest and to take control back and know I could finally let it go and be at peace with it, his threats via text just being meaningless. But to do that, I'd have to go through Jeremy and his private security firm. While it was a safer bet than going through my dad directly, given that they were friends, it was still a risk. And I didn't want my dad anywhere near that maniac. He'd already come close once, the day he'd come to help me out.

In the City of Rossun, even I knew that the best person to go to in order to obtain any intel on anything or anyone was Caspian King.

But I couldn't.

Because of who Jett was, who his brother was.

I grunted.

So much bullshit, so little time to figure it all out thanks to a bunch of uncontrollable elements and external factors.

I pushed aside the readings I'd been working on for my classes and brought out my sketchbook instead. I shouldn't really be doing it, but ever since Bastian and I had played my video game that day, it had brought it all back to me. The excitement, the buzz of creativity, the need to bring my characters and their story to life. The fact he'd mentioned it every time we'd seen each other since really hadn't helped to tamper that need down either. And we'd literally seen each other every day for the last week and a half.

All in secret.

A few times we'd gotten takeout after our last classes of the day and hidden ourselves away in the forest that flanked the campus to eat together and basically have our dates with nobody none the wiser.

Another time, it had been the stairwell where we'd first… connected, but a different part where there were no cameras and hardly any student traffic.

One afternoon, we'd done some knife throwing in the woods surrounding his mansion while Caleb had been in class.

And in all that time, not once had he touched me. Well, not sexually. Not even a kiss. He'd said that our thing had started off so sex-based and he wanted us to get to know one another properly now without all of that getting in the way. God, it was the sweetest thing I'd ever heard.

I smiled to myself at the thought of it all and sank into my sketching.

My phone buzzed and I snatched it off the café table to see a welcome text.

Bastian: Sending a Greek Salad over to you with extra feta, just the way I now know you like it. You need a pick-me-up coffee, or your usual instead with all the crazy sugar?

What the—

I discreetly looked out around the café.

And there he was, walking in with all that sexy swagger of his, looking as hot as ever in a black open collar shirt this time and a pair of gray designer jeans that did amazing justice to his ass that was basically a sculpted masterpiece.

I blinked. Whoa. I was obviously starting to feel the no-sex thing a little too much now.

Skylar: Good on the coffee, still three-quarters full. And, yes, the sugary option. But you don't need to do the food thing. XOXO.

Bastian: So you didn't come in here, just get a coffee because you didn't want to wait any longer amongst the crowds, and just retreat to that one quiet, low traffic spot in the place as fast as you could?

Dammit.

Skylar: I knew telling you about that would bite me in the ass.

Bastian: On the contrary, it allowed me to be prepared.

I saw him grinning as he looked out behind the counter as one of the staff members left the area carrying a salad container. They were navigating toward me in the next moment.

"Enjoy," they said simply, placing it down on my table with a smile, then walking away without any further preamble.

I was full-on grinning as I stared at the salad he'd mentioned.

Skylar: How did you do that?

Bastian: I have my ways. You need anything else, beautiful?

Skylar: This is already amazing. Thank you. *Heart emoji*

Bastian: Glad to see you're working in your sketchbook.

Skylar: Frustrated with the readings.

Bastian: Want help later? Got a group meeting right now. That rowdy table in the center there? That's them. Big project and all. Gonna be at it for an hour, then I can give you a hand.

Skylar: A hand, huh?

Bastian: Yeah.

He wasn't getting it.

Skylar: I meant, where will you give me that hand? And slow and sensual, or rough and hard as all fuck?

Bastian: Nice try, dirty girl.

Skylar: That wasn't a real try. Give me some credit.

Bastian: Watch out. Incoming.

I looked up suddenly to see Damien Thorn with his eye on me, pushing through the crowds in his usual abrasive way, and headed straight for me.

Bastian: I'm intercepting.

Skylar: No. I'm fine. Get your coffee and head to your group. It's probably just about the fight he wants to set up.

Bastian: Told him to go through me.

Skylar: He probably didn't feel like he could.

Bastian: Careful, don't fall into the sympathy-for-the-devil trap when it comes to him. He's dangerous.

Skylar: I'll be careful, I promise. You come over here again and you know people won't just chalk it up to you talking to me because of that big fight like last time. It'll end up screwing you over.

Bastian: I'm worried about it screwing you over by being with me.

I winced at him thinking like that about himself, but before I could respond, Damien was already at my table.

"Hey," I greeted, opening my salad container and my fork, then starting to eat it in a bid to affect a casual air. Hard to do when I could feel Bastian's gaze blazing over in my direction.

"Long time, Bluebell," Damien said, grabbing the chair opposite and moving it up close to me, and noticeably positioning himself so that his back was to Bastian and blocking his view of me with Damien's girth in the way.

I tensed.

Something didn't feel right.

What was he playing at?

"If this is about the fight, how about next week?"

He started. "Really?"

"Yeah."

"Great, I'll set it up. This one's gonna draw a hell of a crowd."

"That's not a selling point to me." Although, I could handle the whole crowded thing while I was in the ring, because once I got in that mindset, I just blocked it out, it was just a haze and background noise.

"No worries, just focus on the fight."

I swallowed a forkful of what turned out to be only feta, because I was too busy studying him and trying to determine what was so off about this interaction. "Anything else you needed to say?"

"Just looking forward to it is all. Oh, and bring Seb."

I jolted. "What? Why would I? Why would he?"

His eyes darkened and he leaned forward. "They have eyes on me, you think I don't have eyes on them? I know about his visit to your house, you two sneaking off to the forest for your cute little picnics. I've seen how he looks at you, like you walk on water. I can also tell he's fucked you. I mean, I didn't even suspect it when the two of you were locked in that bathroom at the fight venue because of his intense long-time celibacy, and Caleb kicked me out before I could confirm either way, but it doesn't matter, I can tell with the way he is with you. All of that combined means he's really into you. You're very important to him. And it's been a long time since Seb has cared about anything or anyone like that. If ever." He reached out and played with a strand of my hair. "That makes you of great interest to me, Bluebell."

I jerked my head away. "To what end?"

That darkness subsided, then he smiled widely. "Because my little brother is finally happy, of course."

"D."

Damien jolted at the sound of the voice, and I wasn't far behind when we looked to see Caleb now suddenly right there at the table.

He had his arms folded across the chest of his aviator jacket, as he glared at the older Thorn brother.

"Long time since I've seen you too, Cal. Avoiding me after the whole dick pic thing?" His eyes narrowed. "Or, is it more than that? You already cut me out of the other thing, I hope you're not trying to get rid of me from your life entirely, because I'm not down with that, and I won't respond well."

"If that's a threat, I'd tread incredibly carefully and really think before you spew further toxicity at me," Caleb responded in a chilling tone that I hadn't heard from him before.

"What threat are you interpreting, old friend? I meant, I'd be heartbroken. Especially when you and I have unfinished business."

"It's not unfinished. We're not going there."

"Only time will tell." Damien looked at me. "He doesn't know, right?"

I tensed as Caleb looked between us frowning. "What's that?" he asked.

I swallowed hard.

But before I could even get a word out, Damien answered, "That she's finally agreed to another fight. Took ages, but she's down for it at last."

Relief sung through me. Shit.

"Yeah?" Caleb asked, and I knew he wasn't just asking if it was true, he wanted to make sure I felt ready to re-enter that type of situation and atmosphere.

I nodded. "I'm ready." Well, I needed to test that I was. Until I did, I'd never know for sure.

"All right." He turned his attention back to Damien. "You're done here then. You've sorted the fight. Get going or you'll be late for Econ."

"So will you."

"I'll follow."

Damien resisted for a moment, then rose from the chair and walked to him.

He leaned in and brushed his lips over Caleb's throat, telling him in a husky voice, "Missed you too, baby."

Caleb shot out his hand and fisted it in Damien's hoodie.

But then his eyes darted around at the packed café and some looks coming his way, some people stopping in their tracks and reading the aggression, likely thinking it was going to turn into a fight.

Working his jaw, he released Damien who laughed. "I'll save you a seat."

With that, he walked off, leaving Caleb seething after him for a few moments, before he managed to suck in a breath, then turn to me with a genuine smile. "You all right?"

"I should be asking you that."

"I'm fine. He's just incredibly antagonistic. I shouldn't let it get under my skin."

It seemed a whole lot more than just merely antagonistic, but I didn't speak to it, seeing the state of him.

In fact, before I could say anything else, he told me, "I need to get to a meeting, otherwise I'd stay. But you're really okay?"

"I'm fine, I promise."

"You held yourself in check well. It's promising. I think you are really read to test it with this upcoming fight."

I smiled. "Yeah. Yeah, I am. Thanks to you."

He waved his hand dismissively. "It was you who did the work." His phone beeped and he pulled it out, then told me. "I need to head out. See you at the mansion soon?"

"Yeah."

With that, he took off.

To a meeting, rather than the class he was supposed to be headed to.

I wondered what was going on there.

These last few minutes had been a hell of a mind-fuck, really.

My phone buzzed on the table and I swiped it open.

Bastian: Wtf?

I looked out to see him now at that busy table, interacting with his group, while staring at his phone at the same time. Some impressive multitasking, because he somehow looked engaged in both activities at the same time.

Skylar: I'll tell you later.

Bastian: Stairwell. One hour.

Skylar: I'll be there.

I put my phone down, then took a few moments to calm down, before I was able to resume eating my salad, then get back down to sketching for a while.

Shutting out the world around me.

Just as I liked it.

Bastian's jawworked as he took in the details that I'd relayed to him of my encounter with Damien earlier.

I waited, leaning against the wall of the stairwell as he continued pacing like he'd been doing for the last few minutes since we'd snuck in here.

"I see," he finally responded.

That was it?

I frowned. "Really? That's the extent of your reaction?"

"Yeah. Why?" he asked, coming to me over by the wall.

"You don't like me interacting with him. It's hard to believe you'd just let this roll off your back. Especially the part about him spying on us, him knowing that we're together."

"He hasn't seen anything that confirms that, just us talking and eating."

"It's not much of a leap."

"It is for him to be able to do anything with it. He needs concrete proof for that."

"What happened at the fight club with him seemed to just be mild brotherly shenanigans, just him ribbing you, but after today, it's clear it's a lot more than that, yes?"

"You don't need to worry about any of it, I'll handle it."

"Bastian—"

My words caught in my throat when he stroked over my right arm, tracing my tattoo. "So, what's the deal with this? Why this beautiful lotus?"

"Strength and triumph over adversity. In particular, a reminder to transcend my own darkness as well as all the brutal shit I saw as Onyx."

"Nice."

"Not the smoothest subject change."

"Yet, it still worked."

"You really don't want to talk about your issues with him?"

He sighed as he continued tracing my tattoo, sending sparks through me, warming me. "It'll only agitate me and sour my mood, and I don't want to do that while I'm here with you. Our time together is already too limited for my liking. Besides, then he wins at getting inside our heads. I spent a lot of time worrying and even then obsessing about what he might do, trying to predict his behavior and the outbursts he'd have every now and then toward me, and it caused me nothing but grief. It cost me a lot of time and energy. I won't let him get inside my head again and impact me like that. It's what he wants."

"So, it never ends then? There will be a period of peace and then he'll lash out at you?"

His fingers left me and he scrubbed his hand over his face. "Sky, we're talking about it."

"I know, but I just want to understand."

"Why?"

"Because it's a part of your life, and we're getting to know each other."

The corner of his mouth turned up. "Well played. Dammit."

I chuckled and took his hand. "So?"

He heaved another sigh. "We always had a sibling rivalry, but it was innocent enough. He was close to my mom and I was tight with my dad. Our parents didn't exactly hide the fact that they each had a favorite. While it didn't bother me when it came to my strained relationship with my mom who clearly favored him, it got under his skin that my dad favored me. He wanted it all. He couldn't stand that attention was taken away from him. It was all very immature. And then, after my dad died and his will was read, it was discovered that he'd marked me as his heir apparent, not Damien as the older sibling. From then on, our rivalry—on his end—became a lot more ferocious and dangerous. I found a way to hold him at bay—or Cas did—but that's gone now, so it looks like Damien is back to it now."

"And trying to use me to strike at you," I said, grimacing.

He squeezed my hand. "I won't let that happen. It's just external bullshit. Don't let him get under your skin."

The need to ask more was right there, but I could see how much it was paining him just to tell me that much.

Besides, we all had our secrets, me definitely included.

So, I pulled my hand from his and brushed my fingers over his black rose tattoos and asked, "So, how about you? What's the meaning behind all this ink? Black roses have a lot of different meanings."

"It's about my sobriety. Despair of the addiction, then rebirth marking me clawing my way out of all of that."

"Wow," I breathed. "That's lovely."

"Lovely, huh?"

"Yeah and they're gorgeous," I said, tracing the petals of one of the roses. "Was it alcohol?"

"That was how it started off, how I dealt with my grief when I lost my dad. But then it became pills. Heavy-duty narcotics and tranquilizers."

"Jeez."

"Yeah, I was pretty fucked up back then."

"I'm so sorry," I said, stroking his face. "But it's amazing that you were able to come out of it and get your life back on track."

He smiled. "Yeah."

"I can't imagine you being that way."

"And you never will. I'm not going back to it. Ever." His eyes dropped to my left arm. "Your scars? Here on your arm and your back… what happened?"

I tensed. "I… I can't."

"Skylar—"

"I'm sorry, I really can't. I mean, at least not yet."

He stared at me for a moment and I could see his need to know, to discover what had hurt me in such a permanent way.

But, fortunately, he didn't push it any further and said instead, "Okay. We're done with all of this then. No more heavy stuff." He walked to the top step and sat down, patting the space beside him. "Sit with me. Show me those sketches you've been working on."

I smiled and grabbed my sketchbook out of my bag beside his that we'd left against the opposite wall when we'd come in here.

I settled beside him and opened it up to my latest work—a half a dozen pages full.

"Wow, you really got into it," he said as I started to show him.

"Yeah, it just started coming to me and I couldn't stop."

"Let's hope that continues."

I gave him a withering look. "No more heavy stuff, remember?"

"All right, beautiful," he said, wrapping his arm around me and pulling me against him.

And then we sat there as he held me and listened attentively to my every word about my sketches and my ideas for the sequel to my game, like he couldn't get enough.

And, honestly, neither could I.