Chapter 16

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Wyn

I’ve been sitting up in Lucas’ room alone for what feels like an hour or more. The music was cut abruptly about forty minutes ago—which is weird because it’s still early. Voices drew me to the window, and I noticed people flooding out, into the backyard. It was almost as though everyone had been abruptly sent home. But why? The police don’t come here…

I try texting Lucas, but there’s no response. Same with Alexis, and Lux. I don’t even know if Lux had shown up to Rush House yet, but she may have heard if something happened to break the party up. News travels fast in the Burning Crown.

But no one is replying to me, so I’m left to wonder. For the hundredth time this evening, I lay back on Lucas’ bed and try to close my eyes. But every time I do, Gabriel’s face is there to greet me, and my eyes fly open.

I consider getting up and rummaging around in Lucas’ bathroom for a razor, but Lucas’ words from earlier stop me— If it’s pain you crave, then I’ll be the one to give it to you. Ugh, if only he were here now. I could use a little pinch and nip to take the edge off because I’m still anxious, echoes of that fight-or-flight energy still buzzing through my veins.

What I really need is an herbal sleep aid. Thankfully, I know exactly where I can get my hands on some weed. Christian keeps a stash of blunts in the study, top right desk drawer.

The only thing stopping me from leaving this room is the possibility that Gabriel could be in the house somewhere. But, honestly, the way Lucas ran him off…he’s probably long gone. I know Gabriel, and for him, pride is everything. I doubt he’d stick around and risk Lucas calling him out in front of everyone.

I walk into Lucas’ closet, find a dark gray ExU hoodie, and slip it over my head. It’s about three sizes too big and falls halfway down my thighs, but it’s warm and smells like laundry detergent. I wonder idly who does Lucas’ laundry. I can’t imagine him shoving clothes into a washing machine.

I don’t bother with my shoes, but I grab my phone before cracking the door open and stepping out into the dark hallway. Rush House is one of those ancient coastal mansions, so every step I take is announced with a loud creak of the floorboards.

The whole place is quiet, which is creepy, considering it was a riot of activity just forty minutes ago. I head to the main staircase and tiptoe my way down to the first floor, my breath held.

When I get to the bottom, I pause, ready to dart back up to Lucas’ room, if I have to. But I don’t hear anyone, so I feel bold enough to scurry down the hall to the study.

The door is cracked, and I slowly push it open. Inside, I’m shocked to find Jackson, Ash, and Christian, standing around, looking very serious. They all turn to look at me.

“Oh, sorry, I was just…looking for some weed,” I say quickly. “I couldn’t sleep.”

Christian is already leaning against the desk, a blunt hanging from his lips. He reaches over, opens the drawer, and pulls a new blunt out, then holds it out for me. I have to cross the entire length of the room to get it, but I’m desperate, so I hurry across the large room.

Pulling up the sleeve that’s falling over my hand, I take the blunt. Christian holds up a lighter, and I place the joint between my lips, leaning forward, so he can light it. Once it’s lit, I take a deep pull, coughing as the fragrant smoke stings my throat.

“Thanks,” I choke out. “So, um, where’s the party? Why is everyone gone?”

The guys all look at each other like they’re wondering if they should tell me.

“What?” I ask, pulling in another puff. “What happened?”

“Lucas lost it on Gabriel,” Christian says. “Then he kicked everyone out.”

Three pairs of eyes linger on me, and I suddenly feel self-conscious, like they’re judging me or something. It’s probably just me overthinking, but…for real, why are they staring at me? Do they know what happened between Gabriel and me upstairs?

“Why did Lucas lose it?” I ask, taking another hit.

Jackson widens his stance and folds his arms over his chest. “Apparently something happened between you and Gabriel.” He flicks his chin in my direction. “Is that bruise on your face his handiwork?”

Oh, that’s what they’re staring at.

I swallow. “Yes.”

Jackson’s jaw tightens, and he nods once like he’s too pissed to respond. My heart warms a little at that, but I know it’s not me, personally, that he’s pissed about. It’s the fact that I’m queen consort, and someone dared to lay hands on me. It’s a pride thing.

Christian pushes off the desk and walks over to me, his head tilting to the side to study the marks on my throat. When he’s done, he purses his lips and glances at the other guys. “Well, no wonder he lost it.” He steps away and shrugs. “Can’t say I blame him now.”

“What happened exactly?” I ask.

Ash is sitting in one of the tufted leather chairs. “Lucas beat the shit out of Gabriel. Jackson and Christian had to pull him off before we had another homicide on our hands.”

Good. I’m sure whatever Gabriel got, he deserved.

“Then he forced Gabriel to release you,” Ash says. “In front of everyone.”

“And?” I ask, breath held. “Did he?”

Ash nods. “He didn’t really have a choice, but, yeah.”

I could cry in relief. Thank God Gabriel no longer has a claim on me.

Pinching the blunt between my thumb and forefinger, I study it, so I don’t have to look at the three sexy-as-fuck guys who are staring at me. It’s unnerving. “So, Gabriel left?”

“Yeah,” Jackson and Ash say in unison.

“Where’s Lucas?” I ask.

Jackson shrugs, but it’s Christian who answers. “His car is still in the driveway, so he’s probably down at the beach.”

I move to walk out of the room, but I pause, turn around, and hold the blunt up. “I’m taking this with me.”

Christian shrugs. “It’s yours.”

Jackson steps forward. “Hold up. I’d better walk out with you.”

I scoff, annoyed. “You guys said Gabriel is gone. I’m good.”

Did it have to be Jackson of all people to step forward and offer to walk me out? We were close once, and I’m still bothered about him ditching me right after Gabriel “died.”

He moves to follow me out like he didn’t hear me. Whatever. I’m not in the mood to argue. It’s a three-minute walk, anyway.

Outside, it’s dark, and the breeze coming off the ocean is ice-cold. I’m glad I grabbed Lucas’ hoodie, but my bare legs are like blocks of ice as Jackson and I walk to the side of the house, and down the dirt path that leads down to the beach. There’s a sliver of moon, illuminating the path a little, but Jackson pulls his phone out, and gets in front of me, so he can light the path.

“So, I just wanted to, uh, say sorry about all the shit that’s gone down,” Jackson says cryptically.

“What does that mean?” If that’s supposed to be an apology for ditching me during the roughest two months of my life, then he’ll have to do better than that. I mean, damn, those two months were brutal.

He pauses on the path, his boots crunching the gravel beneath his feet as he turns to face me. “After Gabriel died, Lucas was pissed, and he blamed you. I had to back him up.”

“Oh, did you?” I blink at him, the blunt dangling from my fingers. I desperately want to take another hit, but I didn’t bring a lighter.

“We’re Sacred Sons,” he says flatly. “We have each other’s backs. Regardless.”

I push out a breath and move to walk in front of him. “Great. I don’t know why you’re telling me this.”

He pulls on my arm gently, and I stop. “Because it sucks that it had to be like that. I know it was shitty, and I’m sorry.”

I push out another breath, my anger softening a tiny bit. If I were in his position, I’d probably do the same thing. I’d side with Lux on just about anything. But it still hurts to be abandoned like that. I smile up at him, but it’s a fuck you kind of smile. “Welp, at least I know where the rest of us stand when it comes to your epic bromance.”

He lets go of me and allows me to walk in front of him, but I quickly regret it, because I’m barefoot and the ground is uneven. I pull out my own phone light, and we walk the rest of the way in silence.

When we get to the bottom, I see Lucas immediately. He’s sitting on the sand in the near-darkness, watching the waves gently crash against the shore. I turn to Jackson. “I think that’s him.”

He smiles at me tightly. “I really am sorry, Wyn. I hope we can be chill again.”

“Thanks for walking me out,” I say stiffly, not because I actually want to thank him, but as a conversation end-point. I turn and wade through the soft sand, making my way toward Lucas.

When I reach him, I sit down next to him. He glances at me, surprised to see me here on the beach with him. He twists his body and glances back, in the direction I just came from. He must see Jackson because he lifts his hand to indicate I’ve been successfully handed off.

Turning back around, he looks at me, his gaze flicking over my hoodie and bare legs. “I thought you’d be sleeping by now,” he says. “It’s too cold for you out here.”

I bring my knees up to my chest and pull the bottom of the hoodie over my legs, covering them. “I couldn’t sleep,” I say, setting my phone and blunt on the sand next to me. I reach over and grab his hand. His knuckles are raw and still bleeding. “The guys told me what happened.”

He just watches me as I smooth my fingers over the uninjured parts of his hand.

“Yeah,” is all he says in response.

I glance at him. “Thank you for getting him to release me.”

Lucas pulls his hand away and laughs under his breath, shaking his head. “You’re dangerous to me, Wyn.”

I pull my knees out of the sweater and sit with my legs crossed. “Oh, I’m the dangerous one,” I tease. “The guys said you may have killed Gabriel if they hadn’t pulled you off him…”

“He touched you.”

My gaze lingers on his lips, and I can’t help but remember how they feel gliding across my bare skin. He has a way with that wicked mouth. It can transport me to heaven, but it can also destroy me.

“You’ve laid hands on me,” I point out. I shouldn’t have to remind him of the numerous times he’s inflicted pain on me. There was a large knife involved, at one point, even. My pussy pulses, remembering how he dominated me with that knife.

His expression grows cold. “You’re going to compare what I’ve done, to what Gabriel just did to you?”

He’s right. Maybe that isn’t fair. Pain in the interest of pleasure is world’s different from what just happened with Gabriel. He only wanted me to suffer. Still, I can’t bring myself to apologize.

I lean back on my palms. “Maybe I’m just not sophisticated enough to know the difference.”

He chuckles and shakes his head. “Your body knows the difference.”

Touché.

It really does.

I straighten and look him dead in the eye. “So why am I the dangerous one, hm? You haven’t told me.”

Whatever his reason, I can see he’s reluctant to tell me. He tears his gaze away from mine and looks back out at the ocean.

“I miss being out there,” he says reverently, side-stepping my question. “While I was growing up, the waves were the only thing that gave me solace. I could go out there, and all the other bullshit was…” He shakes his head, “...pointless. Nothing else mattered. It was peaceful. ”

I follow his gaze, trying to imagine a young, carefree Lucas out on his surfboard, living his best teenage rich-boy life. I bet he felt invincible.

“But sometimes…” He glances at me. “You can love something so much, it becomes dangerous.”

I have a feeling we’re not talking about surfing anymore, but I must be really dense because I’m still not getting it. How can you love something—or someone—too much?

“How can loving something be dangerous?” I ask, my breath hitching.

His gaze flicks over my face. “Loving something gives it the power to destroy you.”

We just stare at each other for a second while I try to absorb what he’s saying, waves crashing in the background. Is he talking about me? Us? Is he saying I have the power to destroy him somehow?

“But how? How could something you love destroy you?”

I don’t know why, exactly, but I’m actually afraid of his answer. My heart is hammering so hard, it’s all I can focus on. Lucas is clearly grappling with something and that can’t be a great sign.

I swallow, my eyes tracing his beautiful face, waiting for him to answer.

His gaze touches my face briefly, before darting away again. He shakes his head. “If you knew what I’ve done, just to touch you, Wyn—” He pushes out a breath. “There’s no way you’d ever forgive me…”