Chapter 25

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Wyn

I storm back to my apartment, in the dark, barefoot, absolutely seething. It’s a cold night, and all I’m wearing is a tank top, but I’m too pissed to even think about the cold, or the dangers of walking back to my apartment alone.

Honestly, even though I told Lucas to leave me alone, I know he’s lowkey following me. Lucas West couldn’t give up control to save his life.

As I jog across the dark street and make my way back to my building, my conversation with Lucas plays on repeat in my head. Never in a million years would I have thought he’d be capable of killing his own cousin. Never.

And maybe that’s what’s so scary about all this. His grief. His anger. Was all that an act? He says it wasn’t, but, honestly, I don’t know what to believe right now.

When I finally get back to my apartment, I realize the front door is locked, and I don’t have my keys or my phone. Tilting my head back, I scream, “Fuck” as loud as I can into the night sky.

One of the French doors is probably still open, but climbing up to my balcony in my bare feet is a no-go. Fuck. Fuck. Fuuuck. Could this night get any worse?

Releasing a frustrated breath, I press my forehead against the door and force myself to calm down, so I can figure out what I’m going to do next. Then it comes to me—my building manager. I think she has a key to my apartment.

It’s late as fuck, but whatever. I’m desperate, and I’m not walking all the way back to the bonfire, in the dark, to ask for help.

Straightening, I’m just about to turn around, when a large figure emerges from the shadows, and leans against the doorframe, right next to me. I glance up to see Lucas with my apartment key dangling from his fingertip.

I grab it with a scowl, shoving the key into the lock and pushing the door open. Spinning on the ball of my foot, I move to shut him out, but he places his palm on the edge of the door, preventing the door from closing.

“Fucking asshole,” I bite out, trying and failing to muscle the door closed. “I told you to leave me alone.”

Forcing the door open wider, he steps inside before closing it behind him. I take a step back as he advances deeper into the apartment. His expression is dark, sinister, and it sends a fissure of fear splintering through my chest.

“I’m not going anywhere, Wyn. I think you know that.”

I glance behind me at the door to the bathroom, which is wide open. I could grab my phone and dart inside, lock the door, then call for help. I know he’d just beat the door down eventually, but it would give me a few seconds to try and get help.

I don’t do that, though.

Why? Why don’t I do that?

He takes a step toward me, and I’m not expecting it right at that moment, so I flinch.

“Wyn,” he says, taking another measured step. “You don’t need to be afraid of me. You, of all fucking people.”

I hold my hand up and shake my head. “Lucas, please listen to me. I can’t do this, okay? I can’t be with someone who just…shoves people in front of trains.”

His face is pulled into a frown. He looks tormented, and for a split second, the hardness in my heart softens. I know it shouldn’t. I know that. But I can’t fucking help it. When he says he would never hurt me, I’m one hundred percent certain that’s true.

I mean, don’t get me wrong, he hurts me in the most delicious ways—but I know with every ounce of my soul that he’d never truly harm me. Still, does that make any of this right?

“Wyn,” he says again, holding his hand to his heart. His fingers curl inward like he wants to rip the dead organ right out of his chest. “Don’t do this. Please. ”

“I didn’t do anything, Lucas. You did.”

He drops his hand and clenches his jaw, a tic pulsing in his cheek. His gaze roves over me before he drops his head, and he abruptly walks over to my French doors. They’re still wide open from when I escaped earlier, and he pulls them closed, locks them, and then pulls the curtains together.

The breath snags in my lungs. What’s he planning on doing that he doesn’t want anyone else to see?

Then he stalks toward me, his head low, like a predator sizing up his prey. His lips are pulled tight, his eyes dark, and as he approaches, fear paralyzes me.

“W-what are you going to do?” I ask, my voice wobbling a little.

He takes another step toward me, then another, and just when I’m sure he’s going to reach out and grab me, he brushes past me, instead, and walks to my front door. He reaches out for the doorknob, then pauses, like he’s considering turning back around, but a second later, he yanks the door open and walks out.

When the door clicks shut behind him, I release the breath I’d been holding and sink onto my bed. I reach for a pillow, hold it against my face, and scream into it. The tears hit me like a tidal wave, every emotion pouring out of me—sadness, anger, fear, confusion. I ugly cry into the pillow until my eyes sting, and I can’t breathe.

Finally, I sit up, sniff hard, and reach for my phone to text the only person on the planet who might understand what I’m going through.

Are you awake?

Lux’s reply comes a couple of minutes later.

Yeah, just watching mindless shit on the internet. What’s up?

I type out my response.

Can you come over? I don’t want to be alone tonight.

Her boyfriend, Roman, used to be the leader of the Sacred Sons, so she knows not to ask too many questions over text.

Be there in a bit.

I heart that, then collapse back onto the mattress and try not to let my thoughts stray to Lucas, but that’s impossible. He’s all I can see in my mind’s eye, the tortured look on his face, the way he touched me on the lifeguard tower.…

With a groan, I get up and walk to the bathroom. His cum has dried on the inside of my thighs, and I’d better clean up before Lux gets here.

Grabbing a shower cap, I cover my hair and hop in the shower. The hot water feels amazing on my skin, and I take my time soaping up. But if I wanted to distract myself from thinking about Lucas, then this was the worst possible way, because the last time I was in this shower, Lucas had me up against the tiles with his cock buried deep inside me. It was violent and primal, and just thinking about it makes my clit tingle.

I’m in the shower for so long that the water eventually runs cold, and I’m forced to shut it off. Stepping out, I dry myself, then pull the shower cap off and toss it aside. I step in front of the mirror to brush my hair and for the first time, I see the damage Gabriel did to my face. There’s a purple bruise on my cheek, just below my left eye, and a one-inch cut on my neck.

The fucking bastard.

I lean toward the mirror to inspect the bruise more closely when suddenly, there’s a knock on my front door. It must be Lux. Quickly, I find a new pair of panties, and sweats and slip them on.

“Just a sec!” I call out, tossing my dirty clothes into the hamper on my way to the front door. I pull it open. “Wow, that wa–” The words die on my tongue when I see who is on the other side of the door. He looks so much like Lucas that my heart jolts every time I see him. “Christian,” I say. “What are you doing here?”

He’s leaning against my doorframe, looking casual and annoyed, which is pretty usual for him. “What’d you say to my brother?”

I blink at him. “Uh, why don’t you ask him?”

He rakes a hand over his face. “Yeah, I would, if he weren’t losing his motherfucking mind right now.”

Losing his mind? I’m dying to ask him what he means by that, but I just shrug, instead. I can’t get wrapped up in Lucas’ drama again. “Sorry, can’t help you.”

He scoffs, and just before I’m about to close the door, I glance over Christian’s shoulder and see a black sports car pull up. Lux pops out of the passenger side and heads up the walkway. She’s wearing sweats and an oversized hoodie with an overnight bag slung over her shoulder.

When she gets close enough, she addresses Christian, “What are you doing here?”

“Lucas is out of his mind.” He flicks his chin in my direction. “And I was hoping Wyn could talk him down.”

Lux scrunches her face, then looks at me, her gaze catching on my bruised cheek. “What the hell happened?”

I step aside and open the door wider. “I’ll explain…”

Christian’s phone pings, and he glances down at it, then hisses, “ shit. ”

My heart leaps into my throat. I’m trying to look I don’t give a fuck about Lucas, but the truth is, I do. I give a lot of fucks, and the fact that Lucas is losing it right now has me feeling every possible kind of way.

I swallow and try to keep my mouth shut, but curiosity gets the best of me. “What is it?”

“Gabriel just called a meeting.”

It’s the middle of the night, but that hardly matters. These guys call meetings at all-fucking-hours. It’s a wonder they get any sleep.

“Wait, Gabriel isn’t a Sacred Son,” Lux points out. “Does he have the authority to call a meeting?”

“Who fucking knows,” Christian says, pushing off the doorframe with a heavy sigh. “He probably wants to talk about the tribunal.”

Now, that catches my attention. “Tribunal? For who, Gabriel?”

“Yeah,” Christian says impatiently. “Lucas found evidence that Gabriel could be connected to another secret society.”

Another secret society? Wait, what?

I glance at Lux, and she glances back at me.

“We’re coming with you,” Lux says.

Christian is silent for a second—and I’m sure he’s weighing whether or not Roman and Lucas would give him shit about allowing us to tag along. In the end, though, he shrugs. “Fine, whatever.” He points at me. “But let’s be clear, you’re only coming so you can talk some sense into my brother. You leave before Gabriel pops up.”

My heart crawls up into my throat. “Yeah, sure.”

I have no intention of talking to Lucas at all, actually. He’s a weakness I can’t seem to shake, and whenever we’re face-to-face, I find myself falling head-first into those stunning blue eyes, which is the exact opposite of what I should be doing.

Lux tosses her bag into my apartment, and I throw some shoes and a baggy sweatshirt on, then grab my purse. We all pile into Christian’s car, and Lux takes the front seat, which means I’m wedged into the back with a bunch of fast-food wrappers. Ugh , boys are so gross. I shove the wrappers aside and buckle up.

Thankfully, Rush House is only a few minutes away, and as we pull into the driveway, I see Lucas’ car. My heart leaps into my throat, and my heart starts hammering against my ribs. I just saw him less than an hour ago—why does the idea of seeing him again make me feel like I’m going to pass out?

Christian and Lux get out, and I push the passenger seat forward, getting out as well. I take my phone but leave my purse because we won’t be here for very long, anyway. Hopefully. And if my purse is in Christian’s car, then he’ll have to be the one to take me home. That’s my logic, anyway.

As we approach the back door, I can hear Lucas ranting—but not from inside the house. His voice is coming from somewhere on the lawn. His deep baritone carries on the icy ocean breeze.

“ Fuck ,” Christian says, urging me to follow him. “Come on.”

He leads Lux and me around to the side of the house—the house is perched on a steep cliff that looks out over the ocean—and I see Lucas immediately. He’s ranting, near the edge of the cliff, surrounded by Roman, Jackson, Ash, and a few of the other senior members, all trying to reason with him. Roman must have come right over after dropping Lux off at my place.

“No, no!” Lucas yells. “Fuck this!”

Oh, damn.

Christian was right. He’s fucking lost it. He doesn’t even look angry. He looks… completely lost, and I have the instinctual urge to go to him.

See? This is exactly why I can’t be around him. All I want to do is wrap my arms around him, rest my head against his chest, and soothe that tortured look that’s written all over his beautiful face.

Someone from the group spots Christan, Lux, and me, which draws everyone else’s attention to us, too, including Lucas’. He drops his arms, and stares at me, like he’s trying to decide if I’m really here. Like he’s trying to make sense of it.

Christian turns to me, and gestures to his brother. “See what I’m saying? He’s fucking lost it.”

I lift my arms helplessly. Everyone staring at me expectantly. “I don’t know what you expect me to do about it.”

Christian steps in front of me, cutting off my view of Lucas. For the first time since knowing him, his eyes soften, and he looks genuinely concerned. “You’re the only one he’ll listen to. Please , Wyn.”

I swallow, looking into Christian’s pleading eyes, and before I even realize what I’m doing, I’m nodding. Goddamn. Will I ever be capable of saying no to a West boy…?