Page 97 of Chaos at Westbrook High

Creeping out into the hallway, I stop outside Kai’s bedroom for a few beats, but I don’t have the balls to go in there. A few moments later, I find myself standing at the top of the stairs in the middle of the night, leaning on the railing overlooking the living room.

I feel him standing behind me, watching me while I watch my brother sleeping on the couch, but I’m too stubborn to turn around and acknowledge him.

I don’t know how much time passes before he finally steps forward, his heat at my back causing the hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end.

“He’s depressed,” I say, keeping my eyes on Derek.

“Yeah, I figured,” Kai says quietly. Wrapping his arms around me from behind, he rests his chin on my shoulder, his fingers curling around the fabric of my shirt. “When our mom died, my brothers became different people overnight. Damon was so angry, and Wren just kind of…lost himself.”

I nod silently, my lips trembling as I lean back into his warm body.

“Valerie was your mom, wasn’t she?”

I close my eyes, struggling not to choke. “She was the only one I ever knew.”

“I’m sorry,” Kai whispers, tightening his arms around me. “I’m so fucking sorry, baby.”

“It’s not your fault,” I tell him again.

“Are you sure you believe that?”

“I’m sure.”

Kai buries his face into my neck, watching Derek with me. “Does he drink and get high a lot?”

“All the time.” I pause, then ask, “Is that when Wren started smoking? After your mom died?”

“No. He’d never touched drugs until the night he caught Freya cheating on him.”

Rolling my lips, I drop my eyes. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Did you change like your brothers did?”

“Not really. I’ve always been a cocky little shit. I just became a fuck boy.”

“When you were thirteen?”

He turns his head, brushing his mouth over the pulse point in my neck. “No, smartass. I was fifteen when I lost my virginity.”

“Hm.” I smile and take his hands in mine, crossing his arms over my stomach. “How many girls have you been with, Kai?”

“I don’t know, baby,” he admits, and I don’t miss that hint of sadness returning to his tone. “I lost count a while ago.”

“Why do you do it?”

He shrugs against me, his tongue on my neck making me shiver all over. “I like the attention. Touching and being touched. Mostly I do it to fuck all the pain away.”

“Does it work?”

“Yeah,” he says. “For a little bit.”

“Is that what you’re doing with me?” I ask. “Trying to fuck it all away?”

He hesitates, his mouth pausing. “You sure you’re ready to hear the answer to that?”

“No,” I say honestly. “Don’t tell me.”

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