Page 121 of Prince of Pain

“Ry, don’t. It’ll be fine. Chan will fix it.”

She seriously believed that.

Her eyes filled with hope, and I could see her thinking hard about it. Channing would show up and sell to us, then what? In three day’s time, we’d run out, start to come down, and take it out on each other?

I’d always said Tempest was misunderstood, that only I got her because I knew those same demons. That was bullshit though.

Tempest was a manipulative bitch, pulling the strings like we were her puppets. She drugged my drink because when I was high, I was just as bad as her.

She didn’t give a fuck about me, she only cared about herself.

I should’ve listened when people said she’d destroy me.

“You need to be gone by tomorrow morning,” I said flatly, pushing her back as she tried to grab my shirt again. “Stop it! You put me in a position where I wasn’t thinking clearly. You might not have shoved the powder up my nose or forced the ice pipe into my hand, but this is on you, Tempest. My family fucking hate me. I hit my mom.”

Nausea swirled inside me at the thought, wondering if I’d hurt her. Not physically, my mom could take a hit from monsters bigger than me, but I’d said some awful things to her while being angry about her dragging me away from Tempest and our hotel room of horrors.

That bitch had somehow scrambled my brain into thinking it was just us against everyone else, but in reality, there were no sides to take.

Tempest thought the world was against her, but she was the one fighting the world.

She’d started this, and I’d jumped to her defense like a fucking idiot, tearing apart my family in the process.

“You’re kicking me out?” she asked with a sob, trying to cling to me as I started walking to the bedroom, ignoring her. “Ryder!”

I grabbed her, shoving her away as hard as I could and not giving a fuck as she hit the dresser in the corner. I hoped it fucking hurt.

I started shoving some of my things into a bag as I spoke, snatching one of her bags and tossing it in her direction. “I’m going to go, and when I come back in the morning, you’d better be fucking gone, or so help me, Tempest, I’m going to fucking kill you.”

“You can’t leave me!”

Her hysterics were probably concerning the neighbors, and part of me hoped they called the fucking cops and took her away.

When I didn’t speak, continuing to shove my things into the bag, she surprisingly pulled a large shirt on and went quiet. I should’ve known better when she left the room and stopped fighting me.

I’d just swung my bag over my shoulder and put my phone in my pocket when a loud bang sounded outside that rattled the windows, my feet moving faster. “What the fuck was that?”

She didn’t reply, and my heart sank as I flung open the front door to find my Hellcat ablaze, her manic eyes on me from a few feet away. “You can’t leave me!”

“You fucking psycho bitch,” I snapped, letting my bag drop to the ground as I grabbed her. All I felt was anger, and I didn’t even realize I’d started laying into her until someone yanked me off her.

“Donovan! Stop!” Channing. It sounded like Channing. I swung around with a snarl, surprised to find a gun in my face. “Don’t fucking come at me, man. I’m the one stopping you from getting hauled off to prison.”

Tempest was curled up on the ground, sobbing with a bloodied face and Mason fussing over her, and I snorted. “She’s all yours, Mase. Might want to take her home before you don’t get the chance.”

“Shut up, asshole,” Mason growled, continuing to look over Tempest’s injuries.

“You see my one hundred thousand dollar car on fire, right?”

Sirens sounded from somewhere, but I didn’t care. The car wasn’t salvageable.

“It’s just a car.”

“Did you assholes know she fucked with my drink that night?” I asked sharply as I looked back at Channing, knowing he was the least likely to lie. From the way his eyes narrowed, I knew it was the first he was hearing about it.

“What are you talking about?”

A bitter laugh escaped me, and I raked a hand through my hair. “She’s the one that spiked my drink. All because she was lonely in her self-sabotaged downfall. The first year and a half is the worst when getting sober, you know? I was eight months in, but it felt like a lifetime. She crushed it all because she was fucking bored and needed someone to drown with her.”

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