Page 218 of Falling in Reverse

I’ve hid behind a mask of humor and lived a lie that I’m fine because I refuse to delve down a road of darkness that I never see myself coming out of. I’ve been there, done that. I’m so fucked up that the name sinner doesn’t quite fit my name but a monster.

Rapist.

Incest.

Shame.

Disgusting, all seems to be the core words of my anatomy. And when I thought my past was behind me, and I’d hear shitty comments from men like Greevy running his mouth, I’m back at the age of fourteen. I’ve been made an example out of, I’ve done things that are unspeakable, and my loyalty for lusting to fuck women only tested.

Though I’m a stubborn motherfucker, and my mama could never totally break me. Out of, not only spite, but my being so headstrong, I’d never allow her to win.

“Boys!” Torin calls out on the phone. “Come watch the show Reeve is gonna put on with the princess of South Shore.”

I hear more hoots and hollers of the motherfuckers behind me, and I’m gonna kill them all. Maybe not today, but they’re all gonna get buried in the ground soon enough. Torin’s plan is risky as hell, stupid even, but he’s not so blinded by his dislike for South Shore or Bay Astor to ever have her raped.

“Fight me,” I mutter quickly. “Punch me, pinch, I don’t give a fuck. I’m gonna pull your pants down in a minute and you’re gonna fight me like you would anyone else who’s putting their hands on you. Make it real, Bay. Your life and mine fucking depends on it.”

I seize her throat, watching her eyes widen in surprise again, and I fight back the nervousness that creeps up my spine.

This has to work.

If not, we’re both so fucked it’s not even funny.

“I’m not gonna fuck you, but I’m gonna get awfully close, baby. Make it real. Call me every fucking name. I’m so sorry.”

I straighten my spine and feel an unwanted presence at my side again. Glimpsing over my shoulder to Greevy, she responds back with, “Do you want to fucking die?”

Yes.

Kinda.

I’d rather run away from all this and never come back to The Landings, but my brothers need me. I’ve never let them down before, and I’m not going to now, because they are literally all I have left in this world.

Slowly, I steer my forming glare to Bay, playing the role I perform almost every day I’m out of my shell. “And who’s gonna do that?”

The punch to my ribs that follows explains the thought she had in mind and, well…I told her to carry out what she’d do.

And now I have to do mine.

I answer her hit with one of my own, plowing my tightly clenched hand into her gut in response and she keels over.

Stepping away, I motion with my hand to a dude named Brooks. “Something to tie this bitch up with.”

Bay moves again, slamming her heel into the top of my foot before swinging on me, and motherfuck.

I liked her the moment I saw her swing on Davis weeks ago and now I understand what that bastard felt. Also, I realize, I don’t enjoy being on this side either.

Sucking in a snarl, a pair of handcuffs fly in my direction. The cool metal hits my fingertips, and I fight the urge to drop them before slapping one over one of her wrists. She kicks up her ninja game a notch, headbutting me and catching me in the chin, rattling my teeth together, and this time I roar out in frustration and pain.

The men behind me continue on with their sick laughter and words of encouragement when I finally get Bay’s other wrist. She thrusts her pretty face at me again, but I catch it with my palm.

We can act all day—whether her side is real or not—but I’m definitely going to stop getting my ass hit if I can.

Quickly scanning the street and buildings surrounding us, I look for my prayer. The one who’s gonna catch me in this act and get me out of it.

When a slap to my shoulder pulls me from my hope, I had forgotten Greevy and his dark blue eyes riding down Bay’s front.

Didn’t I just tell this jackoff to fuck off?

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