Page 83 of Falling in Reverse

TRAVIS: Says the chick who doesn’t like mayo, Bay.

BAY: What time do you get off work today?

TRAVIS: When I get done with this presentation for my boss.

“What are my chances of you keeping your voice down in here?”

Steering my attention from my phone to Hot Rod, he’s already staring at me and impatiently waiting for me to stop fucking on my phone.

I chuckle. “Pretty good, because you’re in my secret hiding spot as of late.”

His facial expression doesn’t illuminate any jokes on the horizon, or that he’s going to say something that’s just going to get me to shrug it off.

No, this is serious.

“Dude, what?”

“It’s Levi,” he grounds out, crossing his bulky inked arms along his matching chest. “And you need to shut the fuck up with the next part.” My heart automatically begins to beat on itself in my chest as I stare back at my buddy, who’s Levi’s buddy, whose family. “Forsaken Crew picked him up last night. We were on a run and—” I step forward, hoping the movement will wake me up from a nightmare or from falling asleep in class.

“Stop,” I seize through my teeth. “This isn’t funny, Hot?—”

“Do I look like I’m fuckin’ around?” He furrows his brows at me and continues, “I saw that Torin motherfucker. We were…pickin’ off some cars last night in Wharf Bay. Blacked-out SUV came rollin’ down the street, and started poppin’ off rounds. Juice and I took cover, thought he was right the fuck behind us.” He rubs at his temple and blows out a heavy breath. “He was right behind us.”

I place a palm on his bicep and squeeze in comfort. And to also keep me from definitely freaking the hell out.

All I can hear are the same things over and over and over again.

Torin motherfucker.

He was right behind us.

“Is that the first shot, baby? You’re going to war with me?”

I pushed him too hard the other night. I called his bluff, and now my best friend is paying for the shit I’ve been keeping from him because I wouldn’t back down.

I can’t take any more of this. I’m not eating. I’m barely sleeping. And South Shore is becoming a breeding ground for misery these days.

“Where…is he?”

“They scooped him up,” he deadpans, filling in the blanks, but not all of them.

“Did you…” I brace myself for the answer before I even ask the question. “Did you find blood?”

Hot Rod nods once, and the space around us feels like it’s closing in.

A weighty pressure falls to my chest, and I summon every piece of courage and rationality to come to the forefront of my brain, because having a nervous breakdown is the last thing that’s going to make this better.

“There’s something else,” Hot Rod mutters eerily. “And I’m not sure which you’re not gonna like more.”

I meet his hazel eyes and hold my breath. It’s up to him if he’s going to let me faint on the ground or come out with it. I’m hoping he takes longer than the latter because I need a nap.

“Levi…is the leader of The Nameless, Bay. And the Titan seat in South Shore.”

I scoff dismissively, not even letting the comment scratch the surface of my already bruised brain. “No, he’s not.”

Hot Rod cocks his head in mock challenge, and I immediately notice that there’s no humor in his expression. “Why do you think no one fucks with you? Why do you think Matteo De Leon fucked off after you separated from him? Why is it that you can run favors and not be initiated in? You’ve been runnin’ with all of us for years, Bay. We’re all?—”

“Don’t.” I shove my palm in his face, blocking it and anything else he has to say. I am one more circumstance away from losing my entire mind right now. “Don’t you dare tell me you’re all part?—”

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