Page 57 of You Belong With Me

Yeah, I don’t even have a great defense for that. I lied because I wanted to punish her. I wanted to drive her as far away as I could. “Wyn…”

“Did the other Sacred Sons know?”

“No,” I say truthfully. “I never told anyone what really happened.”

“So, okay, Gabriel was dead. What was the plan after that?” she asks. “Just kill every guy I went out with?”

Eventually, I hoped my obsession with her would fade. But after Gabriel’s “death,” it only got worse. That’s when I started stalking her.

Her eyes widen even more in realization. “Thatwasthe plan, wasn’t it? You nearly killed Kai…”

“But Ididn’t,” I point out. “And that should count for something.”

“Shut the fuck up!” She marches toward me in the sand, fury replacing fear on her beautiful face. “You killed an innocent person on those train tracks, Lucas! Don’t you realize that?”

I scoff. “Innocent?The guy was a drug dealer, and a fucking rapist, Wyn.”

She lifts her hands like she can’t believe me. “As usual, you’re missing the entire fucking point. Youthoughtyou killed your own cousin. Someone you loved.”

I give into the impulse to grab her, and she squeaks as I pull her against me. “And I’d do it again,” I whisper, squeezing her arms. “In a fucking heartbeat, if it meant I could be with you.”

She sucks in a sharp breath, but she doesn’t attempt to pull away. Maybe she’s too stunned by my confession—and I feel sick telling her this. I prayed she’d never have to know how monstrous I really am, or what a selfish cunt I can be. But when it comes to Wyn, I’ll always be selfish.

I mean, fuck, she’s the air in my lungs. She’s the blood in my veins. How can Inotbe selfish about that? Without her, I’m a fucking corpse.

Finally, she pushes against my chest, and I release her. She backs up, pointing at me. “I’m going back to my apartment…and you’re not going to follow me.”

“Wyn…”

“No!” she yells. “Whatever you’re going to say…no.” She starts walking backward, each step taking her further away from me. “I’m putting down a clear boundary, Lucas. Stay the fuck away from me.”

But as I watch her disappear into the darkness, my only thought is that I’ve never been good with boundaries…

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Wyn

I storm backto my apartment, in the dark, barefoot, absolutelyseething.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 getanyworse?

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.”

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