Page 112 of Beyond the Hate

“Really? Did you forget I’m a gold digger? I will not have you running around the island claiming I used you to have somewhere to host the brewery after the hurricane.”

“I would never—”

I hold up a hand. “You can stop whatever you’re going to say right there. I can’t believe anything you claim you will never do again. Because,” I lean forward to hiss in his face, “I don’t trust you.”

Pain flashes in his eyes but I ignore it. He deserves to feel some pain after the things he said to me. He can’t cause me pain and remain unscathed. He’s lucky I haven’t unleashed my prank power on him.

Yet. I haven’t unleashed my prank power on him yet. Because after today, the pranking is back on. I’m not holding Chloe back any more. I’m done being a civil adult. No one else is. Why should I be?

“Can I explain?”

I bark out a laugh. “You want me to allow you to explain? Do I need to explain the definition of hypocrite to you?”

“I know the definition. And I know I fit the definition.”

“Good.” I clap. “Proud of you.”

He picks up a box and puts it together.

“What are you doing?”

“If you’re not going to listen to me, I’ll help you.”

“I don’t need your help.”

“You have it anyway.”

“Whatever. Stay on your side of the room and I’ll stay on mine.”

I stomp off to the furthest corner of the room. I manage to fill an entire box before he speaks again.

“Can I please explain why I was an asshole?”

“At least you realize you’re an asshole.”

“I’m the world’s biggest asshole for hurting you.”

“If you expect me to disagree, you’ll be waiting a long time.”

He chuckles. “I love how you don’t beat around the bush. You tell me how it is. It’s one of the things I love about you.”

I narrow my eyes on him. “You’re not allowed to say there are things you love about me after telling me our relationship was only a bit of fun.”

“I was hurting and lashed out.”

“You were hurting?” I purse my lips. “You overheard something, misunderstood the meaning, and then unleashed your fury on the world. If you were hurting, it was your own damn fault.”

“I know.” He clears his throat. “Can I show you something?”

I narrow my eyes on him. “What?”

He removes an item from his back pocket and offers it to me. When I hesitate to take it, he waves it at me. “It’s a picture. It won’t bite.”

I step closer and snatch the picture from him before retreating. I look at it and gasp. The man in this picture could be Eli’s twin.

“It’s my dad. This was taken a few days before my sixteenth birthday.”

My heart aches for him. His dad left right before his sixteenth birthday.

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