Page 118 of Hellbent
Damian, bloody with rage.
Because of me.
Because of my choices. My betrayal.
Jake throws me a last glance before stepping outside. “I’ll come by tomorrow,” he says. “We’ll talk.”
I nod, unable to speak. My throat’s too tight.
Behind me, Wyatt’s talking low, but whatever he says sets Ryder off.
“I need a fucking minute,” Ryder snarls, storming out the side door just as the sound of Jake’s truck rumbles to life.
Another engine starts.
Then they’re gone.
And it’s just me and Wyatt, standing in the ruins.
Broken chairs. Wine stains on the floor. Shattered glass in the corner.
And silence.
So much silence.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
I DON’T REALIZE I’ve fallen asleep until I wake up cold.
Ryder’s sheets are tangled around my legs. The window is slightly open and the wind battering the side of the house is whistling through the crack, whipping the curtains around. I stand and close it. The windowsill is damp. Rain is still pelting down.
The driveway below is empty, the gravel washed out where Ryder’s truck should be.
I check the clock. 12:04. It’s been four hours since he stormed out with blood on his knuckles. Three since Wyatt and I finally put the broom away and said our goodbyes.
“He’ll be back before you know it,” he had said, brow creased with concern that he tried to hide with a smile. “And then I will.”
Now it’s just me.
I lay back down in the bed and press my face into the pillow and breathe him in. A smell like the woods at night, like the ocean. That rough, cold spice that clings to him even after ashower. I could drown in it. I already have—that’s the reason everything is so fucked right now.
I think about Damian.
About the way he looked at me as Jake pulled him out of the house. Angry, distant, betrayed. Like I wasn’t the same girl he worked with, slept with, knew. Like I was someone he didn’t recognize. Someone he didn’t like.
I hurt him, and I don’t know how to live with that.
I hurt him without thinking, without sense. Last night—was it only last night?—when Scar had thrown me to the ground, I had thought that all of this was over. Finding safety in Ryder’s arms had been mindless, something I was helpless against.
And in the same breath, I chastise myself.How mindless was it?I’ve been attuned to Ryder since the moment I saw him.
I turn my head toward the window. The rain claws at it like it’s trying to get in. The wind picks up. The whole house shivers.
For a second, I think about going back to the garage. Back to the storage room, the fluorescent hum of the overhead lights, the place I first landed when I crawled out of hell. I don’t belong in Ryder’s bed.
But Wyatt is gone. Billy has a bounty on my head. There’s nowhere I can go anymore.
I wake up again to the sound of the front door creaking open downstairs. I hear the slow tread of boots—his boots—crossing the threshold, and something inside me releases and breathes.
