Page 38 of Unmask
“Can’t you?” Raine challenged.
“I don’t see how.”
“You can start by forgiving him,” Raine said, and the simplicity of it was devastating.
“You don’t beat around the bush, do you?” I sighed. “I’m not there, Raine. Not with any of you, but definitely not with Kreed.”
My heart cracked down the middle, the pain of it immediate, visceral, radiating through my chest and settling in my bones.
“But he can sleep it off,” she conceded after a beat. “A few hours. Then youbothleave.”
Relief flooded through me so fast it left me dizzy, a rush of gratitude so intense I nearly forgot to keep breathing. Not forgiveness, we were nowhere close to that, but not complete rejection either. Somewhere in between, which was more than I deserved and less than I needed.
Despite the fact that this entire conversation was centered around me, around my failures and my spiral into self-destruction, I didn’t want it to end. Didn’t want to break whatever fragile spell had settled over this house, this moment of almost peace. I didn’t want her to kick me out, to send me back to the crushing gravity of my father’s disappointment and the empty bottles that had become my only reliable companions.
Was it a cheap move to pretend to fall asleep so I could stay as long as possible? Maybe stretch it into the night if I played my cards right? Absolutely. But I didn’t give a shit about playing fair anymore. Desperation had a way of stripping away pride, leaving only the raw need to be close to the one person who could quiet the chaos in my head.
The only thing that would make this night better was if Raine made himself scarce, disappeared into the darkness, and left me alone with her. I wanted him gone with a fierce, selfish intensity that surprised me. But I also knew she felt safer with him there, a buffer between us, a familiar presence that kept her from being alone with the person who’d shattered her trust.
I’d allow it for now, swallow the jealousy and the need for privacy, but eventually, when she’d relaxed enough to let her guard down, Raine would have to go.
“I know he’ll appreciate it,” Raine said. “How are you holding up?”
“Seriously?” Kaylor laughed disbelievingly. “You’re asking me how I’m doing?”
“Is that a crime?”
“Coming from you? Yeah, it kind of is.” The bitterness in her tone was fresh, recent, like a wound that hadn’t quite scabbed over yet.
Raine chuckled a little grimly. “Would it help if I said you’re nothing like I expected?”
“Not really.” Her response was immediate.
“Fair enough.” His tone shifted, softer now. “But if I could go back, I would’ve done things differently. It took me too long to realize that you’re as much of an instrument as we are. More so if I’m being honest.”
“That sounds like a manipulation tactic.”
“It’s not. Though I’ve definitely used worse.”
“Was that your version of an apology?” she asked curiously.
“I’m sorry you got dragged into this,” Raine said. “Sorry that we didn’t protect you when it mattered.”
Those were my words, my apology, yet it sounded so much more sincere and believable from Raine’s lips, and I half envied, half cursed him for it.
“That’s not good enough,” she said eventually. “But I’m tired, Raine. Hating you all takes effort. And I’m running low.”
“Don’t let it fester,” my brother murmured. “Trust me. It’ll eat you alive and turn you into something you won’t recognize. Kreed…he’s fucked up about how things unfolded.”
“Good.”
“You’re ruthless.” Admiration laced in Raine’s voice now, the type of respect he reserved for people who could match his own capacity for calculated cruelty. “It’s that spirit that makes you more Raven than Viper.”
“I’m not part of any crew.” The denial was immediate, fierce, but I caught the slight tremor underneath it, uncertainty perhaps.
“Remember that, killer Kay,” Raine said, and I could hear the smile in his voice, quiet amusement threading through his words like silk. The nickname rolled off his tongue with easy familiarity, and a stab of possessiveness twisted in my gut.
I kept my eyes shut, body still, feigning sleep while the last traces of alcohol fogged my head. Kaylor’s soft voice mixed with Raine’s deeper one in the background, the kind of low conversation that should have lulled me. It didn’t. Not when I heard the slight shift in Raine’s tone, the way it warmed like honey when he said her name. My jaw tightened. Then I heard him move, the couch springs groaning slightly, and her breath hitched just barely. I cracked my eyes open a sliver, enough to see his damn hand brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear.
