Page 24 of November's Bad Boy: Kacen
Realization dawns in her eyes, but she doesn't answer fast enough.
"You promised," I say, voice low and shaking. "You looked me in the eye and promised."
She sets down the spoon she was holding, stepping toward me. "Kacen, I didn’t tell her. She already knew."
I laugh. It sounds harsh, broken. "That’s convenient."
Her expression hardens. "It’s the truth. I asked a question. She filled in the blanks."
"You knew what asking would do. You wanted her to know. You wanted this."
Her jaw tightens. "Why would I want this?"
"Revenge. Maybe you couldn’t humiliate me in high school, but now? Now you get to make me and my brother into some public sob story. The broken boys trying to make good."
Her face goes pale. "That’s not fair."
"Isn't it?"
Her voice rises, fierce now. "You think I’d weaponize your brother’s kindness? You think I’d make a hero moment out of your pain?"
"I didn’t do this to hurt you. I did it because Kingston deserves to be seen."
"He doesn’t want to be seen!"
I’m shouting now. The walls feel too close, my skin too tight. She steps back, but only slightly.
"You don’t get it," I say. "You don’t get what it cost him to do all this. To stay quiet. To help without asking for anything. And you threw it away for a flyer and a moment."
"You wanted to be forgiven. You wanted to start over. But in one moment you act like I’m the villain again," she says, her voice thick, but she doesn’t cry. Not yet. Her eyes shine, but she blinks back the tears like hell will freeze before she lets them fall.
"You think so little of me," she says. "You think I would betray you for a flyer?"
"I think you wanted your win. You wanted your justice. Well, congrats. You got it."
She flinches like I struck her. The silence that follows is louder than anything else.
I can’t stay. I can’t look at her.
I turn on my heel and leave. The door slams behind me.
I hear it echo and think—this is what Dad would've done. Accused. Stormed off. Slammed a door. Great. So now I'm him too.
Once back at Kingston's, I sit in the truck longer than I should. Hands gripping the wheel. Forehead pressed to the steering wheel. My breathing's erratic. I reach for my phone, open a message to Kingston.
Me: Bro, she knows.
Backspace.
Me: Natalie told Ruby.
Backspace.
I toss the phone onto the passenger seat like it burned me. My chest still feels like it’s caving in. My brother trusted me. I trusted her. And it’s all unraveling.
Finally, I throw the truck in reverse, but I don’t know where I’m going. Anywhere but here.
She promised.
