Page 28 of Bitter Truths

Grabbing my hips, he sways to the music, and with a trickle of unease, I stiffen in his embrace. “Griff—”

Ignoring me, he leans his head into the crook of my neck. I move to push him away, but his next words stop me. “I dreamed about you.”

“When?” I ask, shivering when he breathes me in, his nose caressing my skin.

“Before I met you.”

“What? That doesn’t make sense.”

He shrugs, and we tilt to the side. With all my strength, I pull him back up, and he wraps his arms around me, but now I’m trapped.

I contemplate my options when he shudders, and with a sinking sensation in my stomach, I ask, “Griff? What’s going on?”

“I thought you were sent to me. For me. But I guess that was stupid. I didn’t fucking deserve it. You,” he mumbles.

“I don’t understand.” Are these drunk ramblings or a peek into his fucked-up psyche?

Do I want to know? I think I do.

“I was fucking stupid. That’s what it means.”

He raises his head, and his glittering eyes meet mine, but they darken into pools of pain, and I clench his arms to keep him with me.

“What? What’s wrong?” I ask, shouting to be heard over the music.

He cocks his head to the side, his mouth pulling into the smirk I love to hate. “I’m a monster, sweetheart. A fucking monster.”

With that, he lurches away, and I watch him go, fighting my instinct to go after him, which I lose. Pushing through the crowd, I halt when the last person I want to see comes into my view, and Griffin disappears into the masses.

Will Jameson is standing by the bar. Fucker.

As if sensing my stare, he turns his head my way, and his eyes narrow before he tips his head to his companion and slips from the stool.

Clenching my hands at my sides, I will my rapidly pumping heart to calm the fuck down and take slow, even breaths.

These fuckers don’t control me anymore. I do. We’ll see how he likes his nuts shoved down his throat.

He pushes through the crowd with a wicked grin, and I pull my lips into a smirk, gratified when his brows drop over his eyes.

He’s almost before me when a hulking figure steps between us, and fists start flying. Wide-eyed, I stare between Griffin and Will as they drop to the floor and roll around like heathens.

“Fucker,” Griffin grunts, slamming Will’s head to the concrete floor.

I wince because that’s gotta hurt, but I can’t say the burn of motherfucking satisfaction doesn’t fill my icy veins.

Will throws a punch, but he’s no match for Griff, who goes in for the kill, punching him repeatedly in the face. After what feels like an eternity, Griff is still pounding away, but Will is no longer responsive, and I step in to stop him before he commits murder when a hulking blond dude does the honors.

“Bro, back off,” he says, picking a swinging Griffin up by his neck.

Griffin meets my stare, his eyes wild, and I step back, my heart clenching brutally in my chest. I’m not prepared for the raw emotion I see, and I flinch when he bows his head, groaning, “Hals.”

I don’t know what he wants, but I do know I can’t do this, and I turn away from that look and his defeated tone, pushing through the crowd.

Aaron comes into view, and when he’s within reach, I grab his hand and pull him away, glancing back to find Griffin staring after me.

But I’m so fucking out of it that all I want is to find an escape.

“What was that about? Jesus, Halsey, you’re shaking. Are you okay?”

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