Page 16 of Twisted Secrets

Swallowing hard, I nod, knowing all the while I’m truly not ready for his reasoning.

His teeth grind, brows knitted together tightly, and his expression alone tells me I don’t need to hear the reason, because whatever it is, it’s more than enough for him.

“I do hate you, Scar. For years, I’ve loathed your existence. Wanted you gone. Out of our lives. And you wanna know why? Because I have to. I have to hate you.”

It takes me a second to process his words, but once I do, I’m more confused than ever.He hates me because he has to?

Through dried vocal cords, I choke out, “You have to hate me?”

Pursing his lips, he nods, his villainous stance never faltering.

After years of being on the receiving end of his hatred, I see light at the end of the tunnel—figuratively speaking. My hand rises to his arm. “You don’t have to hate me if you don’t want to.”

In an instant, he slaps my hand away. “Don’t fucking touch me.” He spins around, fisting his hair, as if his mind is tortured. “Don’t ever fucking touch me.”

“But—”

He comes at me full force, putting me back in my place. Our noses brush as he grinds out, “I. Will. Never. Not. Hate. You, Scar. Do you understand me?” I inhale his hot breath, my limbs quivering. “Nothing you do or say will ever change the sheer agony I feel in your presence. I despise you. Your touch repulses me. Your existence makes me sick. You are toxic. A poison I refuse to ingest. Crew and Jagger can drink it up, but not me. I’d die first.”

My heart caves in before slowly sinking down into my stomach. It hurts. It really fucking hurts. His words are repulsive. As repulsive as he claims I am. But I needed to hear them, because now, I can give up.

I lift a shoulder, my expression apathetic. “It’s a shame, really. I’d love nothing more than to watch you suffer a slow agony while my venom eats away at your dejected soul.”

He calls me toxic—a poison he refuses to ingest—but he’s already dead inside, so what’s it matter? Nothing I say at this point will have any bearing on the way Neo feels about me, and right now, I don’t fucking care.

Tears pool in my eyes, but they stem from anger, rather than hurt.

With a balled fist, I bring it down on his arm, causing it to drop from the wall. Then I step around him. Instead of taking the route we were heading down, I leave in the direction we came, back toward the party.

One glance over my shoulder shows him with his hands back on the wall and his head hung low. His eyes lift slowly to meet mine, but he doesn’t say anything, just looks at me with a scornful expression.

If he wants to stop me, he can try, but I’ll fight back this time.

ChapterSix

NEO

She had one thing right—mysoul is dejected. I’m already dead inside. The blood in my veins runs cold, has done for years. Even the heat Scar radiates around her cannot thaw the glacial mass inside my chest. What she doesn’t know, and never will, is that my biggest fear is never feeling alive again.

When you’ve been programmed since adolescence to view the world a certain way, it’s the only way you know. I can’t change who I am. No matter how hard I try, I’m unable to feel some of the most basic human emotions—empathy, love, fear. At least, when it pertains to her.

Loneliness is a fucking bitch, but I refuse to let myself get swept into her chaos for a momentary bout of happiness. Not that she could make me happy. Not that anyone can.

I’m doing the right thing.

Pushing her away while keeping her close. It has to be this way. I’ve always known this to be true. So why is it getting harder? Why do I look at her with Crew and Jagger and want nothing more than to decapitate my own friends, just so they can’t look at her or taste her ever again? Why does the thought of any guy looking at her and undressing her with their eyes make me want to put her in a cage and keep her as my own little pet? I hate her. Everything about her repulses me. So why do I want her so fucking bad?

I shake away the thoughts, knowing it’s my pride filling my head with this shit. It’s simple. I want her because I can’t have her. Because I canneverhave her. She could be the last girl on Earth, and as long as I’m a Blue Blood, she can never be mine. Not to mention, she’s already spoken for.

Walking in the direction I was headed, I keep the plan I had, but without Scar. I need to prep Jude’s room for him. It won’t be long and we’ll be able to force out the answers we need.

I really didn’t need Scar’s help, but it was a good opportunity to get her away from the booze I knew she’d keep drinking. They’d all end up shit-faced, probably have a threesome, and I’d have to listen to them all night. Now, she’ll probably go back and flaunt her ass in front of the entire school while doing juvenile keg stands.

It’s best this way. One more minute with her and I’m sure I’d forget why I have to hate her so much, and I can never let that happen.

So far everything is adding up. I’m almost positive I know Jude’s motive. Now I just have to figure out his means. How has one person been behind all of this shit? A seventeen-year-old kid has preyed upon students here and he’s been right under our noses this entire time? He has to have someone helping him, and I don’t just mean Melody as his henchman. But, who? Did he recruit another student?

I’ve searched that room from top to bottom and I’ve examined every bit of information. At this point, I probably know more about the Becketts than they know about themselves.

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