Page 214 of Chaos Kills

Torin’s gold eyes scan and evaluate my face as though he didn’t hear me before his attention stops where Matteo’s gun was just residing. “What did I tell you about being near Matteo De Leon?”

Here we go the fuck again.

Why didn’t I see it before?

Torin and Matteo are from the same damn lineage of assholes. They bark out orders, expect them not to be defied, and continue on their way. I wish I had that kind of faith in the human race that everything I said was going to be followed.

And here I thought I was a moron half the damn time.

“You’ve wasted your time,” I ground out as I pin a glower onto him. “And you lost that privilege, Pretty Boy. Do I need to remind you?”

He doesn’t flinch nor does he show any remorse at what he’s done, and that hurts.

A lot.

It hurts like a bitch.

“I was there,” he deadpans, and I feel my heart—the part that’s left—chip off a little bit more.

My nose wrinkles in loathing at how easily he turned, and I attempt another escape from his hold. “Go fuck yourself. And get away?—”

“I’ve been going easy on you, Wildfire. I’ve stayed away. I had hoped it’d get easier. When you’re not in my view, I can almost pretend like you never existed at all.” He blinks once and, for a second, I think I see him. I’m almost certain I just saw my Pretty Boy before he disappears behind glossy eyes that hold nothing at all in them. “But then I remember. I recall all the times I said I would protect you. That I’d gladly give you anything you ever wanted. Every warning and red flag I dismissed because I wanted you. I needed you, and there was nothing that was going to stand in the way of that.”

“Torin—”

“But Judah isn’t something I can easily forget. In fact, he haunts me every single fucking night, and I can’t deal. He was supposed to be alive—here. The Landings’ seat was all his. I was never going to take it. Now, it’s yours, and all you’re going to do is try to murder me with it.”

“I’m not going to hurt you. As fuckin’ stupid as that makes me.”

He slowly shakes his head. “You would. Once you get a feel for that power, baby…however, you won’t have to fight me about it. I’d gladly give myself away just to end the guilt trip I have for not allowing you to drown. But I can’t because of Cairo, Reeve, and Ozzy. I don’t trust that you wouldn’t stab them in the back. How can I leave when you hold so much of me in them?”

I understand his trepidation. How little confidence he has in me. I played a part in Judah’s murder. How the hell do you come back from that?

“If you’d let me speak, for once in your goddamn life,” I clip out under my breath. “Maybe you’d understand what the hell is going on here.”

He gives me a weak smile, but it does nothing to appease me. It only speaks volumes about the guilt that resides in him and the agony of losing his brother again after all this time. “Go ahead and tell me, Wildfire. You didn’t kill Judah. The video was edited. Tell me everything, baby.”

It’s my opportunity to say all those things, but he says them like he already knows. However, I can’t read his mind, so I’m not entirely sure what he’s finalized in his head.

Torin bends forward then, capturing every piece of oxygen that leaves my lungs like he just gained access to them. “Let’s say it was, for shits and giggles, Matteo who put the bullet in him and you had nothing to do with anything. You didn’t stop him. You didn’t get help. You never went back to see what happened to him. You let him die, Bay.” He straightens his spine and hits me with a look of disgust. “So, you’re just as guilty as the one who pulled the trigger.”

He suddenly drops his hold on me and steps back. My body mindlessly follows before I stop myself because Torin—regardless of his entitled-ass ways—was mine.

And I was his.

And he’s right.

I never went back. I worried about Judah, but I knew he was dead.

That’s what Matteo told me. He took care of the problem, and I was safe.

“Come on, Little T. We gotta go.”

It takes me several long seconds to register Cairo’s voice because I’m held hostage by Torin’s unsettling gaze and how he hasn’t pried it off me once.

Through the emptiness of those tawny eyes, I can still see him. All the things he said to me. Every stolen moment we once had.

The way we were going to end the rivalry between South Shore and The Landings.

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