Page 53 of Chaos Kills

“Eh, I didn’t love you.“ He takes a step back like it’s nothing while my body gravitates toward his to get closer again. “I loved fucking you. I see that now.” Bobbing his head, as if confirming that fact as a sharp pain forms in my gut. “Honestly…it’s not that big of a deal. However, I’ll keep in mind where I party so that your goons can’t take away the two chicks I was going to bone tonight.” He slaps my shoulder like I’m one of his buddies. “But don’t worry, there’s plenty more where that came from. And I’m not particularly picky. I swing both ways, so any chick or dude will do just fine to get me off a few times a night.”

“Don’t be like that.” My jaw trembles with each word, searching for a morsel of the dude I fell in love with.

But I don’t find him anywhere. Even when he’s right in front of me, he’s gone.

“Be like what?” He cocks his head to the side before something crosses over his features like an epiphany just hit him. “Ahh…I see.” I’m not sure what he sees, but he’s quick to fill me in. “Ozzy’s not gonna touch you.” He tsks as if that’s a pity. “Bad move, little McQueen. You’re not gonna get any dick.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Torin’s out of the picture, for sure.” He continues as if I said nothing, scanning the party behind me. “Cairo, he won’t fuck you because he’s smarter than all of us.” His hazels swing back to me. “I guess that leaves me.”

“We can work through this.” At first, I’m not sure if my muttered words even make it to his ears but realize they did because he hits me back with more revulsion.

“Relax,” he coos softly, but not offering any comfort. “You can detach easily enough, and so can I, baby. Plus, I never had a problem making you come before. I mean…I’m not sure how Ozzy would enjoy me fucking his wife, but he didn’t give a shit about how he took my piece of ass so”—he dismissively shrugs—“I guess I’m not going to give a shit about it.” His gaze falls down the length of my body. “And if anything, you were a really good fuck, Bay.”

My whole body burns at my bad—but necessary—decisions. The way he’s speaking to me as if I was so easy to toss away makes my chest ache. My stomach guts itself out as he looks down at me like we never had anything.

That it was all in my imagination.

The words he spoke.

The promise he offered.

The dreams he created and passed along. All of them are gone.

“I’m sorry,” I quake, because I don’t know what else to say. He’s too unsettled with how things unfolded, and he’s not going to want to hear it, but I need it said. No matter what I did and why, I need him to know I still give a shit about him.

“You might be,” he replies collectedly. “But I can guarantee you’re really going to be soon, McQueen. Wait until you see me without you.”

I already have, and I hate it.

Reeve gives me an ominous smirk before he turns to walk away, and I don’t stop him.

I’m cemented to my spot in sheer heartbreak, and nothing wants to work.

I’ve lost him.

And he’s never coming back.

FOURTEEN

bay

I gotsemi-comfortable for one fucking minute and everything around me decided it was enough time to throw me for another loop.

It’s my fault.

Everything is.

I should’ve kept my damn distance from the boys like I told myself to do a million times over so that, maybe, this blow wouldn’t hit as hard. This world isn’t for the weak of heart. There is no reason to trust anyone outside of South Shore.

No one.

Not even men who bring back your sisters unscathed, hand you keys to a house, and stock the damn fridge.

That night I was in your house to off your dad… that wasn’t Cairo in your house with me. It was your new husband. You pointed that shotgun right at his chest and pulled the fucking trigger.

I remember that night like it was yesterday.

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