Page 36 of The Devils They Are

The urge to punch something is consuming me so I head down the stairs, taking a sharp right until I end up in the gym. Bypassing the weights, I go straight for the punching bag, not even bothering to glove up before I swing and punch it square in the middle.

My fists rain down on the hard bag, one after another, until I'm panting with bright pink knuckles. My skin screams to stop, but it's nothing compared to the feeling of euphoria that creeps through my body, relishing in the pain.

I keep hitting, until eventually, my knuckles split, and little droplets of blood drip down my hands. Only then do I finally stop, dropping to the ground with my head in my hands.

I hate that I'm in this position. And like Dad, I blame myself too.

When news broke about the fire at Cedar, I didn't stop and consider for a single second that it would mean sharing our school. But even when Dad and Marcus were forced to accommodate the Cedar students, I felt nothing but joy.

Joy in the prospect of tormenting them. Taking our rivalry to another level, to truly show the kind of power we had at our school.

But fucking Bexley Spencer decided to be difficult.

I never expected her to just give in, to accept the situation, but I also never expected to be betrayed by my own.

Recovering from that embarrassing situation with the shorts, that was easy. We all do dumb shit. It's partly my own fault for not packing trunks. But it was the fact that Bexley went after all of us and succeeded.

Hunter's should have stayed under wraps, but Tai has already in the past expressed concerns that the security system at Willowbrook could be tighter. Yet, when Cedar invaded our space, we didn't stop and consider that we should circle back to that issue.

They are pathetic, worthless. How could any of them have any experience in hacking or breaking into systems? I guess we should have known better. After all, they are more likely to be criminals than we are.

Even Tai's attack, that should have been easy to conceal. But prying ears and our lack of awareness got the better of us. We were pissed, distracted, and of course, people heard—not hard when T was yelling about dick pics to the entire quad.

That showdown in the courtyard should have ended differently. But there's no way we'd be able to explain an all-out brawl. The rules are simple—keep it to the warehouse.

My breathing finally starts to regulate when I hear footsteps come into the room. I glance up, face deadpanning at the figure by the door.

"What the hell are you doing here, Liv?" I ask, exasperated.

She twirls her hair, leaning against the doorjamb. "I missed you after school today. I thought we could hang."

I regret that one drunken night a few weeks ago where I accidentally blurted the access code out loud when bringing her here. Now, she tends to turn up at the worst possible times.

Normally, I'd be all for a bit of stress relief, but my mind is stuck on another woman, and I'm too angry to deal with this.

"Now's not a good time," I grunt back, pushing to my feet and turning away from her. God, I'd kill for my AirPods right now. Because I know she's going to fight tooth and nail on this.

"But babe," she whines, walking toward me. "I came all this way. Come on, you don't even need to do anything."

Her hands run up my back, and she takes my tensing muscles to mean something else. I don't want to be touched right now, but Liv doesn't understand personal boundaries. To her, she thinks my body is reacting to her touch in a lustful way, shivering in anticipation. Wrong. I'm recoiling, desperate for her to read the damn fucking room.

Spinning around, I grab her wrist when she claws my shoulder, jerking her arm away. Liv blinks, confused, and I lean down toward her.

Little breaths catch in her throat as her eyes blow wide in excitement. And for a moment, I almost feel bad for the incoming rejection. But she needs to learn the wordno.

Ever since we were toddlers and our families met, Liv has struggled to be anything except the center of attention. Don't get me wrong, I love a confident woman, but there's a time and a place… and that doesn't include stalking and breaking into houses.

"No," I say sternly, letting her see just how serious I am.

"Why not?" she pouts, unbothered by my grip on her arm. "I don't care about the video—"

I rip my arm back, taking a step back as her mouth gapes open. "Shut up about the video, Olivia."

Liv lets out a little annoyed huff. "Honestly, Rylan, you're being ridiculous. Don't let that Cedar trash get to you."

"I'm not," I bite back. "But I still don't want to fuck right now."

"We don't have to," she offers, jutting out her hip. "I'll blow you."

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