Page 59 of The Devils They Are

"What the hell is up with you today?" he snaps back in frustration, folding his arms. "If this is because of last night—"

"Don't!" I yell, cutting him off as I shake my head. "Just…don't." The last part comes out in a whisper because I no longer trust my voice not to crack and reveal my secrets. I can't have anyone knowing what happened, especially not him.

Rylan uncrosses his arms, bringing one up to the doorjamb as he leans forward. "Bex, talk to me," he says softly, the tone nearly unravelling me right then and there. "What happened at the hospital?"

"No," I respond quickly, clearing my throat. "I have nothing to say to you. And as far as I'm concerned, last night never happened."

His brows furrow, lips pursing as confusion and anger washes over his face. "I thought we were moving past all this animosity. Or was it all just a game to you? Some kind of ploy to fuck me over?"

I close my eyes, blocking him out of sight. Because truthfully, I don't want to admit that a part of me—a small part—wasstarting tolikehim. I had no regrets about last night until Sandra had to break my heart. I'm not sure where my mind was before that, but for the first time, peace looked a hell of a lot better if we had to co-exist in one school—a part of me even wondered if wecouldbe friends after I left his truck. But now, I can'tdo peacewhile violence is raging inside of me.

But that's okay. Anger is easy. I can hold onto that, wielding it like a shield. But devastation? Sadness? I run from those types of feelings. They only lead to trouble.

Finally, I open my eyes again, still finding him staring at me with sharp blue eyes. "Don't kid yourself, Rylan. And don't insult me. We both know that it was just a game for youtoo," I linger and emphasize the last word, trying to make a point. "You even said it yourself: 'We can go back to hating each other tomorrow'. It was just a moment of weakness, a means to an end. I had a need, and you were there to fulfill it."

His eyes flash, hurt reflecting back at me. But as quickly as it comes, it's replaced by burning hatred—and I know I'm on the right path. I cut him off again before he can respond.

"We're never going to befriends," I remark, spitting out the word like its poison. "A truce was never going to be a viable option. Let's just keep to ourselves until we're back at Cedar Heights and things return to normal."

"You're playing a dangerous fucking game, Bexley," he murmurs, voice dark and low. I know my words have hit a sore spot—just as I needed them too. "You're basically declaring war again."

I shrug lazily, still struggling to look him in the eye. "Then it's war time, Astor. Now, please leave. You're not wanted here."

Chapter twenty-one

Rylan

Whattheactualfuckis her problem?!

Everything was fine last night when I left her. But now, Bexley has done a complete one-eighty so fast that I don't even recognize the woman who just slammed the door closed in my face.

I shouldn't have gotten comfortable or complacent, regardless of the reasons. It was a grave mistake to think we could be anything more than enemies. I had it right the first time when I said that Bexley was a snake.

We should have broken her when we had the chance. My one regret is not pushing back harder. Instead of punishing her for the acts against us, I took my foot off the throttle and changed strategies. It's a grave mistake, one that now plagues me.

Still, I can't shake the feeling that there's something missing here.

The way her voice shook, the dimness in her eyes… something happened. But what?

In spite of the urge to bang down her door and demand answers, I turn on my heel and stalk back to my truck. There's the unshaking feeling that she's watching through the window, but I don't dare glance back at the cream house. If I see her watching, I'll likely smash open the door until she tells me the problem, or I fuck her through a glass window or wall support beam.

My pride has taken a beating. A small voice in my mind taunts me, telling me this is my own fault—exactly like my father had said. How the hell am I meant to know which decision is right when I have everyone telling me different things?Smooth it over, gain control, destroy them.You can't please everyone, and now that my plan has backfired in my face, I'll never hear the end of it from any of them.

Things should never have gotten this far. The whole purpose of our truce was to keep her at arm's length, but close enough to keep a watch on things. I was meant to smooth things over so that we'd resume control. I just never expected to enjoy her company.

But I did.

And even though it hasn't been long, I feel like I started to get to know the real Bexley Spencer—not the one who hides behind feelings of tenacity and unwavering strength.

Blasting my Spotify through the speakers, I slam my foot on the gas, peeling away from the curb with a squeal. People in their front yards tending to gardens glare at my truck with annoyance, but I pay them no attention. I only have one thing on my mind.

Thankfully, Dad isn't home. He's on the road, visiting the State Governor as part of his beloved, all important electoral duties.

When I reach my bedroom, I waste no time hitting call on my cell, waiting for Tai to pick up. He's the only one I can speak to about this that might be able to help, even if it means potentially getting chewed out.

I know he doesn't agree with my actions, but he's less likely to give me shit. Plus, I need his skills. Regardless of what has happened or my motives for this, it's in our best interests to work out what has Bexley in a twist. If something has happened, maybe I can push her to open up to me. But if she's just playing the long con, then I can use whatever we find as ammo to crush her.

"Hey, Ry," Tai's voice comes through loud and clear. "Missing me already?" He makes kissy noises, and I cringe with a laugh.

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