Page 94 of The Devils They Are

"I did initially obtain information to hold an advantage over you," I admit. "But then I got to know you. After that, it became a matter of caring."

"You don't care," she points out weakly. "You just need to know everything. We're exactly the same."

I cock my eyebrow at her. "We are similar. Which is why you know that's bullshit."

"It doesn't matter what I know." Bexley sighs. "We keep finding ourselves in this position. It's wrong, Rylan. People are going to get hurt."

"Then we make sure they don't," I argue back. "I'll talk to Hunter and straighten this out."

Finally, her eyes snap to mine. I'm relieved to see some anger staring back at me. At least I know she's not broken because of him.

"There's nothing to straighten out. He's your friend. You can't fix this with him. I'm the enemy. He even said it—that I'm trying to come between you."

I shove Bexley against the wall, boxing her in with my arms. She lets out a tiny whine as her sore body hits the cold wall, but I barely register it. "I make my own goddamn choices, Bexley. I don't need anyone dictating what I do or who I fuck. You're mine now. You have been all along. This ridiculous feud means nothing to me. If you want to slap a label on us, sure, call us enemies." I lean forward, brushing our noses together. "But this body is mine. And I'm not going to just give that up because my friends decide that you're off-limits."

Her eyes flash back at me—a mix of anger and defiance. "I'm not yours, Rylan. And it's not just your friends. It's your father too. Your legacy, your leadership. I'm a nuclear bomb that could destroy everything."

Shaking my head, I grip her chin with my fingers. "And I'm a fucking grenade that could detonate at any second. But you're the only person who gets me—really fucking getsme. Not the leader, not the legacy… just me."

I feel her body relax against mine, that anger dissipating with my words. She looks like she wants to say something back, but she fights it, biting her tongue.

Finally, she just sighs quietly, tilting her head back, unfazed that I'm still caging her in and holding her face. "I need to get ready. I'm heading to the bathroom, then heading home."

"Fine," I concede, stepping back. "But I'm coming with you."

Chapter thirty-four

Bexley

Tomysurpriseandastonishment, when we arrive at the Ridgeview Valley Gardens, I'm taken aback by the number of people waiting.

In my mind, I knew I should have fought Rylan on his demand to come with me, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. But now, seeing the Cedar Heights crowd, I can't help but wonder if I've made a mistake.

He followed me home after we left the warehouse, and when I was ready to leave, he insisted on driving me, stating I'd be in no position to drive myself. As much as I wanted to refuse, I gave into the uncomfortable feelings and let him take charge. Today of all days, I need to not be in control.

When we arrive, I can't stop the emotions from flowing at the group of people, standing next to the gravesite for support. Arch is front and center, and while others give Rylan a weird look, he just smiles.

Thankfully, no one says anything. Mills rushes forward to pull me into a hug, and out of the corner of my eye, I spot Steele sporting some matching bruises. He looks worse for wear like me, but he gives me a tight smile, gaze flickering to the tall man next to me. There's a flash of confusion, anger, and resignation, but he gives me a little nod.

"How are you feeling?" Arch asks quietly.

"I'm okay," I reply, tugging on my black dress nervously.

It's one of those old pieces of clothing that stay buried in the back of the wardrobe, only breaking out for unique occasions. I didn't bother with my makeup and the best I could manage with my hair was to chuck it into a bun to hide the knots.

My face is still blotchy and red from crying, but after the beating I took last night and the fact I'm at a funeral, no one knows the truth.

I don't know where to go from here. After briefly giving Rylan the rundown of Hunter's antics last night, I was ready for him to be indifferent. But he still insisted on accompanying me.

He's a master of disguising emotions, and he's doing a great job at hiding it, but I can't help but wonder what the fallout will be for this. Who will be the victim? The three guys go way back—I'm just the archnemesis who sometimes bangs him. But even though he's masking his true feelings, I catch little glimpses of anger when he thinks I'm not paying attention. It's obvious it's directed toward Hunter, and I just know there will be further consequences to pay.

Mr. Morrison is standing at the foot of the grave, holding a battered black book. It must be filled with so many memories from deceased folk, telling tales of livelihood and victories, detailing every milestone in a person's existence from birth to death.

I wonder if he remembers most funerals. Or if any have stuck with him.

This will probably be a fading blip on his radar. Sure, he might remember me for a few weeks—particularly as the girl who had a stranger step in to pay—but then life will move on, and I'll be in a dusty file somewhere.

Rylan gives Arch a sharp nod, offering his hand to both our surprise. Arch takes it, shaking it firmly. Before I can process the interaction, a car door slamming closed grabs our attention, and when I turn around to glance at the parking lot, my eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

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