Page 99 of The Devils They Are

Rylan folds his arms, eyes glued to the pacing ball of energy. "He won't find out. But we need all the help we can get. Bexley knows Cedar Heights better than anyone. That insider information will come in handy."

I can see the moment that Hunter begrudgingly gives in, his eyes tightening and fists balling up. "Fine!" he snaps. "But I'm still not being friends with her. I don't care if her mother just died or that she has a mountain of daddy issues. If she gets in my way, I'll destroy her, regardless of your dick's needs."

Rylan smirks, shooting me a quick glance. "Trust me—if you were ever lucky enough to have her, you'd understand."

Shaking my head, I dig into my pocket for my car keys. "Well, this has been enlightening and all, but I have a study date with a certain Cedar Heights pain in the ass. We'll work out a plan. But for now, I better go before Spencer cuts off my head. Or Sophia. Those two together are a bit scary."

"About time," a voice snaps as I walk into the house.

My head turns to the side, finding Bexley sitting in my living room. Her crossed arms are tense as she glares at me, clearly annoyed that I'm late.

Damn. I honestly thought I'd beat them back. Don't girls take forever when shopping?

"Where's Soph?" I ask, ignoring the annoyed stare coming my way.

"Walking Calvin and Klein with Mary," she answers, standing up. "It's nearly dark and they were getting restless."

I snort. "And you didn't go with her?"

Bexley rolls her eyes. "I assumed you'd be back before now so we can sort out the project. It's due this week."

Cringing, I fight back the bile that threatens to rise. How the hell can mathematics cause such a visceral response to my body?

"I'm here now," I sigh. "Let's get this over with."

Waggling my finger at her, I motion to follow as I head for the stairs. Her soft footsteps echo behind me and when I enter my bedroom, I hold the door for her, closing it behind us.

Bexley grabs the spare chair, pulling it to the desk. She sits down and digs into her bag, pulling out a notebook and the project paperwork.

I sit down across from her, reaching for a pen before I can chicken out.

My eyes stay trained to her face, watching her expressions as she focuses on setting up. It's quite remarkable how different she is from Saturday. I expected her to be a sappy mess—especially after hearing that Hunter fucked around with her after the fights. But to her credit, no one would be able to tell. It's as if she's locked everything away, straight back into that leader mode she portrays constantly.

Now I get it. Rylan being exhausted and fed up with everything, I can only imagine what goes on in that brain of hers. We underestimated her, but perhaps Rylan is right—we need her.

"I'm sorry," I quickly say before I can change my mind. "For your loss."

Bexley pauses, lifting her head slightly to meet my gaze. "Thank you." She stills, eyebrows furrowing. "And thanks for being there on Saturday with Soph."

I nod, grabbing the project paper. "Alright. The sooner we can get this finished, the better. Let's begin."

Chapter thirty-six

Bexley

Afterfightingformylife running the track, I'm promptly reminded of my own mortality. It can't be normal to have such pathetic stamina when I'm meant to be at the prime of my life. I'm fairly sure that I'm one more lap away from going into cardiac arrest and pissing myself in front of the cheerleaders.

On the plus side, Soph equally struggles and if it wasn't for her helping hold me up afterwards, we'd both be on the ground mimicking grass angels. To be fair, I also held her up, which was a little embarrassing when Rylan jogged past, barely a hair out of place as he flaunted his cardio God-like abilities.

Shamefully, I did spend an unhealthy amount of time perving on his ass as he ran ahead. But what can I say? I appreciate good muscles.

Even the catcalls couldn't bring me down, which was surprising. Sunday had been a blur, but I didn't expect to suddenly feel so different this week.

I still ache for my mom, but knowing she's at rest now, free from her demons, makes it a little easier. I don't think it will ever stop hurting, and in my mind, I still one-hundred percent blame Dad. But she's free now and I cherish those last few days where for a split second in time, things were normal.

Maybe she knew something was wrong and that's why she won against the demons, her old self reemerging to make me feel seen. Still, too many questions linger that keep me up at night.

On my break, I call Dr. Lavings and book in for that annual check-up I'm due for. I'm also planning on bringing up Mom. I deserve answers—I need to know what went wrong that things ended so quickly. If Grey's Anatomy has taught me anything, it's that shit can hit the fan awfully fast. But in my mind, it doesn't make sense. But then again, I'm not a doctor. And at the end of the day, Mom would want me to live—to take the chances that she never got.

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