Page 88 of The Monster and the Last Blood Match

Beckham pulled his phone out of his pocket. That damn phone. The screen lit up his face, where fear lingered despite the fact that they were out of the club. Reyna didn’t know what Beckham could fear.

“Fuck,” he cursed. “No signal.”

Reyna groaned. Great. Just great. “I shouldn’t have come here.”

“Finally, something we can both agree on,” Beckham said stubbornly.

Reyna rolled her eyes and then glared at him. “How dare you even say that shit to me right now,” she spat, her voice cold and hard. “If you hadn’t wanted me to come, if you hadreallywanted Penelope all along, then this is your fault.”

“Itoldyou not to come. You insisted and boxed me into a corner.”

She shook her head. “No one bullies you. I’m your employee, remember? You tell me what to do.”

“Yeah, and right now I’m telling you to stop talking.”

“No,” she said, straightening. “I’m not finished. This entire thing was bullshit, and I’m over it. I cannot believe you drank from Penelope.”

“Reyna,” he said, his voice lethal.

“How could you do it?” she asked, almost desperate. “After the rooftop…and everything else. How?”

He ground his teeth and then looked away. “It’s complicated.”

“No, it’s not. You won’t drink from me, but you’ll drink from her? That’s not complicated. That’s bullshit.”

“We need to leave. We’ll talk about this later.”

“No, we’ll talk about it now. And we’ll start with this—I don’t want you to ever touch me again,” she growled. “You’re a liar, a cheat, and a coward.”

His eyes were steely as he stood taller and flashed his fangs at her. She tried not to show fear, but when he wanted to appear menacing, he was damn good at it. “I have been called many things before, Little One, but I amnocoward.”

Reyna held her ground. “A coward is a man torn between two women and leading them both on. So, I’ll make the decision easy for you. I will not be in the middle anymore. I want to go home.”

“Yeah, we’re about to leave. We’ll talk about this when we get there. We have to walk until we get a signal.”

“No,” Reyna spat. “I mean I want to gohome, to my brothers, to the Warehouse District.”

“What?” Beckham’s head snapped over to her, and he stared long and hard.

“You heard me. I’m done. I want to go home,” she told him more forcefully. “I want to get away from this world, this horrible, awful world.”

He clenched his jaw, breathed out harshly, and looked away from her. “We’ll talk about this when you calm down.”

“I’m not going to change my mind.”

“Right now, I don’t give a damn, Reyna. We’re locked out of the club in a dark abandoned tunnel after I ruined averyimportant business relationship for you. So forgive me if I don’t want to hear about you wanting to leave and go back home right now. You’ve proven to be more trouble than you’re worth,” he said, gesturing wildly, “and I want to get out of here. We can decide aboutyoulater. So, let’s go.”

He started down the tunnel, and with no other choice, she followed. Her numbness turned into full-on sickness at Beckham’s words. She had told him she wanted to leave, but she hadn’t expected that reaction. Why did she even want him to fight for her to stay? It wasn’t enough that he beat Roland up for touching her—that was just protecting his interests; this was him not caring one way or another whether she stayed or left. In fact, he had even said she was too much trouble. All while refusing to explain what the hell was happening between him and Penelope. And she couldn’t stand it any longer.

Reyna stumbled along in her heeled boots. Her feet were sore and it was cold in the tunnel, but she didn’t complain. She refused to let him see her pain.

“Do you smell that?” Beckham asked, turning his head up to the ceiling.

Reyna breathed in deeply. “I don’t smell anything.”

“Fuck. No. Not yet.”

Beckham picked up the pace, and she had to take long awkward strides to keep up.

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