Page 73 of Things I Wish I Said
I rear back again, but this time the hands are on my face. Sinclair is in my line of vision, her eyes as soft as her touch. “Grayson, stop.” Her voice is thick, on the verge of tears.
I swallow and drop my arm.
She nods. “Good. Come on.”
I pull in a shallow breath, the air rasping in and out of my lungs as I come back down to earth.
I stare at her, reassuring myself she’s okay before I stand.
The beat of my pulse fills my ears as I glance down at Dustin’s bloodied face.
He groans, trying to roll over.
I take a step back, glancing around us wildly. “Bridgette . . .?”
“She left,” Ryleigh says. “Took off when you started fighting.”
Spinning around, I come face-to-face with a slack-jawed Cameron. Apparently, we had an audience.
“You were fine two seconds ago,” he starts. “I went to get Trent for backup, and . . .”
Beside him, Trent gapes as he stares down at the damage I’ve caused. “Are you fucking crazy?”
“Probably.” I laugh, the sound manic.
Dustin groans, his voice a strangled rasp as he says, “You’re fucking finished, De Leon.” He spits at my feet, a spray of blood coating my shoes.
Cameron grips my arm and steers me to the doors while Ryleigh follows. “You better take Ryleigh and get out of here. Now.”
I swallow, understanding the warning both he and Dustin have given me. All it’ll take is a phone call and Dustin will sick his dogs on me.
We step out into the humid night air and make our way through the backyard toward my car. Now that the worst of the adrenaline has passed, I realize exactly what I’ve done.
I beat the shit out of Dustin Fields.
And there will be hell to pay.
Chapter seventeen
GRAYSON
My whole body shakesas I drive, needing an outlet for the leftover adrenaline coursing through my veins. On the outside, I’m calm, but on the inside, I’m freaking the fuck out.
I never should’ve gotten involved with Dustin, but buying some weed and hanging with his crew here and there seemed harmless enough. We’d gotten in trouble a couple times, but I stayed detached, kept just enough distance between my world and his to never really have an issue. I never crossed that line.
But today, I fucking obliterated it.
I stop at a red light and curse, slamming my hands on the steering wheel.
Beside me, Ryleigh jumps, and I hate myself for scaring her when she’s already been through enough.
I glance over at her. She’s shaking like a leaf, trembling, confirming I’m the world’s biggest asshole.
All of this is my fault, every bit of it.
Had I not lost my head and groped her on the dance floor, I never would’ve left her.
Had I not bailed on her, she never would’ve been alone.
