Page 4 of Havoc
Spine to earth.
Open sky overhead and fresh air in my lungs.
A deep inhale.
A clear exhale.
I’m not that girl anymore. This time, I’ll fight with teeth and nails to make sure I never end up back there again.
My eyes flutter open, and I stare up at the clear sky.
Kimberly and Bryn moved out of the safe house yesterday, and I should probably be doing the same. If for no other reason than to put some distance between myself and the Twisted Kings. They might not be as outwardly evil as the Iron Sinners, but they’re far from innocent.
Unfortunately, I have nowhere else to go, and I can’t leave town until I figure out a way to rescue my father from the Iron Sinners and take Titan down once and for all.
Which means, for the time being, I’m stuck.
At least Reagan is a breath of fresh air, visiting almost every day and giving me someone to talk to now that the other girls are gone. We aren’t friends necessarily, but mutual trauma has a way of bonding people. And even if she’s married to a biker, something about her is trustworthy.
I push myself to sit and try to refocus. The point of coming outside to practice yoga was to clear my head, but all it’s done is muddle my thoughts. I’d take another shot at the punching bag in the garage, but after I nearly broke my hand on it last week, I opted for the less violent means of emptying my head today.
“Knock, knock.” Reagan’s cheery voice breezes from the patio, and I curse myself for being so lost in thought that I didn’t hear the back door slide open.
If it were someone else, I would have been vulnerable, and I can’t risk that right now.
“Sorry I’m late.” She smiles, walking over. “Bea’s school had a family breakfast this morning, and Jesse knows my weakness for pancakes. Especially with this little one already being so demanding.”
Reagan plants her hand on her stomach. She’s not showing yet, but the habit of cradling her belly is already kicking in. Everything from her cheeks to her eyes glows, and I force a smile, trying to be happy for her becauseI am happy for her.
It’s not her fault that pregnancy makes everything inside me recoil.
“Did Jessecome with you?”
Reagan nods, sending a loose tendril of blonde hair cascading over her cheek. “He’s unloading some groceries in the kitchen.”
“He didn’t have to do that.”
“He doesn’t mind.”
I frown. “There’s a store around the block. I can get my own food.”
“Well, now you don’t have to.” She sinks into one of the loungers and shrugs.
No matter how many times I tell Reagan that I don’t need her looking out for me, she refuses to listen. At first, it irritated me because I assumed it was pity from the fact that I’m still here. Or I thought it could have been curiosity after my less-than-pleasant run-in with Levi a few weeks ago. Or maybe she needed information for her husband’s club, so she was playing nice to figure out my motives.
It’s rare that people actually care.
But after the first time Reagan visited with Bea, I realized Reagan wasn’t playing games or digging for information. She’s caring, and she can’t help it. She’s genuine in a world where so few people are anymore.
I’d appreciate it if I didn’t also hate being someone’s project.
“I didn’t know you practiced yoga.” Reagan glances at the mat.
“It’s been a while since I’ve tried, so I’m a bit rusty.” I climb to my feet and slip my shirt over my sports bra when Reagan’s gaze lands on the large scar that cutsacross my stomach. “I thought maybe it would help me find my center, but no such luck.”
“How very Zen of you.”
I force a smile.Zenis the last thing I feel when I do anything, even yoga. I don’t see peace; I see a target. A mission. Blood I’m going to spill as soon as I get the chance.
