Page 113 of Ruptured
She’d listened to Christopher bargain on many occasions, so she purposely didn’t start with days. Now, she jumped at the chance. “One hundred twenty.”
“Ninety,” Christopher returned.
Meggie smiled. “Deal.”
“You fuckin’ played me.”
“Nope, my love.” He’d wanted to best her and was still too angry to even think about what he threw out. “You played yourself.”
March 3rd
CJ sat in the room with Mom, Reb, and Mattie, bored out ofhis fucking head. There were only so many mobile games to play and so much hospital food he could endure. Since finding out Rule was taken out-of-state, his little sister wouldn’t smile and she barely talked. Mainly, she cried.
Rule had broken her heart. CJ worried their brother had also broken her spirit.
Scrubbing a hand over his face, he shifted on the window seat. He’d refused to go to school today like Dad ordered. He wouldn’t concentrate worth a shit, so why bother.
CJ couldn’t endure much more beforeheneeded a mental evaluation. He wanted to cry and kill and scream.
He wanted to fuckingrage.
Nostrils flaring, he stood, feeling as if he’d jump out of his skin.
The door opened before he escaped to any place other than a room where his mother, sister, and cousin languished so silent and sad. Usually, they lit up any room, whether it overflowed with people or was mostly empty.
A throat cleared. CJ focused enough to see Kaia Riggs standing just inside the door, holding a bouquet of flowers.
CJ narrowed his eyes and pointed to the door. “Out.”
Earlier, Diesel took CJ aside and claimed Kaia hooked up with Fia. If it got back to Rebel, that would be one more thing to devastate her, rumor or not. She didn’t need more betrayal and heartache.
CJ was madder than a motherfucker at Kaia for a variety of reasons.
One, the motherfucker lost his fucking brain cells, spouting fucking nonsense.
Two, fuckface had absolutely no fucking sense of survival. Three, that miserable poetry he spouted.
Four, CJ offered that braindead motherfucker money, which Kaia declined then didn’t have fucking bank to pay for his date with Rebel.
Five, that fucked-up poetry. He didn’t need a motherfucking brain ifthatwas what the fuck it thought up.
Six, he wanted to fucking spend the evening watching ‘SpongeBob’ and kissing Rebel.
Seven, eight, nine, and ten, that motherfucking poetry that Rebel thought was goddamn deep.
Eleven, if he wanted to fuck, he should’ve chosen a girl unconnected to the fucking club.
Twelve…
“Kaia?” For the first time in hours, Rebel spoke. She raised her bed into a sitting position. “Hey.”
CJ scowled, wishing he’d dragged that motherfucker out, instead of losing himself in anger. If Kaia had slept with Fia, the punches CJ had delivered the day after Kaia and Rebel’s date wasn’t enough. He needed fucking stomping.
“Just the person I wanted to talk to,” Mom said.
Mattie sat in the rocking chair between Mom and Rebel’s beds. She waved at Kaia, then returned to her eBook.
Kaia shifted the bouquet of flowers and glanced at CJ.
