Fucking friendship.
Something I thought I was twisting and manipulating into a fucking fairy tale. A happy ending that was never going to happen. Through the laughs, the small kisses, the touches that meant everything to me, has he ever cared for me as much as I’ve cared for him?
I told myself it was the way it was. I told myself that his love—whatever form it takes—had to be good enough. It just had to be enough. I didn’t need the rest…
Right?
But now I’ve had it. Now I know that it’s real. Now I want to cling to it with my dying breath.
Another punch. Another jab at my gut. Another tear that slides down my stinging cheek.
And then the world fades to black.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Skylar
Crap.
I hiss as the smoke billows over the pan. Turning the gas off, I try to swipe at the air, but it only takes a few seconds for the kitchen to be filled with smoke. The alarm goes off, and I nearly drop my pan in my haste to turn it off.
Fuck me, I just wanted to make Cassius some dinner.
Breakfast as dinner is his all-time favorite, so my plan was to prepare scrambled eggs, pancakes, hash browns, and toast. The toast went just fine, albeit a bit more toasty than when he does it, but still edible. The eggs are on the dryer side and the hash browns kind of look like hockey pucks, but I tried my best!
It’s these damn pancakes that are giving me a run for my money. How the hell does Cassius cook them without the batter immediately burning into the pan? It’s that weird kitchen magic I’m always saying he has. He’s justthatgood.
Or maybe I’m justthatbad?
Nah…
I hear the tell-tale sound of the deadbolts unlocking and quickly run to the window to air out the kitchen before Cassius can see what I’ve done. If I’m going to profess my undying lovefor him and ask him to be my “for real” boyfriend, I can’t have that in a smoky kitchen.
I barely get the window unlatched before I hear steps behind me. Plastering on my best puppy-dog eyes, I turn on my heels. “Cassy! I was just— What the actualfuck!”
All thoughts of my disastrous dinner go out the open window as I take in the sight before me. I’ve been scared many times before in my life, but I’ve never had my heart stop.
Not the way it does when I see Rhys and Knox carrying in a badly beaten Cassius.
Rhys and Knox each have an arm under each one of Cassius’s armpits, holding him up as he stumbles to walk. There are white bandages covering his entire torso, but deep purple blotches peek out from beneath the edges. His fists are disgustingly bloody and cracked. His face…
“Oh my God! What happened!” I shout, racing across the apartment to meet them at the door. “Cassius!”
It’s just now that Cassius tips his head up, and I’m allowed to see the full extent of the damage that’s been inflicted on him. There’s a deep, raging cut right under his left eye that looks like it’s been crudely stitched together. His nose has white tape over it and is obviously swollen. Just under his jaw is another angry red mark. I can already tell that in a few hours, his face is going to be unrecognizable.
“It’s not that bad,” Cassius croaks, even though when Rhys goes to adjust his grip on him, he cries out. “I got the money.”
“T-The what?” I stutter as the guys bring him over to the couch.
“This.” Knox raises a hand that does, in fact, hold a wad of cash. “Fucker risked his life for this.”
I eye the cash with wide eyes. I’m so confused and out of sorts. I can’t take in all the information being thrown at me while trying to focus on the fact that Cassius isfuckedup.
“Five grand.” Cassius lets out a hiss as he sits down.
“I told you it was a dumb idea to let him fight again,” Rhys snarls, narrowing his eyes at Knox.
Again? My heart starts to race and my stomach drops. The understanding dawns on me that this has been something going on behind my back. I start to sweat as my hands shake, and the itch to scratch my arms is strong.