Page 154 of Composed
Lead settles in my gut.
I kind of thought things were getting better, that the guys were letting me in more. But the way Saint is watching me makes me wonder if everything I’ve thought to be true is just a fantasy I’m trying to force into reality.
“Right.” My legs are heavy as I walk backwards. “I’ll just… Go.”
I spin and stumble over my laces.
My cheeks flare, but I don’t look back as I scurry down the hall.
“Rix, wait—”
“I’ll see you later.” I wave a hand over my shoulder and drag the steel door open.
It slams shut behind me.
I sprint down the stairs, eyes burning.
I don’t even know why. It’s not as if I didn’t know they had a whole life without me. I’m the one who walked away from them and gave it all up.
Still, knowing is one thing.
Seeing it with my own eyes?
Like a fucking whip to the face.
My feet carry me all the way down without thought, heading straight for the exit.
I force myself to halt when I reach the ground floor.
Isn’t this exactly why I’m on the other side of that door? Because I ran ten years ago?
If I run again, I can kiss goodbye to all of them forever.
I can kiss goodbye toColeand everything we could be.
If I run now, I don’t know that I’ll ever stop running.
My lungs batter my ribcage.
I dart my gaze between the front door and the stairs.
I heave in a ragged breath, and do the only thing I know how.
Chapter forty-eight
Hendrix • Then
Therapy – All Time Low
Twenty Years Old
Ishovethroughthethrongs of people filling the lounge.
Metallica shreds through the speakers and lights flicker overhead, bouncing off the walls. I scan the room, but I can't spot Theo or the guys anywhere in the mass of huddled bodies.
It was supposed to be just the six of us hanging out tonight—a last hurrah before the guys shuttle off to Europe on a two-month tour—but somehow, word got out about a gathering, and now everyone we’ve ever known is crammed into Saint’s house.
Thick smoke chokes the air when I cut through the kitchen and out to the back garden.
