Page 72 of The Final Deal

“Wait!” I call out. “Wait, please!”

“What the fuck is it?” Zak demands as he faces me. The color has drained from his face, slowly being replaced with a deep shade of red.

“I’m being forced to open a live venue to keep NYB going every day,” I explain breathlessly. “I didn’t say anything because I’ve been trying to find a way out of it?—”

“So that’s what happened at the bridge, huh?” Zak questions. “The big secret you refuse to tell us anything about.”

“I didn’t want to do this,” I insist tearfully, stomping my foot like a child. “He… he made me…”

“Just like he made you go to Atlanta after you cheated on me, huh?”

The realization strikes me so hard that my steps falter.

He doesn’t forgive me.

He never did.

“You lied.” Zak shakes his head and scoffs. “You’re nothing but a liar, a cheater, and the worst mistake I’ve ever fucking made.”

My heart breaks completely in half, falling down into the pit of my stomach and boiling in acid until all that’s left is the husk of a muscle that no longer holds a beat.

His eyes flash beyond me. “Pinche pendejo” he spits before spinning on his heel and storming toward the Hellcat.

Adrian wears the same heartbreak etched into his features as he stands there, staring at me. Despite the hurt, there isn’t a hint of anger beneath it.

I take a step toward him. “Hon, please—please believe me. I didn’t want this.”

When he moves closer to the car, the heartache worsens. “You should’ve said something.”

Hot tears stream down my face as Adrian gets inside the Hellcat. They peel out and zoom away without me.

I crouch low to the asphalt with hands covering my eyes until my chin touches my knees.

They hate me.

All I wanted was to save them, and it’s only made me lose them.

Someone spits behind me. “Get up.”

“Fuck you!” I scream at the sky.

I’m kicked forward, a foot landing square in the middle of my back and shoving me to the ground. I catch it with my face and shoulder; my flesh peels in strips off my brow and cheeks. I cry out in shock from the searing abrasion marring my skin.

“I said get up,” Ty yells. “Or else I’m returning the beatdown.”

Slowly, I push myself up and face him. Blood dries on his lips and chin, and fresh droplets line his upper lip. He snatches his shirt off, revealing his pale torso and 1996 tattooed in black across his lower abdomen in a traditional font, and drags it over his face.

He throws his keys at me. “Drive.”

I let them drop to the ground. “Fuck you.”

“I’m all you’ve got, so I suggest you shut your fucking mouth and drive.”

Seething, I bare my teeth at him like a feral animal. “I’m going to fucking kill you.”

His grin is bloody. “I told you I was gonna be your worst nightmare.” He points behind me. “Now get into the Jeep and drive, bitch.”

“Why?”

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