No, I don’t.
I’m weary to the marrow on my bones, and my brain feels like it was scrambled and shoved back in my skull. Like I’ve been torn apart and glued together incorrectly. I’m conflicted and sad and angry and…everything all at once. Yet somehow numb after Havoc made it clear it would be better for us if we returned to being cordial acquaintances.
And he said it without saying a word.
His actions spoke volumes.
He’s not even driving me home. Faith is, and that alone is a slap in my face.
“I’m scared.” I grab her hands and cling to her like a lifeline.
“But you’re safe now,” Faith reminds me. “Malice will get that twat, and the Order will wipe her off the face of the fucking planet.”
I nod, my hair tumbling over my face. I release Faith’s hands and shove my hair away as I pace the spacious living room. “No, it’s not that. It’s…” I stop and face my best friend. “Everything was simple on that mountain. It was quiet. All of this”—I twirl my finger in the air—“was gone for a little while. It was…peaceful.”
Faith’s eyes narrow on me, and I can tell what she’s thinking. “And…”
“And your matchmaking efforts worked, thank you very much.” I pinch the bridge of my nose to stave off the headache blooming behind my eyes. “Because I need this complication in my life.”
“What’s the complication? You two are the perfect complement for each other.”
“Really?” My eyebrows shoot up at her absurd remark. “Because have you met us? Last I looked, he’s too…him, and I’m too…me, and while I lov—like—who he is, he’s too stubborn to accept that I don’t give a crap about his past or what he does for a living.”
“I heard the wordlovethere, babe.” Faith jabs a finger at me. “I knew you’d fall in love with him. I’m never wrong.”
“Look at where your matchmaking got me.” I gesture around the living room. “Havoc left as soon as we got here. He gave me a peck on the lips and—whoosh—right out the door.”
“Because he’s terrified of catching feelings for someone.” Faith plants her hand on her hip. “Look, I may have missed a huge chunk of years with Havoc, but I know him, Kerri, better than most people. That he’s not here to see you off speaks volumes.”
“Please, enlighten me,” I drawl.
Faith’s expression is so conspiratorial it’s comical. “That man adores you.”
“Yeah, okay.” I snort out a laugh. “Anyway, thank you for lending me your clothes. Before he left, Havoc grabbed the suitcase and grumbled something about giving it to Jester before he stormed out of here.”
“See?” She throws her hands up in exasperation. “He’s crazy about you. Why else would he be all piss and vinegar and not even be able to drive you home himself?”
“Because he’sHavoc, Faith. He’s always grumpy. He even told me this himself. And,” I add, “he absolutely despises Brighton.”
Laughing, Faith hooks an arm around me and squeezes. “Girl, trust me, this grumpiness has your name all over it.” She slides a grin my way, and it’s so devious I have to roll my eyes. “And for you, that man would walk through hell.”
Hell, sure.
But Brighton?
Never.
17
KERRI
Brighton is everything shiny and clean. The dichotomy of Mayhem’s crude and hedonistic charm. Here, expensive cars line pristine streets. Storefronts are immaculate, with designer items proudly displayed behind polished windows. McMansions sit alongsideactualestates in gated communities worth more than most of the entire decayed towns surrounding the city. The extravagance is appalling, with pompous people going about their lavish lives as if the world outside this perfect bubble isn’t buried in blood and debris.
No wonder Havoc hates it here.
I hate it here, too.
Even the clean air smells foul to me, and when we pull up to the hospital, Faith asks me if I need her to come inside with me. Unable to find my voice, even saying goodbye to her takes effort, the words a broken whisper.
