“I tried to tell him that you’d be mad. That you’d find out.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he barks.
My teeth clench. “You expected me to trust you?”
“More than him,” he growls through gritted teeth. Running his hand through his hair, he knocks off the excess water and sighs heavily. “So you’re saying you’ve had contact with him this entire time?”
“No.” I shake my head. “Not at all. He said I’d receive my initiations on it.”
His eyes snap to mine. “I told you; you wouldn’t have an initiation.”
“My father said you wanted me to fail.”
“Why the fuck would I want you to fail?” he shouts. “Goddammit, Lake.” His chest is heaving, his abs flexing.
I get even more nervous when he begins to pace the large room. “What was I supposed to believe?” I whisper.
“Tell me,” he demands, “what else did he say?”
“Nothing,” I answer hoarsely.
“Lake.” His voice sends a shiver down my spine. It commands an answer, and he’s not going to repeat himself.
“He told me I was a disgrace.” Tears start to sting my eyes, unable to meet his. “That the Minson name would have been better off if I had been the one to die.” I wipe my clammy hands on my bare thighs. “I just wanted to do something right for once.”
“Lake.” He sighs my name.
I sniff. “But I even fucked that up.”
“What did you do?” He sits on the edge of the bed, his hand coming up and pushing my hair off my face, but I keep my eyes on the comforter.
“I forgot about it. Or maybe I wanted to avoid it.” I’ve been trying to figure out how I could forget something so important. Maybe my mind chose to forget about it because I’ve known that Tyson was the side I needed to choose. “I remembered the night of the fight. I had checked it right before my shift started, and it was dead. So I used Starla’s charger just long enough to get it to come on.” I swallow nervously.
“And?” he asks softly, taking my hand in his.
“It had pictures.”
His hand tightens on mine. “What kind of pictures?”
“Of me and you at the party at the house of Lords. Then pictures of me the day that I went out and had my hair done and bought my car.”
“No texts or calls?”
“No,” I answer, and he lets go of me to stand. “Why would they call or text me?”
“They don’t send pictures for initiation, Lake.”
“How am I supposed to know that?”
“Because I told you that you didn’t have to do one,” he responds tightly.
“Every Lady has to—”
“You’re not every fucking Lady,” he shouts, interrupting me.
“Why am I special?” I yank my hand from his and stand from the bed. “Huh? What have I done that warrants me a pass?”
His jaw clenches, and he looks away from me, refusing to tell me anything, and I let out a snort. “That right there is why I didn’t believe you to begin with because you never tell me anything.”
