I couldn’t. I just couldn’t.
I didn’t want to see those dead eyes of his trained on me, with no remorse, no feeling, nothing except a vacancy that would never be filled.
I couldn’t look at him. “I don’t want to see you.”
His voice came out low, “Blake—”
I raised my voice. “I don’t want to talk to you.”
“You’re angry.”
I whipped my head to his. “You’re goddamn right I am. I’mlivid, Creighton. I want you gone. I want silence from you.” Jesus. That blank gaze of his. No soul. Nothing. Just ... What did he have? An obsession with me? When would that go away? He’d never feel how I did, how Lassiter did, how Levi did. He’d never feel love. He wasn’t capable.
I drew in a ragged breath, and something broke inside of me. It fell, and I could feel it withering to nothing until I was back to being numb all over again.
I welcomed it. I couldn’t handle anything else right now.
I looked away. “You broke my rules.”
“Blake.”
The soft tone from him did nothing to me anymore.
“Leave.” One last look. He wasn’t the only one dead inside anymore. I let him see what he’d done to me. “I never want to see you again.”
His eyes flared, but he left.
Good.
I sat there, my hand reaching for Levi’s, and I was relieved.
I was also lying to myself.
Chapter Forty-Six
Creighton
“I don’t understand why we have to be here. With him.” Ashton Walden sent me a chilling glare before he turned that glare on his best friend. “What are we doing, Trace?”
Tristian West ignored Walden, bypassing him to give me a nod and indicating one of the chairs. We had decided to meet in one of Octavia’s basement rooms. Despite my cousin’s recent act and murder, the club was still considered the most neutral territory for us all.
I gave Walden a considering look as I chose one of the seats.
Walden skewered me, going to the farthest seat away from me. “What the fuck are you grinning at me about, Lane?” He raked a hand down his face, cursing under his breath, pinning West with another chilly look as West took a seat somewhat in the middle. “Anything we decide here is going to be bullshit. I put a gun to his girl’s head. No way is he going to let that slide.”
I leaned forward. “I’ll let it slide if you give me your sniper.”
Walden’s eyes widened, just barely before a wall slammed in place. “Fuck. Off.”
“Ashton,” West murmured, trying to convey some kind of message to him.
The two shared a look, communicating without words, until Walden cursed again under his breath and leaned back in his seat. He pulled out his phone and began typing on it.
West gave him a cursory look before facing me. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and read whatever was there before flicking an annoyed glance at Walden. His eyebrows pinched together. “Are you serious?”
Walden was back to glaring at him. “I said what I said.”
West heaved a loud sigh and again made a show of facing my way. “We agreed to meet at the table. This room is metaphorically the table. Before moving forward, we all need to agree on a few terms. One, is the war done? Two, are you planning repercussions for what happened in that warehouse?”
