The free weights clink as I set them down. I’ve watched trashy tv. I’ve raided the fridge looking for junk that isn’t there. I’ve explored every inch of this place… and found an obscene amount of hidden weapons. Trust me, I thought about using one on Johnny, but tempting as it is, I can’t do it. So, I just re-hid them in new spots to hopefully make him think he’s going crazy. Or at least crazier than he already is.
I pick the weights back up and start my next set. Sweat runs down the back of my neck, soaking into my borrowed t-shirt. I’m definitely going to have to figure out a clothing situation. As much as I’m sure Johnny would love to keep me in his clothes, that’s not going to work for me.
I spend the next thirty minutes running through a familiar strength routine. The exercise feels good and helps calm my racing mind. So much has happened in such a short amount of time. I can barely keep up.
Halfway through my last exercise, I look up in the mirror to find Johnny’s reflection staring back at me. He’s leaned against the gym doorway, looking fine as hell in a perfectly fitted suit. The top buttons are undone at his collar, and the way those pants hug his thighs should be illegal. I swallow and finish my set.
“Can I help you?” I ask, setting down the dumbbells andlooking over my shoulder.
He smirks and it’s infuriating.
“You can help me with many things...”
I roll my eyes.
“But right now, I want to talk.”
I warily gesture to the empty weight bench beside me. He comes and takes a seat. He stares ahead, seemingly gathering his thoughts, so I take the opportunity to study him. He’s so different, and yet, still the same. His once buzzed hair is now longer and styled. His nose ring is gone. His features are still sharp, but somehow feel more dangerous. He’s grown up. But haven’t we all?
Finally, he turns to me.
“You remember the last thing we said to each other?”
I narrow my eyes, before quickly fixing my mask back in place. So, we’re doingthisright now…
“How could I forget?” I deadpan. “You accused me of killing your mother and then told my dad that I had sex with Axel and was in a relationship with both him and Nik. Oh, and you called me a whore.”
Yep. That about sums it up.
He cringes. “Yes, well, I wanted to apologize.”
I stare him down. “I don’t believe you.”
“What?” He looks at me funny.
“I said, I don’t believe you. I don’t think this is an apology at all. In fact, I don’t think you care about the pain you caused me.”
His jaw clenches. “My mother had just died. Everyone I loved had been put in danger—”
“You don’t get to use the past to play the victim,” I snap. “Not when you made damn sure I was the one left bleeding.”
He falters. Finally.
“I’m not trying to manipulate you—”
“Bullshit,” I bite out. “You want to talk about our last conversation? You didn’t just hurt me, Johnny. Youbrokeme. And now you want to waltz in here, play the regret card, and act like that somehow wipes the slate clean?”
He exhales, like he’s holding back a storm. “I’m trying to fix it.”
“No,” I say, leaning toward him. “You’re trying torewriteit. But I haven’t forgotten who you really are.”
I reach under the bench without breaking eye contact. My fingers close around cool metal. One ofhisknives. I flick it open, slow and deliberate, and in one fluid motion, press it to his throat. He freezes.
“You think I forgot what you’re capable of?” I whisper. “I didn’t. But you don’t know whatI’mcapable of now.”
His pulse thrums against the blade, but he doesn’t move. He just watches me. No fear. No smirk. Just stillness. And maybe, for the first time since I got here, a flicker of something real behind his eyes.
Regret.
