Him.
“Kai?” Haven’s voice sounds like it’s coming from underwater. “Kai, are you okay?”
Am Iokay?
Am I fuckingokay?
I let out a laugh that sounds more like a sob. “I did that?” My voice is several octaves too high. Too shaky, too unsteady. “All of that?”
Rooke’s watching me with an unreadable look in his black eyes, his face still a fucking mess—tacky blood drying in the gouges Haven left, nose swelling, lip split.
Good.
Because fuck him and his motherfucking lies.
“You did,” Rooke says quietly, almost gently, which is worse than if he’d just openly fucking gloated.
“No.” I shake my head, backing up until my shoulders hit the cold granite wall. “No, that’s—you’re lying.” I tap a finger against my temple. “You’re fucking with my head again.”
Rooke sighs. “Kai?—”
“That’s what you do, right?” My laugh is unhinged. “You manipulate. You gaslight. You twist everything until people don’t know which way is up anymore.”
Rooke’s eyebrows draw together like he can’t believe how stupid I am. “Do you even know what gaslighting is? Because nothing I told you was?—”
“Fuck off with your fucking psychology lesson,Professor!” I’m shouting now, my voice bouncing off the granite walls.
I fist my hair, twisting until the pain makes me stop. My head hurts. My ears are ringing. I probably have a fucking concussion, but all I can think about is all the shit Rooke just unloaded on me like it’s nothing to him.
Haven’s just staring at me with those puppy dog eyes of hers. Silent.
Bastian’s jaw ticks, but it’s literally the only reaction he has. Even his voice is flat and emotionless. “I wasn’t?—“
“No!” I bark out, making both of them flinch. “You don’t get to—to just stand there and act like you’re so fucking calm and reasonable when you—when I?—“
I can’t say it out loud.
Because saying it makes it real, and if it’s real, then everything I knew about myself is a lie.
“Kai.” Haven steps toward me, her hand reaching out. “It’s okay. Whatever happened, it’s?—“
“It’s not okay!” I jerk away from her touch like it burns. “None of this is okay! He just told you I jerked him off like a—a?—”
The word catches in my throat.
Homo.
That’s what my dad would say. What every asshole in my high school locker room would say.
“Like what, boy?” Rooke’s voice drops dangerously low. “Go on. Say it.”
I clamp my mouth shut, breathing hard and fast through my nose until my nostrils are flaring as I scowl at him.
“You can’t even say it, can you?” He takes a step toward me, and I hate that I retreat. “You’re so terrified of what this makes you that you’d rather believe Iassaultedyou than accept the truth.”
I shake my head violently, making the room spin for a moment.
“I said shutup!”
