“He told us about what you saw and why you lied, and I… well, I get why you did it. Lionel put you both in impossible situations, and regardless of what either of you did as little fucking kids, you would never be on the winning side. You two were always going to be pitted against one another. Lionel made sure of that, and I don’t think there’s a reality in which you and Dread don’t suffer because of it.”
The icy air sinks beneath my coat, so I cross my arms. It feels more like protecting myself from his words than the wind.
“I understand Dread’s pain, and I understand why you guys helped, but that doesn’t mean it’s easy to accept when I never deserved to be the bearer of his agony,” I say quietly.
He nods thoughtfully. “Truthfully, I think shouldering theweight of all the deaths that came after is torture enough, and I don’t think you need our help with making you more miserable.”
I scoff bitterly. No truer words have ever been spoken.
“Listen, I don’t know shit about what’s happening between you two right now, but what I do know is he’s fucking obsessed with you and will never let you go. You’re it for him, and Severen and I have known that since we were twelve.”
I scoff. “You’re acting like he's in love with me. The only reason he tolerates me now is because…” My face twists, feeling awkward as I say, “Well, because he's a typical man who likes sex.” I cringe as the words come out of my mouth.
Rogue smirks. “He hasn't been with as many women as you probably think he has, and there's a reason for that. There's also a reason they've all been blondes.” He pointedly glances at my hair, and my stomach twists.
He puts a hand to his chest. “Take it from me, a self-appointed connoisseur of conducting pussy drive-bys.” I roll my eyes so deeply, they almost get lost in my head. “I've never selected women based on a shared feature. That type of need goes far beyond just wanting to get your dick wet. No matter his reasoning, that man has given you more dedication than the fucking Olympics. Which is exactly why Coach eats his pain for breakfast at practice, because he knows even when Dread is in the water, his mind is always on you.”
Rolling my lips, I stare off into the distance while I try to process that. At this moment, it’s impossible to fully know what to think, though I feel plenty, especially from the coke-addicted butterflies in my stomach and my racing heart.
All I know is whatever Dread feels for me, it will never be love.
He proved that when he used me to lure out my father without a second thought.
Maybe he’s obsessed, and maybe he loves fucking me, but I refuse to live the rest of my life being whittled down to an instrument for his own amusement.
If I’m the little violin, then he’s nothing more than a man with a natural talent for plucking my strings. But he’s no prodigy willing to give up his life to devote himself to me, and I deserve more than to collect dust until he gets the urge to stroke me again.
Blowing out a weary breath, I return my attention to Rogue. “Fine,I’ll keep Sable’s instruments away from your balls.” I hold up a pointer finger, though it doesn’t deter his relieved smile. “But. I cannot, nor will I, help you if you deliberately piss her off or do some shit that calls for her retaliation. As long as you’re a good boy, I’ll make sure she stays a good girl.”
The amused twinkle in Rogue’s eyes returns with a vengeance. Just as I wonder if I’m making a mistake, he drops to his knees on the cement sidewalk and holds his hands together in a prayer position.
“Reverie Adams, I humbly ask for your forgiveness for all the fuckery I’ve bestowed upon your life. I shall neverdeliberatelyupset a hair on your head again for as long as Dread allows me to live.”
I loathe how hard I have to fight back a smile. “You’re doing all this because you’re that scared of Sable? More than Dread?”
His face drops into an exasperated look. “Andbecause I don’t think you’re entirely undeserving of an apology.” He pauses for a beat. “But also, yes, she’s fucking terrifying, but if you ever tell her I said so, I’ll deny it.” Another beat passes. “And then run.”
I give up the fight and let a small grin free. “You’re forgiven,” I mutter, waving my hand. “Now get off the ground before I’m tempted to record and blackmail you.”
With a chuckle, he gets to his feet. “Can't say I wouldn't be entirely undeserving.”
He towers above me, only an inch shy of Dread’s height. He’s as packed with muscle, but his demeanor is significantly less intimidating when his goofy expression is a permanent fixture on his face.
“Lead the way, my knight in shining armor,” he beckons loudly like an arrogant superhero, dramatically waving his hand out before him. “We have a dragon to tame.”
I sigh.
I have so many regrets already.
“Sable, for the eighteenth time, put the butter knife down,” I lecture dryly.
We met for lunch at Big Papa’s Lounge, a mom-and-pop diner with the best food in a hundred-mile radius. Thankfully, only locals know about this tucked-away diamond in the rough, and the owners are morethan happy with that.
They know they could possibly become well-known, potentially famous, but neither of them want to deal with it. The locals keep them comfortable, and they prefer their simpler lifestyle.
However, it was definitely a mistake bringing Rogue here—not that I had much of a choice, but I could’ve rescheduled with Sable and spared her the very real possibility of bursting a blood vessel.
Neither has revealed anything about that night yet, but I feel slightly assured the only one who’s showing any semblance of fear is Rogue. Sable, on the other hand, might as well be spitting fire.
