“I wouldn’t say he ghosted me,” I mutter. “I haven’t texted him, either.”
Sable doesn’t even look at me when she waves a dismissive hand, indicating that doesn’t count, and I roll my eyes at her. She should’ve been an investigative journalist.
“Is he still mad because the same man who victimized him also victimized her?”
Rogue tips his head back, closes his eyes, and inhales deeply, seeming to gather patience. I almost tell him not to bother. Sable is like a dog with a chew toy when she wants answers.
He drops his chin again. “I don’t know,” he says as he exhales. “The only thing I know is he wants to kill Lionel even more. We all do. But he’s been asking Severen and me for updates all week. I think half of him was anxious Lionel was going to show up while he’s gone.”
“And if my daddidshow up?” I cut in. “Is that something either of you are actually prepared to deal with?”
Rogue’s eyes darken as he meets my stare, something insidious and primal passing over them. “We’ve been waiting a decade to meet that man.”
Noted.
“Okay, so, what? He just needs tothink?” Sable pushes, flicking her palm out in a ‘that’s it?’ gesture. “He left her sitting there fucking naked and doesn’t even have the decency to say good morning in the week he’s gone?”
“Oh, my God,” I whisper, slapping a hand over my eyes as mortification burns my face. If I can’t see them, they can’t see me, right?
“I don’t know,” Rogue whines while I part my fingers and peek through them. “I guess so. Rev kinda dropped a bomb on him, so he’s probably just processing or some shit. Men don’t talk about our feelings with one another, you know that, right? And Dread is like a goddamn vault with emotions, anyway. I’m sure he’s just brooding.” He waves a flippant hand, waving off his friend and his very volatile emotions.
Sable’s not convinced.
I’m not convinced, either.
I’m so used to his hatred, anything other than that is jarring and, admittedly, something I don’t entirely trust.
Dread always has a motive.
Always.
I drop my hand, ready to change the subject, but Rogue goes on, the two of them practically acting as if I don’t exist.
Which I kind of wanted, but not when I’m the topic of conversation and still present.
“When she ran off to a hotel and disappeared on him for a week, he looked like he was going through heroin withdrawals. I’m pretty damn sure he’s going to come home and be right back up her asshole.”
Sable quirks a brow, glancing at me with a loaded look, which I promptly ignore. Instead, I allow my bangs to conceal my eyes as I stare at my empty plate.
I refuse to analyze anything he’s saying, refuse to even consider it could mean anything other than he misses making me miserable.
It doesn’t matter that we’ve had extremely intimate moments with one another’s genitalia or that he’s kissed me several times now andnone of them felt like anything less than worship.
Whatever those moments mean… they don’t matter.
He’s DreadfulSharpe, destined to hate my fucking guts. There will never be anything pure or loving between us. We will never have a happy ending.
Our agony is carved too deeply into the crevices between our bodies, and it will always keep us apart.
“Tell him to take his time coming home,” I say, keeping my tone casual. “I’m enjoying my peace.”
CHAPTER 27
REVERIE
My heart is no longer a working muscle but a pulverized slop of tissue, veins, and blood. It pounds against my rib cage even still, despite how it’s beaten itself to death.
I release a shaky breath and dip my toe in the aqua pool. A shudder works through my body from the gentle caress of cool water.
