Page 116 of Toxic Kiss

“Shut the fuck up, Cy,” Patrick bites out, his voice more heated than I’ve ever heard.

The smug smile on Cy’s face fades, and so does the laughter.

Something inside me snaps.

I shove Patrick’s hands away when he tries to help me, and instead, I get up on my own.

“I don’t need your pity,” I say, with a hard glare. “I can defend myself.”

My legs wobble, but I lock them in place.

I glare at Cyrus, and he stares back. I can taste chlorine, humiliation, and something bitter sitting at the back of my tongue. But when I speak, my voice is steady.

“Guess you’d know a lot about things that float,” I say, tilting my head. “You’ve been coasting your whole life on a raft of bullshit, propped up by that bloated ego, and the mother you hide behind.”

People go quiet. Some shift uncomfortably. But I hold his gaze for one more second. Then, I turn and walk out, ignoring Patrick’s calls for me to come back.

Even though every breath still hurts. Even though my chest feels like it may cave in. Even though I can still feel his hand around my ankle…I walk through the back door like I haven’t almost drowned.

Like, he hasn’t almost broken me.

Like, he never will.

I sit up with a gasp and look around, trying to figure out where I am. My fists have the comforter balled so hard that my fingers ache as I hold it to my chest.

Then it all comes back. The hotel. I’m in my room, and I’m alone. The bedside clock glows in the dark. It’s three in the morning.

Wiping the sweat off my brow, I wait for the memory to slowly sink back down to where it came from. It feels like a Kraken living in the depths of my brain just waiting for a weak moment to strike and pull me under.

And this is why I can’t cave to my carnal desires. Do I think Cy is hot? Um…yes. I always have. Do I still hate him? I don’t know. Do I think he’s changed? Maybe. But it doesn’t matter. The trauma he inflicted is still there.

Coming back and seeing him is proof of that.

I blink as my eyes adjust. Staring up at the blank ceiling, I realize that there is no more sleep for me tonight.

Throwing off the blankets, I stand and head for the door. Everything is quiet and dark when I poke my head out into the hallway and look around.

Shockingly, the guys chose to eat takeout and crash early after the concert. I almost took all their temperatures.

I tiptoe through the massive suite to the kitchen and spot the little light on and a shadow moving. I freeze before slowly making my way closer to see who it is. Let it be anyone but Cy.

My shoulders relax at the sight of Vex, leaning against the counter, eating a slice of cold pizza from the box.

“Hey,” I say, stepping into the kitchen. “Can’t sleep either?”

“Hey, and nope.”

“You never were one for long explanations,” I tease, grabbing a bottle of water.

“Why waste the words?”

“You may be onto something.” I point toward the box. “Mind sharing?”

“Help yourself,” he says, flipping open the lid for me. There is still half a box left, and my stomach growls at the scent.

“What is it about cold pizza that tastes so good?”

“No idea.”