Split(97)

My plan couldn’t have worked any better. Even though neither of us ended up getting off and I kicked her out of my bed the second Shy’s tires disappeared down the drive, it’s the illusion that did it. A finely played ruse that worked out better than I could’ve planned. Luke waking up to this mess would’ve been enough; he would’ve felt guilty, confessed, and Shyann would be out of his life for good. But no, she actually walked in and saw it. Perfect.

I’d pat myself on the back if I had the balls to do it, but there’s one disturbing visual that’s sucking all the fun from my victory. No matter how many shots of Jack I swallow, I can still see Shy’s face. The subtle changes as I watched every emotion move through those big blues like a kaleidoscope. First shock, then confusion, devastation, and finally complete destruction.

I tilt the bottle to my lips, toasting to my success.

It’s what I wanted.

Hell, I’d have been happy for her to walk in on any part of that impromptu date with the drunk I picked up in the bar.

What luck that she walked in at the best part?

Luck.

Right.

Then why the f*ck do I feel like spooning my heart out and setting it on fire?

I tell myself this is what needed to be done. Shyann was f*cking Luke, then had her lips smashed against that pet f*cker’s mouth in the middle of the hospital for the entire town to see.

She humiliated us!

Luke. She humiliated Luke.

I’m sure she’s out there somewhere cursing my name, blaming me for breaking our newly fledged confidence in each other, but f*ck her.

She broke it first.

How could she even speak to that * after how he treated Luke?

All Luke wanted was to be there for her, but to walk into the hospital and see her hands on that scumbag hours after she was naked in our bed? Fuck her!

I drain the rest of the Jack and toss the bottle across the wood floor, watching it bounce, then spin. My head feels exactly like that damn bottle but pain and dizziness is a motherf*cking party compared to what’s going on in my chest.

Right now she must be feeling betrayed, used, f*cking walked on. Good. Now we’re both in hell and miserable.

I groan and drop my head into my hands, refusing to acknowledge what my heart is demanding.

“She didn’t love us. She didn’t.” The only bit of love I’ve ever felt from another human being is a long-forgotten memory of my siblings. Except what I felt from Shyann before she stabbed me in the back seemed like love. She accepted me, challenged me, and protected me.

She believed in me, not just me because I’m a part of Luke, but in me.

In Gage.

Oh shit . . . Did I make a mistake by throwing that drunken slut in Shy’s face? A flash of her hand on that pet dick and then her lips pressed to his pours fire through my veins.

No, this had to be done.

It’s not like I could’ve fought for her, stormed into the hospital and beat that f*ckface senseless before dragging her out of there by her hair. Would she even want that, or would she finally see me as the monster I really am? Pretty sure practically drowning her exposed me long before today. Yet she never ran, always came back and even went so far as to try to understand. I didn’t make it easy either. I put up a fight, pushing her away at every opportunity, and she never gave up on us.

She loves us.

Loved us.

“Shit, Luke.” I rub my eyes, hoping it’ll squelch the burn. “Think I may’ve f*cked this up.”





THIRTY-FIVE



SHYANN


It’s quiet. And for the first time in my life I force myself to welcome the silence.

Staring at the small clearing in the forest they call “a park” because they’ve tied two swings to low-lying branches and threw in a few benches and a garbage can, I contemplate my life.

My breathing sounds loud in my ears as frustrated breaths saw through my lungs and eventually turn into defeated puffs of air.

Whatever was left of my heart after my mom died, Gage devoured it whole.

The memory of him with that woman plays through my head on a loop and I think of all the better ways I could’ve handled it. I see myself walking to the bed and ripping Gage off that woman. I envision her scampering for her panties and having to walk down the dirt road tugging on her clothing to cover her naked slut-whore body.

Aaaand I’m back to spitting mad.

This is all Gage. That poor girl did nothing more than fall for a handsome face, solid body, and a shitload of charm. She’s not the whore. He is!

He will stop at nothing to push me away and he knows my feelings for Lucas are also my biggest weakness. I should’ve been on guard rather than opening my heart and freely offering it to be crushed.

Good job, Gage. You win.

What better way to hurt the woman who loves you than to f*ck someone else in the bed you’d just made love in?

Love? Ha!

What a joke. I’m starting to wonder if Gage is even capable of the emotion. My guess is no.

Protection, sure.

Love, not so much.

He sure as shit wasn’t protecting me today. Nor was he protecting Lucas. Clarity washes through me and my spine stiffens. His purpose is to watch after Lucas; how is sleeping with someone else helping his cause? It makes no sense. Everything Gage does is calculated, but this feels more like an emotional response. Rash and dirty. I shake my head and against my better judgment attempt to figure him out.