Damaged Like Us (Like Us #1)(105)

Tyler nods to Jane. “Get thicker skin.”

“Fuck you,” I growl. “You’re a guest here.”

Brad smirks, but his tone changes—hostility mounting. “No, we won a raffle that we paid for.”

I grind my teeth. Calm. Be calm. I breathe out before I ask calmly, “Why even enter the raffle if you hate us? Why come here and take the opportunity away from other people who would’ve loved to be where you are?”

Brad extends his arms. “Free camping trip.”

I have no words. Full disclosure: I don’t understand them. I can’t relate. I can’t empathize. I don’t know if it’s because I stand on a platform, a pedestal too high to see from their perspective. I don’t know if it’s because as I try to jump down, into their shoes, I’m just flooded with rage.

My gaze daggers. Burning and churning, and my face is all blades. All sharp, brutal edges.

Tyler snickers. “Did you all really just pull us aside to lecture us?”

Brad snorts. “They did.” He smacks his friend’s chest, and they chuckle again.

Tyler shakes his head. “It’s almost like they think they’re so much better than us. The entitlement that you two have is honestly disgusting.”

In my peripheral, I notice people filming the interaction. Phones whipping out and pointed at us. This has traveled in a direction I never thought it’d actually go.

Sometimes I can’t predict what people will think. What the public thinks. Where’s Jack Highland when you need him?

Jane raises her chin. “We just believe that you should be kinder. Don’t tell a girl that she should be hogtied, even if it’s someone you see on TV. Even if they say they like it—they’re not saying they want to be hogtied by you.” She takes a deep breath. “If you consider that entitled, then…okay. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t fucking apologize,” I tell her. They’ve been beating her down for three days. I’m not going to let that stand.

“Oohh,” Brad says. “We’ve struck a cord.”

I growl, “You’ve struck nothing, asshole.”

“Maximoff,” Farrow warns in the pit of my ear.

I point at these guys. “I sincerely hope that you don’t ever talk to women like that in your everyday life,” I growl. “Fuck it, you shouldn’t talk to anyone like that. And if you can’t see right from wrong, then remove your heads from your asses.”

As soon as the words escape my mouth, phones buzz and chime and ring all around us. People whisper, casting glances our direction. Even my cell vibrates madly in my pocket. It’s like someone flipped a switched and shrouded us in darkness.

What the fuck is going on?

Eyes begin to zero in on Janie and me. Like we’ve just undressed in the middle of the field. Naked. Bare. My pulse speeds.

Brad practically cackles, glancing from his phone, then to me, back to his phone. Then to me. “No wonder you’re so defensive of Jane Cobalt,” he says. “You’re fucking her.”

I lunge.

“Nope.” Farrow grabs me around the waist. I’m all boiling wrath. I point at Brad, my feet dragging in the dirt as Farrow restrains me.

“You’re a piece of shit,” I sneer.

“You think I’m a piece of shit?” He laughs. “Dude, I’m not fucking my cousin.”

“I’m not fucking her!” I scream, my lungs on fire.

“Moffy,” Jane says in warning, her voice trailing ominously. She’s staring haunted at her phone.

What the fuck happened?





40





MAXIMOFF HALE





Jane, Farrow, and I only have about ten minutes to talk before my parents, her parents, and our aunt and uncle show up at the camp. All six of them drove over as soon as they saw the article.

Maximoff Hale and Jane Cobalt: The Secret Love Affair!

It’s fake.

You shouldn’t believe it either.

Fake articles always pop up online. We process. We put out a public statement. And we deal with it. This isn’t any different as far as I’m concerned.

Alright, it’s a little damn different.

I’ve never been accused of incest. Never even thought that could be swung my way, but as soon as we tell our side of the story—everything will be as it was.

“They’re waiting in there for us?” Janie asks an Alpha bodyguard who exits a camp cabin named Green Willow. He nods tensely, face stoic.

I climb up the short stairs with Jane, and we pause on the porch.

“Everything’s fine,” I remind her. “We’ll deal with it like we always do. My publicist is on speed dial, and I’m sure your dad wants us to coordinate with his people.”

Damage control. We’re all seasoned pros.

Jane inhales a tight breath, and nods reassuringly. I glance back.

Farrow has one foot on the step and looks between us. “If you two need anything, I’ll be right here.” Chatter in his earpiece distracts him. His jaw tics before he touches his mic on his collar.

I can’t distinguish his hushed words.

I move forward, grabbing Jane’s hand.

Right when Jane and I enter the cabin, hand-in-hand, the energy shifts. Our parents and aunt and uncle grow eerily quiet all of a sudden.