Chapter 28 #2
“Fuck.” Pretty Boy drags a hand down his face, pacing once like he needs to burn the energy off. “You’re going to get me in so much trouble.” He stops and stares at me, frustration warring with something softer in his expression. “You have to understand how hard this is for me.”
I cross my arms, hugging them tight against my chest, fighting the sting behind my eyes.
“Then make it easier,” I whisper. “Tell me where he is. Tell me why he left like that. Tell me anything, Pretty Boy.”
His jaw flexes, and for a second I think he’s going to snap, send me packing back down the hall, but he doesn’t. He leans against the edge of his desk instead, arms folded, shoulders tense.
“I can’t,” he says finally, voice low and rough, like the words scrape his throat on the way out. “It’ll fucking kill you, Jo-Leigh, and I won’t have that on my hands.”
My stomach twists so violently I have to brace a hand against the wall. I know what that means. Swag’s with Ellie. That’s what he doesn’t want to say. That’s why his jaw’s locked, why his knuckles are white against his crossed arms. That’s why he’s warning me off.
“Have you talked to him?” My voice comes out smaller than I intend, sharp around the edges.
Pretty Boy dips his head once, quick, curt.
“He’s safe?” I ask, hating the shake in my voice, hating that I need the answer this badly.
He lets out a bitter laugh, short and humorless.
“Yeah,” he says, the word carrying a weight I don’t understand. “Safe.”
I turn away from him, rubbing my hands up and down my arms like I can scrub away the sting in my chest. What the hell am I supposed to do with this? Swag’s safe wherever the hell he is and hasn’t called. Hasn’t texted. Hasn’t reached for me at all.
Pretty Boy moves closer, his boots scuffing against the floor. I feel the heat of him at my back before he speaks.
“Talk to me, Jo-Leigh.”
I shake my head, staring at the threadbare carpet, words tangling in my throat.
“I’m not sure what to say,” I admit finally, my voice thin and shaky. “This is a lot to process.”
Silence stretches between us, heavy and charged. I crack my knuckles without thinking, the habit born from nerves, and Pretty Boy’s gaze catches on the sound.
“You used to do that when we were kids, too,” he says softly.
I freeze. The words pull me out of the spiral clawing at my chest.
“What?”
His expression softens for the first time since I knocked on his door. A small, sad smile curves his mouth that doesn’t reach his eyes.
“I was hoping you would’ve figured it out by now,” he says quietly.
I blink, confused, my mind scrambling to catch up. “Figured what out?”
Pretty Boy exhales, leaning back against the dresser, his arms crossing over his chest like he’s trying to protect himself even while he lets the words go.
“We were in the same foster home,” he says finally, holding my gaze steady. “Right after your mom died.”
The breath catches in my throat, sharp and painful.
I think back, forcing myself into memories I’ve spent years shoving into dark corners. Everything after my mom’s death is a blur. A string of places, faces, and moments I didn’t want to keep. But I do remember one thing.
Two mean older kids. A boy my age.
My stomach drops as it clicks.
“Seth?” I breathe, the name soft and stunned, like saying it out loud might make it real.
He smiles. “Yeah.”
For a second, I just stand there, staring at him, trying to reconcile the Pretty Boy I’ve known for years with the boy from that house. The one who shared bruised knees and stolen peanut butter sandwiches. Who let me cry when the grief was too much.
“Why did you wait so long to stay something?”
“When you didn’t recognize me right away, I figured it might not be a bad thing.
” His voice is low, softer than before, but there’s an edge hiding underneath.
“Those days were hell. I wish I could forget them, too. But then you got wrapped up in this shit,” he mutters, shaking his head.
“And I hate that you’re here, Jo-Leigh.”
“Yeah. I love Swag, but this has been a lot.”
Seth’s gaze sharpens. “Do you?”
I blink, confused by the bite in his tone. “Do I what?”
“Love him,” he says, deliberate and unflinching. At my silence, his lips twist, a bitter almost-smile pulling at the corner. “Because from where I’m standing, it doesn’t look like he’s given you a choice.”
My throat works, and I force the words out steady even though my hands curl into fists.
“I do love him.”
He stares at me, long enough that I start to squirm under the weight of it. Then he tilts his head, his voice dropping lower.
“Even knowing he’s probably inside another woman right now?”
The breath catches hard in my chest, sharp and cold, like a sucker punch to the ribs.
My first instinct is to deny it, to tell him he’s wrong, but my mouth won’t work.
Not when Swag hasn’t called. Not when he hasn’t texted.
Not when I’ve been sitting here for three days with bruises fading on my skin while he’s God knows where — God knows with who.
Seth steps closer, slow, deliberate, like he can feel the crack forming in me and he’s aiming right for it.
“You don’t believe me,” he says quietly. “But you’ve been here, waiting. Alone. No calls. No answers. No explanations. You really think he’d keep you in the dark if you mattered?”
“He’s protecting me,” I whisper, though it comes out weaker than I want. “He always protects me.”
Seth shakes his head once, sharp, like he can’t believe I even said it. “You keep telling yourself that. Meanwhile, he’s in New York playing savior for Ellie.”
I flinch like he slapped me. “You don’t know that.”
“Oh, I do.” His voice drops, rough and ragged. “And you do too. You’re just scared to admit it.”
I turn away from him, blinking hard, trying to breathe around the knot in my throat, but he doesn’t let me off the hook. He steps in closer, his voice right at my ear now, quiet but lethal with the truth.
“You deserve more than this, Jo-Leigh. More than being someone’s afterthought. More than waiting around while he’s out there fixing someone else’s mess and?—”
He stops, breath harsh, and when I look up, there’s something softer under the frustration, something he’s letting me see on purpose.
“You deserve someone who chooses you. Always.”
The words land deep, sharp and sweet, and for a second, I forget how to breathe.
I swallow hard, forcing my voice steady. “Seth…”
He straightens, putting just enough space between us to let me think I’ve got control back, though the look in his eyes says otherwise.
“I’m not telling you this to hurt you,” he says softly, though his jaw’s still locked tight. “I’m telling you because if you stay here, waiting for him to remember you exist, you’re gonna drown. Or worse. You’ll get caught up in the war and die.”
I shake my head, trying to push back the tears threatening to burn their way free. “Where would I even go?”
His eyes catch mine, unyielding. “With me.”
The air between us shifts instantly dangerous in a way I don’t know how to name.
“Run away with me, Jo-Leigh,” he says quietly, like it’s the simplest thing in the world. “We get out of here, away from the club, away from Ricky Langston, away from Swag.” He leans in just enough that his breath ghosts my temple. “I’ll keep you safe.”
I can’t answer. Not yet. My head’s spinning, my heart pounding, and the worst part? A small, broken part of me wants to say yes.