CHAPTER 5
ZANE
PAST
Sometimes, life finds the most twisted ways to mess with us. For me, it chose to shatter my world by breaking my mother in half.
And yet, through all of it, I can’t shake this strange, persistent feeling of not belonging.
Everyone around me seems to have someone, even if they deny it or put on the facade of loneliness. Deep down, they know their person is out there. Even Abby—the closest thing I have to a best friend in this godforsaken town—has someone.
But Abby... she’s special to me. Not that it means I’m special to her in return.
When we were younger, I used to have a little crush on Abigail. It made sense in my head—we were born the same year, grew up together. We fit, or so I thought. But I’m not the person she wants. That honor goes to my grumpy, perpetually brooding brother, Kyle. And you know what? That’s fine.
I still fake a crush on her sometimes, just to annoy Kyle. It’s funny watching him get all defensive.
Abby, though—she’s not subtle. Even now, she’s staring at some blonde girl on her phone screen like the girl’s the second coming of Christ. It’s almost hilarious how obvious she is. She doesn’t even realize she’s doing it, but I do. She’s looking for Kyle in other people.
Not that Kyle is some kind of prize, mind you. He’s a complete ass most of the time. But if Kyle were a girl? He’d probably look exactly like Gia—dark clothes, sharp glare, that same aura of someone who thrives in chaos. It’s almost poetic.
That desperate need to connect with someone, to feel whole by being with another person? It’s never happened to me.
And it’s not because of my mother, even though she turned into a hollow shell of a woman after my father died. No, I’ve always been this way. Born empty.
It doesn’t mean I’m a heartless machine, though. Unfortunately, my heart still has a way of overruling my reason. It’s just that I can’t find a reason to care deeply about anyone. Not now, maybe not ever.
It’s not like I’m actively suppressing my feelings—they leave on their own, like they can’t stand to stick around.
Take Abigail and her obsession with mangas. She holds onto every romanticized aspect of it.
I’ve never loved anyone. Never cared enough to give someone my energy.
And I’m fine with that. I’ve got my art, my manga, and a Spotify playlist full of Blackpink and Travis Scott. What else could I need? Maybe just a way out of this suffocating town, a chance to see what the world is really like.
So I hide. I hate talking. I hate people—they drain me. I hate my mother, my siblings annoy the hell out of me, and there’s this bottomless well of anger sitting in my chest.
But I bury it all. Smile through it. Because the last thing I want is to perpetuate the same cycle of violence I grew up in. Letting the anger out would only feed it.
That’s why I’m here now, hiding with Abby under the bleachers. It’s our usual spot during free periods. She likes it because it’s quiet. I like it because I can nap without hearing the sound of bottles breaking or someone screaming at someone else.
“Are you going out with Gia again today, Green?” I ask, leaning back against the metal frame.
Abby blushes. “No. She said she wanted to talk, so I invited her to watch a movie.”
“Translation: you’re going to fuck,” I tease, earning a glare.
“Stop being a fetishistic pig.”
“Fetishist? Please. I’d totally screw you if I didn’t see you as a sister.” I smirk. “But, hey, I’m not really in my incest phase. Maybe in a few years. And Gia? I’d rather stick my dick in a shredder.”
Abby rolls her eyes. “I don’t understand why you hate Gia so much.”
“Because I have eyes, Abby. She’s using you as a crutch because Connor dumped her ass to sleep around in college. Plus, the girl’s weird. You can’t deny that.”
“She’s just more reserved. I get it.”
“Weird,” I correct with a grin. “But honestly, I’d totally sleep with you if it meant getting you away from her. You’re too good for that mess.”
“That was disturbingly sweet,” she mutters, laughing despite herself.
She thinks I’m joking, so I let her. It’s easier that way.
But then her expression changes. She looks like she wants to tell me something, her brows furrowing.
“Speaking of weird,” she says, “I don’t like our school nurse. Dr. Rachel Wayne? I swear, she keeps staring at you when no one’s looking. I should report her.”
I smirk at her perceptiveness, but there’s no need to worry. Puberty has wrecked whatever appeal I might’ve had in Rachel’s eyes.
She won’t touch me again.
The thought makes my chest tighten, bitter memories bubbling to the surface. Just one more awful thing in a long line of them, courtesy of my mother’s negligence.
“Call him weird again, and I’ll shove this pom-pom up your ass, you slut.” That’s my very angry sister’s voice, coming from up in the stands. Don’t worry, though—Taylor Hill is as feisty as a Chihuahua.
Today, junior high and freshman classes are being held in the main building. Perfect. No naps for me. Godwin Prep is massive, housing both middle and high school students, but the two groups are split between different buildings. It’s not uncommon for us to bump into the younger kids on the way to class, especially seniors like me since our classrooms are closer together.
“I didn’t say he was weird,” the girl stammers, visibly shaken as Taylor grips her cheerleading uniform like she’s about to throw down. “I said he grew out of his weird phase and became hot.”
I stifle a laugh. Taylor’s not exactly a trained fighter—she probably would’ve been if Father were still alive—but that doesn’t stop her from diving headfirst into trouble. Her fighting skills are more like an angry bee’s. She knows the sting could kill her, but her anger always speaks louder.
“Please,” the girl whispers.
I have to admit, my sister has the vibe. Even though she’s not actually dangerous, she’s good at making people believe she is. She belongs to a biker club, after all. Everyone in her year fears her—everyone except Seth Evans. But I doubt there’s anything that guy actually fears.
The son of a bitch is scary, not the other way around.
“Call Harvin anything again, and I’ll reconfigure your entire face—not before I destroy your life, bitch. Don’t provoke me,” Taylor growls.
“I didn’t mean to insult your boyfriend! I’m not even the one who has a thing for him. That’s Judy Fall—”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” my sister snaps coldly.
No, but they sleep together, wake up together, share food like some kind of symbiotic pair, and only separate to use the bathroom. And I’m still speculating about that because they might not even separate then. Harvin is her favorite person, the first name she says when she wakes up, the one she runs to when she’s sick or when Mom fucks with her head.
They’re inseparable—except for moments like this, where Harvin’s a junior and Taylor’s still a freshman.
“That’s good, Tay-Tay,” Seth cuts in, throwing an arm around her shoulder like the cocky bastard he is. “Because I was starting to worry our plans for three kids and a house in the country were doomed.”
Taylor flashes him a knowing smile, but I can see the glint in her eye. God help us all. My sister has a crush—and it’s not on Harvin.
The world might as well end now.
“Should we intervene?” Abigail whispers.
“They’re not killing anyone.”
“Then maybe we should leave,” Abby suggests, her voice uneasy.
“We’re not interfering; we’re just standing here, enjoying our free time. It’s their fault for reporting their lives out loud,” I say, lying back on her lap, trying to get comfortable enough to sleep.
“Smart guy,” she mutters, rolling her eyes.
Seth leans down and whispers something in Taylor’s ear that makes her smile. The girl in the cheer uniform uses the distraction to bolt.
Taylor rests her head on his shoulder. It’s almost funny how comfortable they are. He’s probably the closest thing she has to a real friend—if you ignore the fact that he’s a complete sociopath.
I used to think Seth was just a weird kid. I still do, honestly, but lately, he’s been weirdly social. Like a switch flipped, and one day, he just decided to start talking to people. It’s unsettling.
“Do you think your sister likes Harvs?” Taylor asks Alana, who’s sitting nearby, nose buried in a book and blissfully oblivious to the chaos.
“Give it a week. My sister will get bored,” Alana says, snapping her book shut. “I need to get to class early, or AJ will steal my spot—and my extra credits.”
Seth smirks, like he’s filing that information away for later.
Taylor shoots him a look. “Don’t even think about using that against her.”
“I would never ,” he says, all fake innocence.
She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, sure. And I’m not sleeping with you.”
“Your loss,” he fires back, grinning.
She tilts her head, amused. “Not even gonna ask why?”
Seth shrugs. “Why waste my breath? It’s obvious. You want Harvin.”
Taylor snorts. “Please. I do not want Harvin.” Then, with a smirk of her own, she leans in. “And look who’s talking, Mr. ‘I’m not obsessed with my foster sister, I just beat the shit out of any guy who so much as breathes near her.’ ”
Seth’s grin doesn’t falter. “What can I say? I’m a family man.”
“Gross, that girl is basically your sister,” Taylor says, wrinkling her nose.
“She’s not my sister,” Seth says, his tone calm but firm. “And I didn’t hit anyone. The baseball bat just happened to meet his nose.”
Taylor groans. “Seriously, Seth?”
He shrugs. “He made her uncomfortable. I made him bleed. Fair trade.”
She pinches the bridge of her nose. “You can’t just assault people every time you think they’re making her uncomfortable.”
Seth tilts his head, unbothered. “I don’t see the issue.”
“The issue,” Taylor huffs, “is that you have the impulse control of a raccoon on energy drinks.”
He grins. “And yet, you still hang out with me.”
“Yeah, well, I make bad choices.”
Seth leaned back against the wall, eyes half-lidded, a faint smirk tugging at his lips as Taylor’s words spilled out like a lecture she didn’t know she was giving. He didn’t flinch or react—just toyed with the Rubik’s cube in his hands, his fingers moving with lazy precision.
“She shouldn’t kiss people who make her lose her smile,” he added flatly, not bothering to meet her gaze.
“You don’t get to decide who she kisses, Seth,” Taylor snapped, crossing her arms. “That’s not how it works. You know that, right? You’re not her father.”
“Connor cares,” Seth replied with the kind of calm that could freeze a room.
“Connor’s a jerk. Like Kyle. But you—” Taylor jabbed a finger toward him, narrowing her eyes. “You don’t fool me, Seth Boy. The reason you sent that guy to the hospital wasn’t about defending her honor. You don’t even know what that means.”
Seth’s lips twitched, but his voice stayed cold. “I have access to history, thank you. Maybe it wasn’t about what you think. Maybe I just miss the violence. Maybe I just liked seeing that brat covered in blood.”
Taylor scoffed, crossing her arms. "Yeah, yeah, I get it, Seth. You spent ten years in that hellhole and only got out four years ago—lot to unpack there. And yeah, people think you’re weird. Sometimes you crave some messed up shit. Makes sense. Who the hell comes out of all that acting normal? But it was never just about the violence, was it? I know you.”
He glanced at her, just a flicker of interest. “Do you?”
"I do," she said, her tone easing—just a little. "Because you’re my friend, one of my best, and I know what it’s like to hold on to someone like they’re the only thing keeping you from losing it. Been there. But Seth..." She exhaled sharply. "You can’t let people see how you feel about her. This is gonna turn into a shitstorm."
“Why not?” His tone was as neutral as ever, but something flickered behind his eyes.
“Because,” she said, stepping closer, “if you feel the way I think you do…”
“I don’t,” he interrupted, his voice sharp but his expression unreadable.
"Don’t cut me off," she snapped, voice rising with irritation. "If you’re feeling what I think you are, it’s a fucking mess. It’s wrong, Seth. Yeah, my family does a ton of shady shit, but this? Nah, it’s not just about the law—it’s about basic fucking decency. The Rosses want to adopt you. You’re gonna be her brother. And let’s be real—two or three years might not seem like much now, but when you're eighteen and she's still just a kid, it’s gonna get ugly as hell. That’s not okay. It’s fucked up."
“Why not?” he asked again, genuinely curious.
“It’s just messed up, Seth,” she said, her voice quieter now.
“So?” He tilted his head, unbothered.
Taylor groaned, running a hand through her hair. “You’re impossible.”
Seth finally looked at her, his gaze sharp and unwavering. "So what, hugging her is fucked up now?"
Taylor hesitated, her eyes narrowing as she snapped, "It’s not the damn hug, Seth. It’s how it makes you feel . You’re so fucking lost in this shit that you don’t even see it."
He studied her for a long moment, his gaze piercing, cold, detached. “You talk like I’ve lived some nightmare,” he said flatly. “But to know what’s bad, I’d have to know what’s good. I don’t. Never have. I’m just... clouded. I don’t feel. ” His tone was impassive, like he wasn’t really talking to her, just stating facts—because that's all it was to him.
Taylor’s gaze softened, and she reached out, pulling him into a brief hug. “You’re not even going to deny it, are you?” she asked, her voice quieter now. “About Audrey?”
Seth shrugged, stepping back. “I’d deny it if I knew what liking someone meant. But you probably understand that better than I do, don’t you?”
Taylor stared at him, searching for something in his expression. “What are we doing, Seth?” she whispered.
“I’m solving a Rubik’s cube,” he replied flatly, holding it up, “and listening to another one of your lectures on ethics like I care.”
“That’s not what I meant.” She shook her head, frustrated. “I mean, with our lives. My most constant relationship is with my childhood best friend, who I practically grew up with. And you’re—what? Obsessed with your sister?”
“She’s not my sister,” Seth corrected, his tone sharp but even.
Taylor rolled her eyes, but there was a flicker of concern in her expression. “I care about you, Seth. And I’m telling you—being around Audrey is only going to hurt you. And not just emotionally.”
"Emotionally?" Seth scoffs, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, okay."
Taylor sighed, pulling him into another hug. “You’re so damn stubborn. But I’m not giving up on you.”
Seth smirked, a glint of charm flashing in his eyes as he leaned back slightly, enough to pull away from her hug just a little. "You think you can change me?" he teased, his voice smooth, the easy confidence unmistakable. "Good luck with that."
Taylor pulled back, raising an eyebrow as a smirk tugged at the corner of her lips. “Change you? Nah,” she shot back, her tone playful but sharp. “I’m not trying to fix you, Seth. I’m just here to make sure you don’t screw everything up for yourself.” She shrugged, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “But hey, keep being stubborn. You’ll just make it more interesting.”
“Don’t waste your energy, Tay,” he murmured, stepping back. “I’m not worth it.”
"You're like a damn brother to me, Seth. Of course, you're worth it. You think I’d waste my time on someone who wasn’t?" She leaned in with a smirk, her eyes daring him to argue.
"Brother, huh?" he says, eyeing me with amusement. "So, you want to fuck your brothers? That’s interesting. I should warn Kyle."
“Ew.” She slapped his arm, glaring. “Don’t even joke about that.”
“You started it,” he said, his voice as bored as ever.
"Ew indeed." I grimace.
Too much to process and definitely too much to try to sleep after. Seriously. How disgusting.
"You’re the one talking about being in love with a relative, not me," Seth says, trying to shift the spotlight.
"You know what I meant." Taylor’s tone softens, but the edge in her voice lingers. "I’m not even close to my brothers. Kyle acts like some absent father figure, and Zane… Zane hates me so much for looking like my mom that he avoids me in every corner of that house."
I don’t hate you, I want to scream. I hate myself.
I understand you, little sister. I feel lost too. But the difference is, you’ll be fine. You’ve got someone to run to.
I’m alone.
Taylor shrugs. "I mean, I know you’re not exactly capable of feeling or whatever. But I care about you, Seth. And when I say being around Audrey Ross will only hurt you, I’m saying that they’ll kill you."
Seth’s response is cold, pragmatic. "Let them."
"No," she whispers.
Then she does something unexpected—she grabs Seth’s face and turns it toward her. "Maybe you and I make more sense than you and her. Ever thought about that? It’d be fun."
"You want Harvin," Seth replies flatly, no hesitation.
"It could be you," she whispers back, her voice lower now, more vulnerable.
Seth surprises me. He smiles—a wry, almost bitter smile—and leans in to kiss her forehead.
"We both know that’s a lie, Tay Tay," he says quietly. "And I don’t do love."
Her lips twitch into a smile, but there’s no humor in it. "You saying that makes me feel challenged," she says.
Seth smiles back, but it’s not a comforting one. It’s dangerous.
This is a game—a dangerous one. And I know it has everything to do with my mother’s drunken frustrations. She’s probably reminded Taylor again how much they’re alike. That always sends her spiraling, searching for something—or someone—to destroy.
But Taylor isn’t my mother.
She’s not my responsibility , I tell myself.
But she’s your little sister. She needs you.
She thinks you hate her. And maybe that’s for the best.
Damn.
Abigail, who had somehow drifted off mid-conversation and spent the entire time napping, suddenly stirred.
Blinking groggily, she sat up, only to find Seth and Taylor standing way too close. Her drowsiness faded in an instant, replaced by an apprehensive expression as her gaze flickered between them.
“…Did I miss something?” she asked slowly, her voice thick with sleep but laced with suspicion.
“No.” Just everything.
I take her hand, offering a small, reassuring smile. But I know what she is thinking because I’m thinking the same.
Seth and Taylor are alike in one way: they live for the challenge. The thrill of the hunt. But mostly, they live to sabotage themselves.
Seth leans in closer to Taylor, his lips brushing her ear. I can’t hear what he whispers, but whatever it is makes her blush.
She turns to face him, their eyes locking. The tension between them is unbearable, and I’m not about to stand here and watch my sister hook up with someone like Seth.
This is my moment to escape.
Abigail looks equally uneasy, but she has classes to get to. I, on the other hand, am done with this school shit.
I’m in a bad mood and haven’t been able to sleep since yesterday’s argument.
My mom and Taylor—they’re always so hard on each other.
It’s heartbreaking to watch them tear each other apart. Ky’s too busy studying and working to keep the house afloat, and Taylor and I have agreed to keep him in the dark about what goes on when he’s not around.
It’d only make things worse if he knew.
Besides, she usually settles down when she’s found someone to distract herself with—her latest form of self-destruction.
With nowhere else to go, I head to the abandoned tunnel at the edge of town. It’s my spot—a quiet place for graffiti and naps, my personal refuge in this dump of a town.
But today, it’s not empty.
Someone’s there.
It’s a woman. She’s covered in bruises, her hair a stark contrast—half black, the other half matted with blood. Her eyes are wild, desperate. She doesn’t look young—early thirties, maybe—but her face is etched with exhaustion, like she’s running from something.
She notices me before I can slip away. Her voice is shaky, almost a whisper.
"Are you real?"
Real? Am I real?