Chapter 7 #5
How will I ever survive the ticking time bomb counting down in the back of my brain?
Seeing them is inevitable. I know it will come.
But if I hide away, can I avoid it forever?
I don’t know if my heart can break all over again just by seeing their faces.
It’s already held together loosely by duct tape and sheer determination.
What will be the final straw?
My eyes scan the large quad spread out before us.
Lush greens. Colorful flowers. Tall trees.
And people everywhere. Mostly students enjoying the sunshine on blankets with snacks and drinks, conversing with their friends after settling into their dorms. Several students toss a football around.
Others throw a bright blue frisbee, laughing when it lands in the lap of a girl who shrieks.
My gaze continues to scan the horizon, stopping on crowds of people expectantly with my heart in my throat. Every look is another step in their direction. My skin feels overly tight and itching with anticipation.
I know it's about to happen before my eyes zero in on them. Like a sixth sense. The hairs on my arms stand on end. Oxygen halts in my lungs. Three familiar—yet so different—men walk through the middle of the quad. The sun seems to shine directly on them—a guiding light in the darkness of my mind.
They've changed so much. Gotten taller. Darker. More dangerous looking.
White hot rage boils through my veins at the mere sight of them. Walking around so normally. This is the life they’ve been able to lead. Living it to the fullest on the Greenwood U campus. I bet they fulfilled every promise they whispered in my ear. Except it was for themselves instead of me.
“We'll run away together. After college,” Hux whispers directly in my ear. “This will be our domain.”
“We'll get set for life.” Mack grins, staring out at the campus with a beer in his hand. “We'll get an education on Daddy's dime and then…” he mockingly holds out the word daddy.
“We'll bolt,” JJ offers softly from beside me. His big golden brown eyes taking in the crowds of college students.
“Promise?” I ask, grinning.
“2-2-4, Trouble,” Huxley mumbles, kissing my temple affectionately.
“Hux! Oh my God!” A female voice rings out drunkenly, slurring. “You're here!”
I wrinkle my nose, stiffening under the weight of his arm over my shoulders. I try to pull away, but he doesn't allow me to. In fact, JJ and Mack move closer, encircling me protectively.
“Amanda.” Huxley’s voice comes out rigid and uninviting.
Amanda. Their biggest fan. A politician's daughter oozing privilege and entitlement. Oh, and she hates me. So, that’s a plus.
She grins, tossing her blonde locks over her shoulder. “I'm so glad to see you guys made it!” She doesn't bother acknowledging my existence. It's fine, though. Because I'd rather vomit lava than say hello to her.
Shivers work through me at the memory. It's been happening so much lately. Those tiny slices of our history resurfacing out of nowhere.
Only this time, it's because of them. They're so close for the first time in five years. Physically near. My body feels it. Reacts at the sight of them. My soul reaches for them; despite the damage they've done to it. They darkened it. Betrayed it. Yet, it betrays me, seeking old comforts.
But I won't let it.
There’s too much rage living within me to ever consider them again. I’m here on a mission to bring them down.
I can't peel my eyes away. It's like a train wreck at full speed, crashing into me with every damn emotion.
My fingers curl into fists. Jordy shifts beside me, following my gaze. Redness tints his cheeks, and his eyes narrow dangerously tight.
“That’s them?” he says through a rushed breath, filled with a rage I haven't heard from him before. He's mostly butterflies and unicorns. Using his humor to deflect from the pesky emotions bubbling up inside him.
But right now? There's murder in his tone and promise in his eyes.
” Yup,” I breathe, unable to say anything else.
It’s them.
Huxley smiles at JJ, who tucks his hands into his jeans pockets with a familiar, shy smile. He was always so reserved, hiding everything from the outside world. Not me, though. I broke through his trauma. He was mine. My broken boy. And I, his broken girl.
JJ’s dark eyes lift slightly as he shakes his shaggy brown hair out of his eyes. Long ago, he wore black-rimmed glasses, but they’re nowhere in sight. Maybe he finally graduated to contacts.
Or…maybe I shouldn’t care.
I shake my head. That's a thing of the past. I am dead in their eyes. No one. And they shouldn't elicit so many weird feelings that burst inside me. It’s like my soul remembers the good times we had. The promises that were made. The small touches. The laughs. The everything we were to each other.
But my mind remembers almost every detail of their deception.
It's hard to process a betrayal when the ones responsible were held on a pedestal for so long. They were my protectors in the storms, hiding me from my father's rage and my mother's incompetence—until that image shattered like a statue crumbling to the ground and disappearing forever.
Mack frowns. A frown he never wore before.
It ages him. Making him into a darkened figure filled with hate.
Mack was always happy-go-lucky despite his circumstances.
He felt relief when the state took him away from his mother, and he found himself in the Franco household.
From there, he learned to become valuable to his new foster dad and became a permanent fixture by Hux’s side.
His bright blue eyes shined brighter. His smile grew wider.
Happiness had found him once and for all.
“I’m serious about my promise,” Jordy growls, pulling up the front of his shirt and revealing a handgun resting in his pants.
“I have my long-range in the back. They’ll never know what hit them.
” Rage fills his light eyes to the brim, darkening them with his promise.
“I can drive two miles from here and still hit my mark.”
I know he's not joking. Jordy is the best shot we’ve got. Well, besides me, of course. He's taken down people from further away, which shouldn't be possible. He's an asset. But don’t ever tell him that, it’ll go straight to his big head and he’ll never let me live it down.
I quickly grab his arm as he reaches back with the intention of doing as he says. I squeeze him until he stops and blinks up at me through a red haze.
“Not here.” I shake my head. “They don’t deserve a quick exit.” It deserves to be slow and agonizing, like what happened to me.
Karma will get them. That’s for sure.
Jordy mulls my words over before slumping in his seat when he realizes I’m right. His gaze never leaves the men conversing with the group of girls. So full of life. Laughing. Breathing.
Do they ever think about me? And what they did to me? Or do they go to bed each night with a clear conscience, laughing at my naive expense?
I watch with bated breath as the girls walk away from them with smiles on their faces. Once out of sight, the three men stand shoulder to shoulder, crossing their arms over their muscular chests and eyeing the campus like Gods lording over their subjects.
Everyone who passed by waves at them. Men. Women. Even the parents seem to know them.
Huxley’s eyes scan the parking lot with a flat expression.
Taking everything in like he was taught to do.
A perfect soldier for Franco. He stands tall.
Shoulders pulled back and ready for anything.
The longer strands of his brown hair blow in the slight breeze, drifting across his forehead, while the sides are shorter, nearly shaved.
From here, I can’t see the gleam in his moss-green eyes.
The same gleam I came to know well as a teenager whenever he was plotting something dangerous or fun.
There’s a harder edge to Hux. Like Franco successfully molded Hux into the man he always wanted him to be. A leader. A fixture of his gang.
I hold my breath when he scans our SUV intently, taking it in and reading our license plate. Heat bursts up my neck and onto my cheeks until he moves on to the next vehicle full of people.
It's a good thing this is a rental, under false identities.
Once I regain my breath, I can't help but trace the multitude of tattoos etched onto his flesh. As a teenager, they fascinated me. He loved the pain of the tattoo machine on his skin. Ached for it.
“Did it hurt?” I whisper, running my finger over the colorful daisy resting on his bicep.
Hux smirks, lazily running his index finger up my thigh as we rest on the floor of the treehouse, watching as the sun sets in the distance and bathing the world in a hue of pink and orange, tainted by the storm clouds hovering above them and snuffing out the light.
A cool breeze comes through the windows, spreading goosebumps down my flesh as the rain begins to fall, pelting the roof of our treehouse.
“They always hurt.”
“Then why get them?” I whisper, staring up into his moss-green eyes.
“Because the pain is worth the beauty,” he whispers before capturing my lips with his in a slow kiss and embrace as thunder rumbles around us, and I cling to him tightly. “We’ll weather any storm, Trouble,” he says, gripping me tight and forcing my gaze to his.
Even when I want to cower away from the lightning spiking across the sky.
Fuck.
I squeeze my eyes shut, hoping to break the spell of watching them.
I need to get my wits about me and fucking pay attention for our mission.
Not fall victim to the past that’s lingering beneath the shadows of my brain, striking me down.
I need to keep my head above water. I can't keep falling into memories headfirst and remembering who they were.
They showed me who they truly were under the masks they wore that night when they set me on fire and ended my existence.
“I really want to strangle those fuckers,” Jordy grunts, pushing a hand through his hair.
“I’m going to go rogue one of these days, Liv.
Find out where they’re staying and just fucking obliterate them.
” He shakes his head, bringing me back to the car and away from the three murderers waltzing around campus.
I lick my lips, watching as they walk away, weaving between the buildings. Presumably to move into the frat they occupy on campus. As for information on them, that's as far as I know.
That'll be a major focal point of my job. Getting close to them again and securing information.
What a joy.
“Let me do my job,” I say. “Let me bring them to justice.”
Justice is a fickle word. My justice or Veritas’? Which do they deserve? Prison time? Or punishment for what they did?
It's a toss-up.
“Fine,” Jordy grumbles, slamming a hand into the steering wheel. “I’ll give you that. Your face is the last thing they should see when you finally take them down and throw them in prison forever. Or better yet, in an unmarked grave. I’ll have the popcorn ready.”
He’s right.