Chapter 12
NEO
I’m in fucking trouble.
The thought rotates through my head for the entire evening. It’s stuck on a carousel, playing an annoying tune, so I can’t ignore it.
I’m in motherfucking trouble.
Everything up until now has been fun. Taunting Wylder to get a reaction.
Spending my days organizing his life. Trying to break into Umbra’s servers so I can keep the Buckinghams and, in turn, myself and Ansel safe.
Invading Wylder’s bed, watching him snap, and then sucking his cock until he comes down my throat.
Even tonight’s date was meant to be fun. Another way to mess with Wylder. To strip away part of that control he prides himself on. The control I suspect is slowly eroding away his soul.
That’s all it was meant to be. A bit of fun.
I wasn’t banking on Wylder. How carefully he buckled me into that death trap that somehow passes for transportation.
The way he held both my hands the entire flight.
How he gave me time to recover without rushing me.
His consideration as he fed me medicine and ginger ale.
The quiet confidence in his belief that I could go anywhere, because I wouldn’t be treated poorly if I was with him.
Because he wouldn’t allow it.
Any one of these things would spell trouble, but combined?
It’s a powder keg, just waiting to explode.
I might’ve been safe if it hadn’t been for the arcade.
Or, perhaps, if Wylder had just randomly chosen it.
But then he said those fucking words.
“I always pay attention to you.”
Doesn’t he realize how dangerous that is for someone like me? I grew up with no attention. With people who only cared that I was there if it meant a bigger balance in their bank account. No one ever gives a shit about me, let alone actually pays attention.
But Wylder does.
That’s dangerous.
It means I’m in trouble.
I’m in fucking trouble.
Because now I’m not just looking at this as a bit of fun. I’m not looking at Wylder as a challenge, as an adversary.
I’m looking at him in a whole new light. One that’s so bright it threatens to blind me. That’s what’s dangerous. Wylder might be indulging me now, but it won’t last. Before long, he’ll be tired of my antics. I’ll be tossed aside and forgotten about.
Just as I have been by everyone else in my life.
Ansel’s the only one who’s ever stayed. But even he would’ve left me if it weren’t for the Umbra Syndicate. I’m only in the same house as him now because of the threat they pose. If they weren’t around, I’d be back in our tiny apartment, forgotten and alone.
That’s why I grinned up at Wylder and insisted we get started, and why I keep a smile on my face and tease him as I always do.
If I don’t, the fear will get me. The knowledge that this happiness won’t last. Because it never does.
Not for me. And certainly not with Wylder. The guy might’ve let me suck his cock, but that doesn’t mean anything. For fuck’s sake, I stripped in his bed last night, told him I was plugged and ready, and all but begged him to fuck me.
But he didn’t.
Even without my intelligence, I can read the signs. Wylder isn’t interested in pursuing anything with me. Which is fine. Good, even. I don’t want a relationship either.
Wylder can’t break my heart if I don’t give it to him.
And I meant it when I said we wouldn’t work. We’re too different.
We spend hours playing the games from my youth. Wylder starts off terribly, but after watching me play, he quickly picks it up.
“That’s not fair,” I exclaim as he beats my score in Pac-Man. “How are you suddenly so good?”
“It’s a pattern,” he says, his eyes narrowed in concentration behind his glasses. “It’s easy enough once you work it out.”
As time goes on, the arcade slowly fills with chattering teenagers. I can’t help but notice how Wylder’s shoulders creep up around his ears. I’m not sure if it’s the crowd or the noise, but something about it is clearly bothering him.
“Can we get food?” I touch the small of his back to get his attention. “I’m hungry.”
“You’re always hungry,” he mutters. I feel him lean back into my touch, and my lips lift. “I booked us a table at a place a few doors down, but it’s not for another hour. I can call them and move the reservation up?”
Just then, the kids at the game next to us start catcalling loudly. Wylder’s expression pinches, and I shake my head. “Nah. I want some fresh air. Can we go for a walk first?”
Relief flashes over Wylder’s face. “Yes. That sounds wonderful, actually.”
I place my hand back in his before I can question it, lacing our fingers together. He hesitates before giving them a small squeeze.
Neither of us speak as we file out of the arcade, the cool air nipping at my exposed skin. I shiver lightly. “Shit, I didn’t dress for the weather.”
“You never do.” Wylder pulls his hand from mine, and I frown. It quickly disappears as a weight appears on my shoulders. Citrus and something that reminds me of rain-soaked forest fill my nose as his scent surrounds me. “Is that better?”
“Yes.” I smile gratefully, pulling his jacket tighter. I put my arms into the sleeves and begin to roll one up several times. Wylder sees what I’m doing and steps in to do the other for me.
I’m in fucking trouble.
My heart aches at the easy consideration he offers me. Is this what it’s like to have someone care about you?
I don’t like it. It’s too scary. Too dangerous.
Too addictive.
I push the fear away. “Won’t you be cold?”
“I have a sweater too. I’ll be fine.”
He gives me a wry smile, and my heart hammers in my chest. Fuck, he’s even more handsome with his glasses on. I never should’ve insisted he wear them. This whole date was a terrible idea.
This is completely wretched.
We start to walk through the chilly evening. I’m so distracted by these pesky…feelings that I latch on to the first conversation topic that pops into my head. “What was it like growing up with your dad? I mean, I know he was shitty from what you’ve said, but, like…what was it like?”
Wylder’s taken so off guard by my question that he stumbles over thin air. “What?”
“Your childhood,” I elaborate. “I always figured growing up with a family must be better than growing up without one, but with some of the stories I’ve heard about your father, I’m not sure that’s true.”
It’s not just the stories that imply that, but Wylder himself, and to a lesser extent, his brothers.
Cade’s a loose cannon. Samson rarely smiles.
Dalton cheats and tricks his way through life.
Matthias spent years pining after his former best friend rather than just having a conversation.
Harley won’t make a move on a man he’s clearly in love with.
All these men are deeply flawed. If I had any money, I’d bet it all on their childhood having made them that way. But none of them are as buttoned up as Wylder. None of them shoulder the responsibility the way he does.
I wonder why that is.
Wylder is quiet as he stares at the night sky. “No one’s ever asked about my childhood before.”
“No one? Not even your girlfriends?”
I try not to feel angry about those Wylder has been with in the past. Even if he were mine, I’d have no right to feel jealous or possessive. He can’t change what came before me.
Anyway, he’s not mine, so it shouldn’t even matter.
I wish that knowledge made a difference.
Wylder chuckles. It’s a low rumble in his chest that I feel all the way to my knees. “Certainly not. All they cared about was that I took them to the right events and looked good on their arm.”
My nose wrinkles. “Why bother with something so…superficial?”
He considers his answer before he speaks.
“Because I’ve never needed anything more than superficial.
I’ve never longed for someone the way Matthias longed for Wyatt.
Never lost my mind like Cade did when he thought Ansel was gone for good.
I haven’t flirted shamelessly like Harley, or even worried about someone as Dalton does for Jackson. I’m not sure I’m capable of it.”
I close my eyes briefly. With every word he just said, Wylder confirmed why this will never work. I need to be needed. Longed for. Flirted with. Worried about.
I need to be loved. I’ve never had it before, but it sounds so nice.
I won’t get it from Wylder though. The sooner I wrap my head around that, the better.
“As for passion—” He sounds the word out like it’s foreign. “—I’ve definitely never felt that.”
“Okay, now that one I know is a lie.”
He glances over at me. “How?”
I arch my brows. “Do I need to remind you how you fisted my hair while I was between your thighs? How you made me take it? Called me your good boy? You think that’s not passion?”
“That’s different.” There’s a blush on his high cheekbones. “It’s different.”
“How so?”
“Because it’s you,” he says simply. “That wasn’t passion. It was…punishment.”
His dagger might be sheathed, but he may as well have plunged it through my heart. I don’t let any of it show on my face, keeping my voice light and teasing. “Remind me to be naughty more often, then.”
I pull my hand out of his with a fake shiver, tucking it inside Wylder’s jacket. “Brr. It really is cold.”
Wylder flexes his fingers, frowning at where my hand disappeared. “Shall we head to the restaurant?”
I shake my head. I need a few more minutes to pull myself together. To remind myself that this isn’t a real date, that I can’t like Wylder, because he’ll never be mine. No one will. “Not yet.”
This time, I don’t try to fill the silence. Instead, I let the feelings overwhelm me. They drag me into their icy depths, attempting to smother any hope or joy that they find lingering.
Then, unexpectedly, Wylder throws me a lifeline. “My childhood wasn’t always awful.”
Everything pauses as I latch on to Wylder’s words and the offering of truth he’s making. “No?”
“No,” he says softly. “Before my mother died, it was actually quite happy. Idyllic, even. My dad used to smile back then.” There’s a clicking noise as he swallows. “I think things would’ve been different if she’d lived.”
I hear the words he doesn’t say—I think I would’ve been different.
“I wish I could’ve met her,” I say impulsively. “I bet she was pretty special.”
A rare smile lifts his lips. “She was. She would’ve liked you.”
That has me laughing. “She’d probably ban me from her house, given all the mess I make.”
He shakes his head, his laughter mingling with mine. “No, she would’ve joined in. Mom loved pranks. She loved us.” Wylder blinks up at the stars. I don’t think I’m imagining the silver lining his eyes. “She loved me.”
My heart aches at that. They say it’s better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all, and I truly believed that when I was growing up.
But now? Looking at the grief on Wylder’s face? I have to wonder if I’m the lucky one after all.
We lapse into silence once more as we walk. The first time Wylder’s hand brushes against where my hand is fisted under the jacket, I think it’s accidental. The second time, I frown with suspicion.
With the third, I slip my hand free and entwine it with his.
His shoulders ease instantly. He doesn’t look at me, but the small tilt of his lips has my heart beating faster.
“I wonder what I would be like if I’d grown up with my parents,” I confess.
He’s just given me so much of himself that I want to offer something in return.
“I’m so needy now. I crave attention because I didn’t get any growing up.
I’m intelligent, but I’m not educated. I have no idea what to do with my life.
I’m not sure if I’ll ever know. I wish I did, though.
I wish I were different. Maybe people wouldn’t leave if I weren’t like this. ”
“I like you like this.” Wylder frowns. “That’s not why people have left you.”
“Because so many have stuck around.” I roll my eyes. “And as for you not wanting me to change? Please. Just a few weeks ago, you told me I’m making your life a misery, remember?”
“That was a few weeks ago,” he says, his tone clipped. “Things are different now.”
I stare at him like he’s grown another head. “Don’t lie. I still drive you crazy.”
“I’m not lying. You do drive me crazy.”
“So what are you saying?”
A muscle jumps in his jaw. “I’m saying that maybe I like you driving me crazy.”
I don’t let hope spark. Not even an ember. It’ll set me aflame and consume me if I do. “I’ll remind you of this next time I do something that makes you curse.”
“I’m sure you will.”
We come to a stop outside a funky retro diner. Wylder lifts his free hand toward the door. “Ready now?”
I nod, but the truth is, I’m not ready. At all. I’ve inadvertently put us on a road that’ll end with me getting my heart broken.
And I’ve got no idea how to stop it.
I’m in fucking trouble.