Page 163 of Dance With A Devil

“Mama, this is Ryan and Fred. My, uh, my ride or die degenerates. They dragged my ass here when I was ready to keep running.”

“Well then, I owe you two a thank you,” my mother says, stepping aside. “Come on in. Let’s stop bleeding on the porch.”

Inside, the place is different. Cleaned. Rebuilt. A graveyard with new paint.

“What the hell happened in here?” I ask, voice tight.

“Your sister and I thought it was time for a change.” That word slaps me in the face.Sister.

“Wait,” Fred says with a fake-ass gasp, “You have a sister?!”

I glare at her. “Fred, I can’t even remember what I wore yesterday.”

“Let’s pretend you never told us,” Ryan chimes in with a smirk, just as Gaia slips into the room.

Her eyes avoid mine like I’m poison. And maybe I am.

“Hey. I’m Gaia. Just grabbing some water.” She makes a beeline for the fridge. I block her path.

“Gaia… can we talk?”

“There’s nothing to say.” Her voice is so small it cuts deeper than any scream.

“Gaia, I’m fucking sorry.” The words rush out, raw and broken. “I handled it like a coward, and if I could redo it all, I would.”

“Cool,” she says flatly. “Turns out I’m not thirsty anymore.” She spins on her heel. “I’ll be in my room, Josie.”

As her footsteps vanish upstairs, I drop my head into my hands. “I fucked that up.”

“No shit,” Ryan says.

“Ryan!” Fred slaps her arm.

“What? Sheknows!But that’s the thing about fuckups, they’re a setup for redemption.” She narrows her eyes at me. “So get your thick-ass upstairs, fix it, then get your shit right with your mom.”

“She’s not wrong,” Fred adds.

I let out a breath, walk over, and wrap my arms around Ryan like she just dragged me from a burning building.

“You need a hug or some dick.”

“Don’t change the subject.” She smirks. “Fix it, devil girl.”

I head upstairs. Gaia’s door is cracked just enough for me to see her curled in the bay window, knees up, chin tucked.

Her hair falls in loose waves, black with streaks of midnight, just like mine. Her nose, the slant of her jaw, those gray eyes. All mine.

Or maybe… all hers.

“You’re the spitting image of me,” I say softly. “Not a carbon copy. Just enough to see the truth I refused to look at.”

She doesn’t respond.

I step in, close the door, and cross the room.

“I was scared, Gaia. Betrayed. And I let that fear drown the people who never stopped loving me. That’s on me. Not you.Not Mama. And if I had one bullet left, it’d be for Bash… or my father. They built the walls. I just lived in them.”

She’s still silent. Still hurting.