Page 65 of Deceptive Games

“I could see if Skeet’s guy can?” she offered without hesitation, the thought making me feel sick. I didn’t want them questioning me.

“I can’t,” I choked out, tears burning my eyes as panic filled me. “They can’t know.”

“I’ve got you,” she promised, not giving a fuck about the blood as she hugged me tightly, giving me something to hold onto for five seconds so I could get my shit together.

I didn’t want the Psychos knowing anything about me, but maybe I could pay Skeeter to keep his mouth shut if I let him do it?

“Can Skeet do it and keep his mouth shut?” I asked as I stepped back, making her nod.

“I’ll make sure he keeps it to himself. He seemed worried about you when I left.”

That was almost laughable.

“Okay. Tell him to come over then,” I said before I could change my mind, going back to pacing as she eyed me warily. I probably looked crazy. Hell, Iwasfucking crazy.

I fisted my hair and Rory gently pulled my hand away as she called Skeeter, nausea swimming through me at the thought of him witnessing this. I was weak, and he was the complete opposite.

Rory grabbed a towel and pressed it against my arm, motioning for me to keep it there.

“I need you. Can you come alone?” Rory asked the second Skeeter must have answered, only pausing for a moment before she sighed. “No. Bring a medical kit if you can. Discreetly.”

I slid down the wall to my ass, shame and embarrassment filling me more at knowing he was coming. He’d never let me live this down. He’d always thought I was a little bitch, and I was starting to think he was right.

Rory sat beside me once she’d finished the call, and I let her take my hand as she gave it a squeeze.

“You want to tell me what happened?”

A shaky breath left me, and I stared at the wall across the room, speaking around the lump in my throat. “I can’t keep doing this. It gets worse every time. I don’t know how to fix myself.”

“You don’t need to fix yourself, there’s nothing wrong with you,” she scolded gently, kissing my shoulder. “Is this about your mom?”

“Mom’s right. I’m fucked up. I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking with Jense, but?—”

“I don’t care if this offends you, but your mom’s a fucking bitch. She’s the one fucking with your head. You and Jense were exploring mutual feelings and that’s all there is to it. There’s nothing wrong with those feelings, you just think there is because she’s told you so. Her word isn’t law, Luke. You can still get married and have a family with a guy, and you can kiss whoever you want,” she said tensely.

“No, I can’t,” I snapped, a snort leaving her.

“What happens if you do? Your mom disowns you? Sounds like a reason to kiss boys if you ask me. I know you love her, but just because she’s your parent, doesn’t mean you owe her shit. You hate Max because of what he did to me, right? I hate your mom because of how she treats you. You’re not a pawn or a way to climb the social ladder. You don’t have to marry some richbitch and have a fancy job. You can kiss guys, live in a cardboard box, and flip burgers for a living like me. It’ll be fun, trust me.”

“You’re going further in life than flipping burgers and living in a cardboard box,” I murmured, a soft smile tugging at her lips.

“Only if you’re with me. If you’re not there, then I don’t want it.”

We were quiet for a while until I heard Caden’s car outside, and I must have jerked because Rory patted my arm as she stood. “It’s Skeet. He’s got Caden’s car today. I’ll go and let him in.”

I didn’t care to ask why he had Caden’s car, I just nodded, watching her leave the room before blowing out a breath and pulling the towel back to glance down at my arm. I was still bleeding, but it had slowed a lot, the angry red slices glaring back at me.

This was a dumb idea, I should’ve just jumped out the fucking window. I still had time, but then Rory would see my mangled body in the driveway.

I’d caused her enough pain, so I couldn’t do that to her.

Quiet voices reached me from the hallway, and I braced as Skeeter appeared in the doorway. He studied me for a second before holding my gaze, his eyes emotionless.

“So, you want to fucking die?”

“Skeet!” Rory snapped, but he ignored her, stepping into the room and placing a small medical bag on the sink before pulling his gun out and aiming it at me.

“Did you write a note? I’ll make sure Karen gets it.”