Page 17 of Her Wicked Knights (Their Hallowed Queen #3)

Tripp

My heart has always belonged to her. She doesn’t realize it, of course, which makes for a really shitty predicament.

I don’t know where she keeps it— tucked in the pages of a book like a pressed flower she’s forgotten but finds beauty in when she rediscovers it?

Shoved in a box in the back of her closet, buried under old clothes meant for the donation bin?

Or perhaps she keeps it under her pillow, so that it’s close to her when she’s at her most vulnerable.

I doubt that any of those are true, honestly.

It’s more likely that she accidentally left it to shrivel up in some dark corner, forgetting all about its presence until the day she inevitably stumbles across it only to realize it doesn’t even faintly resemble what it used to be.

We’ve both changed in our own ways, but I don’t think she’s suffering as greatly as I.

They say the fool who loves more has more to lose, and they’re not wrong.

Before her new best friend came along and stole her away from me, I loved her harder in every possible way.

Of course, I did a good job hiding it… at least from her.

I am pretty sure Marley Lavigne is the only person in town who hasn’t realized that I am hopelessly in love with her.

How could I not be? She was my best friend.

When the other boys in the neighborhood inevitably paired off and she was left standing alone, I was more than happy to have the time with her to myself.

They didn’t realize back then how funny she was, how kind, how smart.

Just sitting next to her talking about what we would do if we were sucked into the middle of a fairy tale with dragons and sorcerers could entertain us for hours.

I can still be entertained for hours, just watching her. And I am aware of how that sounds… crazy, obsessive, pathetic. I may be all of the above. She makes me that way.

But I can’t watch her when she’s with Audrey.

I can’t watch her pretend to be someone she’s not, as if the persona that her new best friend makes her adopt is somehow better than the multi-faceted girl she’s always been.

It’s not, which is why I can’t sit here any longer.

I stand to go, pushing my beer across the table for whoever wants to finish it off.

Rev’s eyes lock with mine, and in that way he has about him, he seems to understand exactly what I’m thinking.

“Don’t go already.” He calls over the throngs of people, walking toward me with a grin. Rev’s always lighthearted, like the world is one big joke. Maybe it is.

“I need something stronger than what they’ve got here.” I tell him, gesturing to the kitchen with the keg set up on the counter. It’s also where Marley is standing next to Jake and Audrey.

She’s got her hair back in a ponytail, the curls cascading down her back as she laughs at something that one of them said.

The three of them often exist in their own bubble, gravitating toward one another even when they’re with the rest of us.

It’s weird, truly, how much Jake is there with them and vice versa.

To an outsider, it probably looks like they’re all in a relationship with one another, given that the lines sometimes look blurry.

“Hmm.” Rev’s jaw tightens as he takes them in, and then he turns back to me, grinning again. “I have something stronger.”

I don’t bother to ask what it is or where he’s taking me.

We’re at Audrey’s aunt’s house on the vineyard, so I doubt Rev has a personal stash here.

But if it gets me away from them, I’ll follow him anywhere.

And I do, through the throng of teenagers on the precipice of adulthood, desperate to get their last chance at freedom before our senior year turns serious.

When he leads me out to the beach, I’m immediately relieved to be away from the noise, the smell of weed and beer, the chaos.

I take a breath, letting the cool air wafting off of the water ease the tension in my spine.

I notice him watching me out of the corner of his eye, thoughtful, but when I lift a brow with the unasked question, he shakes his head and steps in front of me, hitting my shoulder on the way just hard enough to know it was intentional.

“Mark,” Rev calls, nodding at a senior I recognize from the football team.

It’s probably why Colton is sitting next to him with his back pressed against the Adirondack chair and his chin tilted up like he’s bored.

A red plastic cup balances on the arm rest, his fingers not even wrapped around it to hold it in place.

I know him well enough to know he’s got to be teetering on the edge of drunk.

He handles it well, considering he’s been drinking since he was thirteen and his dad died.

Mark Holland stands up, flashing a grin at Rev as he pulls him in for one of those weird half-hug things guys do when they’re trying to act too manly for a real hug.

I shove my hands in my pockets, making it clear I won’t be touching him, and nod my greeting as his eyes take me in.

“You dressed as a computer hacker?” He teases.

I’m not the only person here who didn’t come in costume.

The baseball cap is my usual attire, a way of ignoring my crazy hair, and the hoodie is just because it’s October on the coast. And I’d rather be here in my birthday suit than wearing my football uniform as a ‘costume’.

Not that I have a football uniform… that’s not my thing.

“Something like that,” I tell him drily, noticing Colton’s smirk. As much as he seems to dislike Mark, he still entertains his company. I don’t get it.

“We need something a little more than lager.” Rev explains, dropping into the empty chair across from Mark, right in the middle of two of his cronies.

I recognize them as well—it’s hard not to recognize people who seem to think the world belonged to them.

Carson Something and Nick Whatever. I don’t care to remember anything else about them.

“You’ve come to the right group.” Mark winks.

“Pick your poison.” He gestures to an old gym bag on the ground.

“I’ve got Mary Jane, Molly, and Peyote. I don’t fuck with Crystal…

the bitch doesn’t let go once she gets her hooks in you.

And if you don’t want one of the ladies,” His eyes traipse over me slowly, “I’ve got Jack, Jim, Jose… ”

His innuendo isn’t hard to miss. Axel was a known ladies’ man, and I’ve never been seen so much as kissing a girl. They think I’m not into girls, which is as true as it is false.

I’m not into girls, because I’m into one girl.

And it’s so pathetic, I’d rather them just think what they want about my sexuality. I’m not opposed to being with a man, as long as I actually feel something for him. Meaningless sex isn’t my thing, though I know Colton’s standards aren’t the same.

I laugh with him, not letting him see that I’m actually mildly impressed by the fact that he alphabetized his selections. I bend down, grabbing the neck of one of the bottles and holding it up to the firelight to inspect the label. Tequila. I guess it will have to do.

Colton laughs when I uncap the bottle and tip it against my lips, but his laughter stops by the time I pull it away and wipe the back of my hand over my mouth.

The liquor has lit a path to my stomach, and I suspect in a matter of moments, it will be warming my veins as well.

He didn’t expect me to take such a large swig right off the bat, and now that I have, I can feel their eyes on me as I let the bottle hang at my side.

I drop into the last empty chair and watch the fire before me, leaving Rev to perch on the edge of my seat as he looks among everyone.

“Thirsty, Tripp?” Colton asks. I can feel his eyes on me.

I know he’s prying. He can tell something is up, and if he just walks back into that kitchen, I’m sure he’d be able to put two and two together.

I’m not known for being dramatic, usually I am happy in my little bubble.

But I’m always so influenced when it comes to her.

“Just trying to numb the pain,” I shrug honestly. “You know all about that, don’t you?”

Colton laughs, Mark’s friends snigger, and he rubs his palms together, eager for a fight. He won’t get one. “I can help with that.”

I turn to face the newcomer, expecting some half-dressed girl in a slutty bunny costume to come sauntering forward.

Instead, I’m facing a man who I’d imagine looks like the devil in disguise.

He’s got high cheekbones and slanted brows that make his blue eyes look cold and calculating and I decide right away that I don’t enjoy the feel of them on me.

“All you have to do is send the pain somewhere else.” He smirks a little, stopping right in front of me.

It’s hard to tell without rising, but I’d guess he’s probably a good couple inches shorter than me—most people are.

I also get the sense he’s trying to size me up.

“What do you think I’m doing?” I roll my eyes, taking another swig of the tequila, the taste less jarring this time. Rev chuckles, watching the exchange with unveiled interest.

“If you give yourself a physical stimuli to focus on, I guarantee you’ll forget all about whatever is going on in that pretty little head.”

I stare at the stranger, trying to get a read on him. I don’t know who this guy is, where he came from, or what he’s doing here.

I can’t tell if he’s flirting with me or fucking with me… until a peal of laughter erupts from his chest and he steps back toward the bonfire in the center of the ring we’ve made with our chairs.

Laughter joins his, but it doesn’t come from Rev or Colton, both of whom watch him with mild curiosity.

“Pleasure works, too.” He offers, slowly appraising me. He winks before turning away and wrapping an arm around Mark’s neck and ruffling his hair obnoxiously, as if he wasn’t just borderline flirting with me.