Page 107 of The Truths We Burn

I know there’s no way to mend what had been broken between the two of us—the damage had been done. But I’m tired of pretending to hate him, even if he truly does despise me.

I’m still angry that I never got more of him, and I’d given him all of me. But I don’t hate him. I never did.

There isn’t any way I could.

For a long time, I thought hating him would be easier. It was a way to keep his fire close to my heart. A way for me to avoid mourning the loss of him, of us. Now, I’m just too tired to fake it. To fake anything.

I don’t want to be at each other’s throats the entire time I’m involved, especially considering he’s still adamant about keeping what we were from his friends.

I sigh heavily and walk to the edge of the stage, where I drop down into a sitting position. My legs dangle over the side, and I rub my hands up and down my thighs before I say,“What do you need to hear from me, Rook? What do I need to say so that this is as painless as possible?”

He pulls the blunt from his mouth, wetting his dry mouth with his tongue. “Nothing between us will ever be painless, Sage.” His eyes burn me. “But you could start by telling me who that was you were talking to before you came in here.”

I scoff, shaking my head. “Stalking me now?” I arch my eyebrow in question.

“No, I happened to be around. I just find it suspicious that you show back up here, magically released from a psych ward that your father put you in.” He blows a smoke ring in my direction, tilting his head. “Now you’re chatting it up with two guys who look a lot like feds.”

I think about telling him, right now, but even if I did, he wouldn’t believe me. I think he would believe that story less than the lie I’m about to tell. Anything and everything I tell Rook Van Doren will never be taken as the truth.

Ever again.

“They’re friends of my father’s. I think they’re on the board here. We just ran into each other, and they said hello. Is that alright with you? Am I allowed to say hello to people? Or are you just jealous?”

I shouldn’t be so snarky towards him, not when I know why he’s asking, but I can’t help it. I can’t help but test this irrational theory that his asking stems from some form of jealousy.

He tongues his cheek, breathing deeply through his nose as he steps a little closer to me. His body brushes against my kneecaps.

“Jealous? Of what exactly? A girl I used to fuck? If that were the case, I’d be jealous of just about every female on campus.”

Through the haze of the smoke, I see his irises.

Hellfire eyes.

So fucking bright and always burning.

It makes his comment prick even more. Knowing he’s looked at other girls with those eyes, been inside of them, and more than that, they’ve touched him. That makes me ill.

Thinking of them running their fingers across his collarbone and asking where he got that scar. I wonder if he tells them the truth.

That at one point he thought we were soul mates and tried to force fate into agreeing with us. That there’s a matching one on a girl he used to care about.

“Well, if that’s all, then you can leave. I answered your question.” I press my hands into the floor, ready to push myself up so I can grab my things, but he brings me to a halt.

His palm snaps against my thigh, fingers hooking through my dress and sinking into my skin. I gasp at how high up he is, his middle finger brushing the inner portion of my naked thigh beneath my dress.

Dangerously close to a place he hasn’t touched in nearly a year.

“I’ll leave when I want, and you’ll leave when I tell you to, yeah?” He tightens his jaw, laying the faded blunt beside me. “I came here to let you know that I’m watching you.”

“You watch all the girls you’ve fucked?”

“Just the ones who are a threat to my family.”

There is an indescribable throbbing in my chest. I wrecked him so fucking hard that he genuinely believes I would do something to hurt his friends. When he says family, he is referring to the guys. They are the only family he has ever known.

And I’m a danger to them.

“Rook—”