“I’m sorry, I should have given you space. It was fucking killing me knowing that you’ve assumed the worst from all of this. That you thought I didn’t care about you, that I would cheat on you. That I—”

  “You can’t cheat on me if we aren’t in a relationship, Ronan. We never were,” I cut off.

  His eyes fly up to mine, and what looks like hurt flashes across his face.

  “Bullshit. We were together. Just because we didn’t put a label on it doesn’t mean you weren’t mine and I wasn’t yours.”

  He pauses for a moment, as if he is trying to find the right words.

  “I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I allowed myself to be in a compromising position that made you question my loyalty to you. All I see is you, Skyla. No one else matters.”

  I want to believe him, so badly. That’s stupid though, right? This is what any man would say if he was caught with another woman, wouldn’t he? Yet, some part of me, however ignorant it may be, believes him.

  “So, what do you want?” I ask, doing my best to regain control of the conversation.

  “What do you mean?” Ronan asks.

  “I mean, what do you want? You explained yourself, I heard you out. Five minutes is up. What do you want?”

  He doesn’t speak for a while, instead he just stares at me. His breathing is ragged, and the tension is so thick between us even a knife wouldn’t do.

  Slowly, he begins making his way towards me, closing the remaining distance between us before my back is plastered against my door and his arms are braced above me.

  “You. I want you, Skyla. I’ll do whatever it takes. I’ll beg and plead, I’ll lay at your feet and kneel before you every day. Whatever you need, whatever you want, it’s yours. I would stop the earth on its axis for you.”

  “Why?” I ask softly, doing my best to battle the butterflies desperate to emerge at his declaration.

  He shakes his head softly, lifting his hand to cup my cheek as he does.

  “Because you’re worth it.”

  Despite my best efforts, my heart swells and my stomach flips. I want to be impervious to this man, so badly. He’s too old for me, he’s my fiancé’s uncle, and he’s involved in this fucked up society that my father is wrapped up in. Nothing about him or our situation is a good idea. Yet, the feeling of his skin on mine sends all rationale out the window leaving only my fuzzy, confused, head over heels emotions.

  “Do you still want me, Skyla? Do we still have a chance?”

  “You hurt me,” I say softly.

  His face crumples as he shakes his head.

  “I’m so sorry, baby. I would never betray you, ever. You have to know that. Know that right here,” he says, taking one of my hands and resting it against his heart. “This belongs to you, only you. I need you more than I need air in my lungs, or the feeling of water around me on a hard day. If you don’t want me though, I’ll understand and I’ll let you go.”

  Even though I think he believes his words, I don’t. They seem to physically hurt him just by uttering them. He may let me go physically, but I’m not sure he would emotionally. Why do I like that? How toxic am I? Are we? That the idea of him not being able to move on from me fills me with relief, instead of panic or fear like it should?

  “I want you,” I say softly.

  He doesn’t speak like I expected. Instead, he drops my hand and cups my face with both of his hands, holding me like I’m his most prized possession as he crushes his lips to mine. It’s been days since we’ve kissed, but it feels like years. Ronan’s lips move against me seamlessly, perfectly. It’s as easy as breathing, and it equally hurts and heals something inside me. God, I missed him.

  His hands slide beneath my legs, lifting me into the air. I wrap my thighs around him as he carries us deeper into my room, laying me down onto the bed without breaking our kiss. His kisses pepper against my skin, across my cheek and down my neck as his hands work on the button of my jeans quickly. When he opens them, he slips a hand inside, pausing almost instantly.

  “Where are your panties, baby?”

  I freeze at that, guilt instantly consuming me. Do I have anything to feel guilty about? Absolutely not. Do I still feel it, because I’ve kissed two men within twenty minutes of each other? Most definitely.

  When I don’t answer, he frowns. “Where were you tonight?”

  I wet my lips, doing my best to keep the guilt out of my tone. I didn’t do anything wrong, though the look on Ronan’s face is singing an entirely different tune.

  “With Liam.”

  His frown morphs into an entire scowl.

  “You were out with him, until one in the morning? And you came home with no panties?” he scoffs, like he can’t believe what he’s hearing.

  “You don’t get to speak to me this way,” I snap. “For all I knew, you were sunk inside Anika Wilson every day since I’d seen you two. We weren’t together. Don’t try to shame me for trying to move on, when you practically broke my heart.”

  The anger in his eyes is still there, but he takes several deep breaths before speaking.

  “You let him touch you?”

  “Yes,” I answer.

  “Did he fuck you?”

  “No.”

  He nods, breaking eye contact for a moment as he asks his next question.

  “Did you enjoy it?”

  I hesitate, only briefly, before being completely honest.

  “Yes.”

  His eyes close at that, something like resignation passing across his features, as he nods his head. He leans forward, pressing a kiss against my forehead that lasts for several seconds before he speaks against my skin.

  “I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to get upset with you. We’re together now, that’s what matters.”

  I go to respond when he stands up. My brows furrow together as I watch him move towards the door.

  “Where are you going?”

  He turns to look at me, a soft, not convincing at all smile on his face.

  “It’s late, you need to get some rest. I’ll come get you for breakfast in the morning, okay?”

  It takes me a second to respond as I slowly nod.

  “Okay.”

  A tight lipped smile is what I receive in return before he opens the door.

  “Sweet dreams, baby.”

  With that, he’s gone, and I’m left feeling worse than before. Maybe I should have lied and told him I didn’t enjoy it. That doesn’t make me feel good either, though. I had a good time with Liam, a great one honestly, and I shouldn’t have to apologize for that. Whatever, I’m sure Ronan just needs to go home and chill out. Things will be fine.

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Ronan

  Things are not fine. Not fucking fine in the least. It’s a good thing that Liam’s dorm is all the way on the other side of campus from Skyla’s, because two steps from the door I was ready to strangle the little fucker to death. Now, I’ll just settle for beating him to a bloody pulp.

  My fist beats against his door, practically rattling it off its hinges before I decide fuck it and use my master key. The door whirs open and I find Liam on his bed, cock in his hand and what I already know are Skyla’s panties lifted up to his nose.

  I. See. Red.

  “Ronan? Get the fuck out. I—”

  He can’t even finish his sentence before I’m flying across the room and my fist is driving into his face. I get two good hits into him before his nose explodes, blood instantly gushing down his face as he shouts.

  “What the fuck!”

  Liam quickly stuffs his worthless cock back into his pants, like he’s afraid I’m gonna rip it off.

  Tempting.

  He throws a few hits at me, but they don’t deter me. I continue laying into him, attempting to land any shot I can but now that he's no longer thinking with his dick, he’s hard to get a hold of. He wiggles out of my grasp and somehow manages to get my neck in a chokehold. My lungs are starved for air, but my anger fuels me as I fight and struggle against him.

  “Ronan, man. Calm the fuck down! Calm down!” he snarls.

  I want to seethe. I shouldn’t have to calm the fuck down, but my vision is beginning to spot and the room is starting to spin. I feel my body give up long before my mind is willing to. Unfortunately, I have no choice. I go limp in his hold, and he drops me instantly, allowing me to crash to the floor as I greedily take in breath after breath.

  “What the fuck was that about?” he snaps, lifting his shirt up and over his head, before using it as a makeshift rag to stop his nose from bleeding.

  “Heard you touched my girl. Finger fucked her did you?”

  He doesn’t smirk like I expect him to, doesn’t laugh or rub it in like he normally would. Instead, he almost seems pissed off, and not just because I interrupted his play time and blew up his nose.

  “Your girl? Don’t you mean your nephew’s?” he scoffs.

  “Or your best friend’s. However you want to call it,” I throw back.

  Liam raises his eyebrows, like he can’t argue with that, but he doesn’t respond.

  “Stay away from her, Liam. This is your only fucking warning,” I say, as I push myself to my feet. I’m impressed I don’t stumble a step as I head for the door.

  “No,” he says from behind me.

  I stop on a dime, spinning to face him as I cock my head to the side.

  “Excuse me? This wasn’t a yes or no option. You either stay the fuck away from her, or I kill you. Simple as that.”

  The little shit just shakes his head, his own pissed off expression splashed across his face.

  “I’m not going to stay away from her, not unless she asks me to. She’s special. I like her.”

  Rage ignites inside me once more, as I close the distance between us, coming up until our foreheads are practically smashed together.

  “Of course she’s special. She’s my fucking girlfriend.”

  “And Asher’s fiancée,” Liam challenges.

  I narrow my eyes at him.

  “What the fuck are you trying to say?”

  “I’m saying, in this world, our world, labels don’t mean shit. You don’t give a fuck about sneaking around with your nephew’s fianceé behind his back, so why the fuck should I care about openly pursuing your girlfriend,” he says, air quoting girlfriend in a way that personally fucking offends me.

  “And by openly you mean, for one hour before you’ll be buried in the Gallows Hill cemetery?”

  “That’s the one,” he agrees easily, as if we weren’t casually speaking about his impending murder.

  “What the fuck are you playing at? She isn’t one of your whores that you can play with and toss to the side.”

  “I know.”

  “Then what the fuck do you want with her?” I ask, fisting his shirt in my hands as I shake him.

  “The same thing you do,” he says simply. “This life we were born into is hard, all innocence, kindness and compassion was practically beaten out of us from birth. Not her though. She’s like a goddamn unicorn in our world, and everywhere around us there are people ready to slaughter her. I won’t let that happen.”

  My breathing is ragged and uneven, but I don’t speak as I mull over his words.

  “So, what? You’re telling me you don’t want her for yourself? You just want her wellbeing?” I ask.

  “Oh fuck no. I want her all to myself. If I thought I could get away with it, she’d already be in my car, and we’d be hundreds of miles away by morning. Unfortunately, that isn’t the reality we exist in. So, I’ll settle for stealing kisses when no one is looking and protecting her every time she turns her back.”

  “You won’t be stealing shit from her!” I seethe.

  He nods. “You’re right, because she would willingly give them to me.”

  That signature goading smirk is back, and fuck I want to beat his ass. Again. Dumb motherfucker. It’s like he wants to get the shit kicked out of him.

  Before I can tear into him anymore, the door is thrown open, and a stumbling Asher barrels his way inside. He snickers to himself, before crashing onto Liam’s king sized bed and rolling onto his back. Bright red lipstick is smeared across his lips and down his neck. It’s an orangey red that looks like it should only belong to strippers or prostitutes, not a daughter of the Brethren, whichever one Asher was with tonight.

  “Dids youz have fun with my virgin cunt?” Asher cackles, slurring so heavily we can barely understand him.

  Liam doesn’t respond as Asher continues.

  “Fuckk you, man. That’s was my cunt, my only reward for this shits life iz given,” he grumbles as his head moves to the side.

  “I didn’t fuck her,” Liam says evenly, while I watch my nephew in disappointment and a little bit of sadness.

  Those bloodshot brown eyes come to Liam, surprise is about the only emotion he’s probably able to display right now.

  “No shits? Youz never don’t fuck bitches when you go outs.”

  “It’s not like that, man. She was just trying to piss you off and you know how I like to rile you up,” Liam downplays, lamely.

  “Pfttt, tell her I don’t gives a fuck. You coulda fucked her for alls I care.”

  Liam and I share a yeah fucking right look, before we both move over to him. We wrap Asher’s arms around either of our shoulders before lifting him to stand, steadily walking him out of Liam’s room and across the hall to his own.

  Asher continues to mutter some incoherent shit as we get him into his room, rolling him onto his stomach so he doesn’t fucking choke on his own vomit. When he’s as good as a blacked out drunk person can be, we both make our way out of his room pausing in the hallway as we look at each other.

  “You lied,” I say simply.

  I don’t need to specify what he lied about, he knows and there are too many prying ears. Too many bugs in the halls, feral for any amount of information they could get on any of us. It’s hard enough keeping up on the sweeps around Skyla’s dorm and my own place. Hopefully Liam and Asher do their bug checks regularly like I taught them, otherwise we both won’t live to spend another day with her.

  “He doesn’t need to know,” he shrugs.

  “Why not?” I challenge.

  Liam gives a disappointed smile as he shakes his head.

  “Because no matter what happens, the outcome will remain the same.”

  His words are like a punch to the gut. I don’t want to believe him, but fuck, he’s got a point. No matter what I feel for Skyla, or her for me, the likelihood that I will have to sit back and watch her marry Asher is strong. Now, the chance of her having to watch me marry Annie could be just as likely, and somehow that’s worse. I can bury my feelings, be brave for the both of us, but if I have to marry another woman while she sits in the front row, her heart hurting on full display for me? Nah, that will fuck me up.

  “Just…keep her safe when I can’t. Okay?” I ask, sharing a look with him as I dare not to look around the hall and raise suspicion.

  Liam nods and I turn on my heel heading for the door. The only good thing that came out of this night is that Skyla is talking to me again. That we are together again, and this time, I’m not letting her go. Not until she’s pried from my cold severed fingers.

  Chapter Twenty Three

  Skyla

  I’m walking to my introduction to business class the next day. My new favorite morning drink is firmly in my hand when a pair of arms grab me, pulling me into a supply closet. Apple cider splashes across my arm before I lose my grip on it entirely, watching as it spills on the floor.

  I look up to see how huge this closet is. It’s bigger than you’d expect a closet to be, much like everything at this university, but it’s still only about six feet deep and four feet wide. There are shelves of cleaning supplies and maintenance tools as well as Liam and Ronan.

  Liam unwinds his arms from around my waist before pressing a chaste kiss against my lips. For half a second, I lean into the gesture before I remember where we are, who is in front of us and everything that came with last night. Ripping myself away from him, my eyes come up to Ronan, waiting for his anger or chastising. Instead, he is stoic, his watchful eyes on the two of us.

  “What’s going on?” I ask softly, as my eyes bounce between the two of them.

  I look up at Ronan to see some red marks around his neck.

  “Oh my god! What happened?”

  “You like him,” Ronan says stiffly, dodging my question completely.

  It doesn’t sound like a question, though I’m not sure it’s a statement either. Maybe a verification of sorts? Maybe it is his way of asking, but he’s so damn direct it’s hard to tell.

  “I—”

  The words die on my tongue. To be honest, Liam is kind of obnoxious, and half the time he’s practically Asher’s little lap dog. He’s slept with half the population of this university, and I’m not so sure that would stop just because I confessed that I may have felt a spark there last night. Liam seems to be able to understand my hesitancy as he gains my attention.

  “I like you, babygirl. I want more nights like last night, I want your days too. I want you.”

  A rush of butterflies take flight inside me as his light green eyes latch onto mine, not letting me go for seemingly anything.

  “What about Asher?” I find myself asking.

  Liam’s smile doesn’t budge, even for a second as he lifts a hand up, his thumb brushing against the outline of my mouth.

  “What about him? If he’s not going to recognize what a perfect diamond was laid before his feet, I’m certainly not going to pass it up. You deserve to be taken care of, treasured. He’s so unworthy of you, it’s unreal. I just hope that my dumbass hasn’t earned the same fate,” he says, with a slight crook of his head. As if he were testing the waters with that last part.

  My eyes come to Ronan, who apparently hasn’t looked away since I was pulled into this closet. My eyes are asking him a million questions and thankfully, he speaks.

  “It’s okay, if you want to be with him. It would be easier, at least for the time being.”

  I frown at that, taking a step away from Liam until I’m pressed against Ronan. I have to look up to maintain eye contact as I shake my head.

 

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