Page 28 of The Monster I Am
“Problems of the rich and infamous,” she mumbles, amused. “But what’s the actual emergency, then?”
Letting out a deep breath, I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I got the notification that the footage was accessed.”
Bexley’s eyes widen. “That’s great! We need to check it,” she says impatiently, taking a step toward the computer.
I grab her wrist, stopping her. “It’s been deleted.”
It’s like watching a scene from a horror movie. Bexley pivots in slow motion, a dark, murderous look on her face. “You better not have said what I thought you did.”
“Believe me, I value my bits, so you can imagine how incredibly fearful this is for my balls right now.”
Her face falls. “Those fuckers. I knew it.”
“We’ll get them. Don’t worry,” I say comfortingly, pulling her in for a hug. Bexley relaxes against me, resting her head on my chest.
It’s nice just holding her, offering a silent gesture of support. Leaning down, I gently grasp her chin, unable to resist the urge to kiss her.
“Okay, you’re lucky. I found one tube of toner—”
Both of us swing our heads toward the now open door, Soph’s words turn into a high-pitched choking sound as she takes in our embrace. There’s no way she didn’t see the kiss. Fuck. Of course, it wouldn’t be the Beckett residence without chaos. Is it too much to ask for some privacy? Why wasn’t I an only child?
Slow blinks. A drizzle of confusion. Raised eyebrows.
“Apparently, you’re already being toned down by Bex,” she mumbles, slowly backing out of the room and closing the door behind her.
After school the next day, Bexley summons all of us for a meeting. Surprisingly, H shows his face—though, still looking like he’s battling severe constipation or some other painful ailment.
Well, that’s what I think he looks like when he’s ready to convulse and explode with whatever is happening inside his brain.
I have no idea what the hell was up with him on Friday night. Though, if I had to count all the bizarre encounters lately, I’d probably need to purchase an abacus.
Look—I get it. He nearly died. We’re all feeling fucked up from that night. And it doesn’t help that our fathers are breathing down our necks every chance we get. I’m just thankful it was Soph that busted me kissing Bex and not Dad. I should really be more cautious.
I suppose I understand Hunter’s frustration. We’re meant to be keeping a low profile, but every time we take a step forward, we’re cannonballed two steps back. The growing pressure is weighing all of us down, and it’s clear we’re dealing with something bigger than we expected.
I can’t imagine what he must be experiencing. He’s made it clear from the start how he feels about Bexley, and while I no longer share those same feelings, no one can understand what they went through.
We nearly lost both of them. I guess I just expected things to be a little different. Trauma bonding or some shit. If anything, Hunter seems to fucking resent Bex even more since that night. He was already a ticking time bomb, pissed that Rylan and I had entered into some throuple situation.
Retract that. Definitely not a throuple. I love Rylan like he’s my own brother—I mean, at least he doesn’t try to maim me like someone else I know—but I have no desire to touch his salty nuts.
I can appreciate a handsome man. Just look at Henry Cavill. That man could stroke his self-built computer and tell me to run ten miles, and I’d say,“It would be my pleasure.” But I draw the line at banging Rylan. Fairly certain thatwouldgive Hunter a heart attack.
I’d happily high-five the fucker over Bexley’s contorted sex-pretzel body, though.
What would you call us? Probably a trio of carnage.
“Sorry I’m late,” comes a somewhat familiar voice from the doorway.
We’re in Bexley’s house, much to all of our surprise. I was a bit taken aback when she offered to have us all here, but now thathe’sarrived, it makes sense. The library will start getting a bit risky if we use it too often, and we all know our houses are becoming off-limits with the looming presence of fatherly nightmares.
“Arch, come in!” Bexley greets, motioning him into the living room. “Was Abs okay?”
He nods. “It went as well as you’d expect.”
Bexley pulls a disgruntled face, and when she catches my look of confusion, she explains, “Abby approached the cheerleaders to see if the Cedar girls could practice with them.”
“Oh,” I reply slowly. “Shit.”
