Page 64 of The Monster I Am
Her brows furrow. “If they are the mean ones then why do bad things happen to good people?”
Shit. Her question is rather deep, catching me off guard.
“I guess environment can influence it a lot,” I answer. “They have power at Willowbrook, probably one of the few places they do. They do it because they can. They know they can get away with it.”
Peyton nods. “That’s true, I guess. Aren’t you worried about getting in trouble for leaving?”
“Nah. I’ve got some friends covering today,” I grin to myself, holding back a laugh as Principal Samson and Mr. Martin spring to mind. “Will you get in trouble?”
“Dean Lannister is my uncle,” she replies quietly. “But I don’t think anyone will notice that I’m gone. They never do.”
A chill rolls through me at her admission, deeply unsettling me. “I don’t think that’s true,” I say softly, pausing. “Hunter’s your cousin?”
She smiles bittersweetly. “If I say yes, will you hold it against me?”
I snort out loud, wondering if I should tell her and whether I could make her laugh. “No,” I promise. “It’s just a little surprising.”
Peyton shifts positions, dropping her legs to stretch them out in front of her. “He’s not a bad person,” she says slowly, clearly somewhat doubting her own admission. “He just makes really dumb decisions.”
We chat for a little longer—albeit I keep my secret to myself. Though, I am a little sneaky, texting Steele to meet us at the beach. What’s one more missing student?
I know I’ve made the right decision when he arrives, Peyton’s face lighting up as he walks over to us.
“I’m going to head back,” I tell them, excusing myself from becoming the third wheel as I hand over the reins to my friend. “But I’ll make sure you’re covered. If you want to talk anytime, ask Steele to give you my number. Don’t let anyone ruin your sparkle, Peyton. They aren’t worth it.”
Chapter twenty
Rylan
I’m sipping a glass of scotch when the notification comes through on my phone that there’s movement near the front door.
Admittedly, I installed it after Bex caught me off guard when she stormed in here after her mom died. I have no qualms with her barging in and throwing herself at me again, but I realized other people could—like Olivia. And I’d rather avoid that disaster.
Pulling up the camera, I smile as Bex walks up the steps, hesitating at the door. Watching, I wait to see if she lets herself in since she knows the code.
A laugh bubbles out when she opts to ring the doorbell like a normal guest, clearly remembering the last time as well.
I exit the camera feed and send her a quick text, telling her to just come in.
By the time I’ve left my room and wandered downstairs, Bex is standing in the foyer with a smile on her face.
“Afraid to burst in again?” I tease.
“More like avoiding your father,” she mumbles, obviously deflecting since I already told her earlier he wasn’t here. Stubborn woman.
I cross the floor when I reach the bottom, pulling her flush against me. She melts into my frame, leaning up on her toes to bring our lips together.
Fuck. She tastes and feels so good. It should kill me how much I’ve grown to detest her absence, but I find that I don’t care.
I hate that we’re in this predicament. The ridiculous feud continues to rear its ugly head, reminding all of us that there might be no happy ending when everything is said and done.
I won’t let that happen though. I’d rather lose everything if it means I get to keep her.
Despite all odds, against the legacies engrained in us, Bexley made my world seem a little less lonely. She saw me—the real version—when no one else cared. To them, I was just a leader, expected to do my job and be at everyone’s beck and call.
I was deemed selfish if I wanted to do something for myself. Or ridiculed when I failed to live up to my father’s standards. But where they saw fault, Bexley saw strength and a real person. It’s how she was able to bring us down—the walls we built were made with the bricks of others. But hers? Those walls were created through tenacity, authenticity, and determination to prove and show her worth. They are designed to weather the worst storms… because she’d already survived them.
“I heard what happened,” I say, pulling back with reluctance. “Just say the word and I’ll have Perkins dealt with.”
