Page 26 of Gravehouse

“Will you be honest with me if I ask you questions?”

I trace the stem of my glass. “Depends.”

Atlas leans into my ear again, his voice tight. “Do you think she’s beautiful?”

He doesn’t have to say her name. There isn’t a single other person here he’d be referring to.

I finally allow myself to look at them. “I think she is.”

He squeezes my waist gently and I bite my bottom lip when I reconsider our earlier conversation. Alcohol is really not my friend right now. Jesus.

“But are you known to see the best in people despite their obvious red flags?”

I bark out a laugh. “I would say I’m the opposite.”

Camille’s cackle at whatever Asher just said to her kills mine instantly.

I keep talking because it’s a better distraction than murder. “I would say I purposely see the worst in people, because humans are fucking disappointing.”

My grip tightens around the stem. “And in turn, it makes them easier to kill.”

I let go and stand. I need air, silence, and a glass of water. “Don’t follow me.”

I spend the rest of the night mingling amongst people I have no idea who they are and dodging Asher and Camille. Camille isn’t so hard, since she’s doing everything she can to pretend I don’t exist.

Rustling through my clutch, I pull out my packet of cigarettes and zippo.

Ah. Sweet, sweet dirty habit…

Embers sizzle with each inhale as I dump everything back into my clutch and grab my phone—static prickles over my skin, locking me in place.

I inhale deeper than I mean to and nicotine punches my chest. “I’m beginning to think it was Atlas who spent time with me and not you.”

Ironic, really. I spent a massive chunk of my life avoiding any form of spotlight, yet the second I met Asher, I made every excuse why it wasn’t a big deal that it’s the centre of his.

His arm brushes mine and I’ve never sucked on a cigarette faster.

“Mmm. That’d be too perfect for you.”

Fuck it.

“What am I doing here?” I flick the cigarette and stomp on it, keeping my eyes on him. “If you want revenge, I’ll give it to you. Fucking take it!”

A hollow laugh slips from his chest, catching me off guard because it sounds so close to the man he used to be. Almost. It dies in his throat before I can obsess over it.

“Look at me,” he says, voice rough.

I lock onto the distant crash of the waves. “I kind of don’t want to.”

“Why?” He lowers his voice but doesn’t soften it. I’ll never make the mistake of confusing the two again.

He probably hates me even more because I killed his damn friend. A friendship I never asked about.

“Because it hurts.” Every time I’m around him, I fail. I fail to keep myself behind the concrete wall I spent so long building.

One thing is for certain, love wasn’t built for me. The second I felt it, I put a bullet in it. Now he’s here, standing in front of me as the shadow of the man he once was, and it’s my own fault.

With a finger beneath my chin, he guides my eyes up to his.