“Lo,” Ryke says, his tone warning. But his voice sends razorblades down my back. “Don’t you even fucking speak to me,” I snap. I hate him right now. I hate me, most of all. I hate that I just bitched out Daisy, who didn’t really do anything wrong. At least, nothing that warranted my harsh words. The remorse tastes like acid, and I usually drown it with whiskey. My next breath comes out ragged and Ryke focuses on me for a long moment. But when Daisy inhales strongly, staring at the sand with tears brimming, trying to bottle her emotions, he turns his gaze on her. I watch his face change. If he
...more
OH
