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My mom was Sara Hale. My dad was Jonathan Hale. I was no one’s son.
So Loren had gone to the closer school, where I should have been, while I was banished and cast out.
I didn’t see a prick with a hundred friends and cash up to his chin. Not a jock, not an athlete like me. I saw a guy wanting to be punched, asking to feel that pain. I saw someone so fucking hurt and broken and sick.
I can’t explain why I love him so much. Maybe because he’s the only person who understands what it’s like to be manipulated by Jonathan for his gain. Or maybe because I know deep down there’s a soul that needs love more than anyone else, and I can’t help but reciprocate to the fullest degree.
He’s my last real friend. But I know that’s not entirely true. He’s the only real one I’ve ever had.
I left late because I was researching about Ambien, cognitive fucking therapy, other sleeping medication—anything to solve Daisy’s problem.
I wouldn’t. I fucking won’t. Because at the end of the day, if Daisy and I got together, if something happened and we broke up, I’d lose my brother.
“It’s okay if I don’t.” I’m surrounded by people I care about. That can be enough for me.
She’s beautiful because she can make the saddest person in the world grin. And she can make the loneliest guy feel something more. She’s youthful and wild. Primal and really fucking innocent. She’s all these things that scream big fucking risk.
“I tried breaking up with him,” I retort. “I even wrote him a letter. It went something like: Julian, I think we’re better as friends. Xoxo Daisy.”
But I think my health is the best when I’m with Ryke. Sleeping without him has been nearly impossible. I need the reassurance at night, the confidence of another person in order to sleep without fear.
“I napped.” “You don’t fucking nap,” he says. “I shut my eyes this afternoon. What do you call that?” “Shutting your fucking eyes,” he deadpans.
“Dais,” I say, coming around to her side of the bed. “I just fucking checked there.” I grab her pill bottle off the nightstand. I rest a knee on the mattress so I’m near her, and I block her view of the window. “Hey.” My heart starts to hammer.
“I’m scared to sleep,” she admits in a whisper. “I don’t want to have a nightmare.” Tears slide out of the creases of her eyes, too tired to hold them back. “But I’ll be scared all night if I stay awake. It sucks.”
“The entire world doesn’t have to love me,” he says, picking up his water again. “Only the ones that matter.” “That’s cute. Did you write that in your diary this morning?” “No, I read it from yours,” he banters.
Rose says, “You knew what you were getting into when you married me.” “A lifetime of challenges.” His lips rise. “Il n'y a rien de mieux.” There is nothing better.
“Fucking promise me.” “I fucking promise you,” she says.
I’ve been sleeping in the same bed as her. I’ve been taking care of her. She’s mine. She feels like she belongs to me. I don’t want to share her with any other fucking guy. And I don’t want to be with any other fucking girl.
But Daisy, a lonely, frightened girl in Paris, is going to trump Emilia. Every fucking time. Especially when it involves the past and the multiple events that have fucked her over psychologically.
And fuck that, when a guy assaults you, you’re allowed to have every moment to scream. You’re allowed to talk it out and ruin everyone’s week by burdening them with your emotions.
“Do you feel better?” I ask her. She doesn’t seem as paranoid or fucking antsy. “When I talk to you, yeah, I do.” “Then call me. I told you I wouldn’t fucking mind if you did.” “I didn’t want to bother you…the time difference…” “I’ll answer your call if it’s at four in the morning or midnight, Dais. It’s just fucking hard for me to call you because I don’t know when you’re on the runway.”
“I have to start heading over for hair and makeup. Call you later?” “I’ll answer.” For you, I always fucking will.
It’s in this moment—eighteen, being photographed bare and nude without consent—that I feel violated by my own career. I could be fifteen right now, okay with this, told that this is what’s supposed to happen. I could be fourteen. But what difference does it make now that I’m eighteen? I’m just more aware. I see the wrongness, and the blow strikes harder and hurts greater.
I don’t want to be here anymore. I just want to go home.
But I want to be the one to protect Daisy. I want to be the one to hold her in my arms. I want to comfort her until she reanimates in pure fucking happiness. I don’t want to miss a day with her. I don’t want to be here while she’s there.
“I flew in after you called me. I just fucking got here.”
no stop it!!
And then his lips meet mine, kissing me with abrupt, forceful passion that explodes my chest. A breathless moan leaves me before I can catch it.
“You don’t need to replace me. You can have me, sweetheart.”
Ryke Meadows has invigorated my body and soul. He is more than just my pillow. My wolf. My bodyguard. He’s my everything.
“I’ve ignored a lot of bad shit in my life, but I don’t want to ignore this one good thing anymore. It’s too painful.”
“I kissed you tonight because I want your lips to only touch mine. From now until forever. That’s the fucking truth.”
“She’s how she normally is,” Connor says vaguely. “Bitchy,” Lo clarifies. “High-strung, obsessive compulsive.” He smiles. “God, I’m so glad she didn’t come.”
“I’m going to sleep on the floor. It’s not a big deal.” “Of course. You probably feel at home lower to the ground,” Connor says with a growing smile.
“Those ten months when you moved back home—they drove me fucking insane.” “Why?” “It was ten months I couldn’t placate your anxiety, I couldn’t shield you from anything that came through your doors. I wasn’t a hallway away, not a floor, not a room. I was a half an hour from you, Dais.”
Ryke ignores his mom and dad like he’s trying to erase them from his life. Maybe it’s easier for him to just forget the past than be consumed by hurt and hate.
“It’s not a part I like to fucking remember, Daisy.” Being controlled by his mom, he means. I think he chooses to forget so much from his childhood that it’s made him into some shadowy figure that’s just as tormented as his brother.
All I wanted was a chance to undo what I had done wrong. To be there for him, to be his brother, and Lo makes it so fucking hard. He never gives me a reprieve like Connor.
This may be the worst night of my life. I failed the two people that matter most to me.
Sometimes I wonder what life would be like if I chose to never meet my brother. If I chose to keep my head buried in the sand. My mom would have never known about Lily’s sex addiction. She would have never shouted it to the fucking world. No media. Daisy would sleep peacefully. Lily wouldn’t feel so fucking ashamed. Connor and Rose wouldn’t have their sex life distributed online.
“You ran with her in your arms for over three miles. Your brother’s existence caused your parent’s divorce, and yet, you gave up most of your time and energy to help him through his sobriety. How can you possibly think you’re a pain in their life? What you’ve done for them, it’s nothing short of heroic, and if you can’t see that, then you’re blind, my friend.” A hot tear rolls down my cheek.
She’s the sun. I’m the dark. If she’s gone, I can kiss that fucking light away. Without her, I know I’ll never see it again.
“Daisy, don’t cry,” he says. “We’re going to get through this.” We.
Because I’ll have this scar forever. Because I’ll never be the pretty Daisy Calloway in magazine spreads or down runways. I am no longer a model. I am no longer the person my mom aspired me to be.
He leans forward, and I go rigid. His lips tickle my ear. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” I smile wide. Those words mean so much more now than they ever did before. “Say that again.”
“I don’t want to fucking hurt you.” “There’s no way you can.” He’s only ever been the opposite in my life. The most positive force there ever was. He’s like that to everyone he meets. I’m sure of it.
“What we fucking have,” he says. “I love you beyond physical attraction.” He cups my smooth cheek, looking deep into my eyes. “I love you, Dais, because you’re the wildest fucking girl with the biggest fucking heart. And without you in my life”—he shakes his head like it’s an inconceivable picture—“I’d be the unhappiest fucking guy.”
omg Ryke
“You love me,” I breathe. He lets out a short laugh. “You’re such a fucking girl.” “Say it again.” He smiles, a full blown one that tingles my body all over. “I fucking love you, sweetheart.”
I think I’ve hit the lottery—to have him in my life. To me, he’s worth every loud moment, every peaceful silence, the crazy and the sad, the restless and the quiet. I would trade it all to be with him,
“Your fucking Band-Aid isn’t going to save me.” “Wolverine is printed on the front. He can save anyone.” I roll my eyes for the fifth time it feels like.
“Connor, can you unlock it? I just want to see how my hair feels in the wind.” Connor looks at her through the rearview mirror. “That depends, are you going to howl again?” She shakes her head quickly. “No. No howling, I promise.”
Hahahaha
