"I highlighted the main points from last week’s lectures. You missed quite a bit." She bit into an apple, talking through a full mouth. "But don’t worry, I’ve got you covered." I flipped through her notes and couldn’t help but smile. "Thanks, Nat. Really." She made it so easy to be around her, as if she were bent on proving me wrong about every incorrect assumption I had. Not once did she turn her gaze away from me, and unlike me, she wasn’t conscious of the whispers around us. Slowly, I was getting the hang of it. I carefully set her books aside. "I should be done with them by tomorrow—maybe even before your first class." She waved me off, swallowing. "No, take your time, Myles. I’m not exactly in a hurry to get them back. Besides..." She shrugged. "If I take them, they’ll just sit in my locker untouched." "Noted." I bit into my hamburger, savoring the flavor until it turned to ash in my mouth, noticing she was watching me. "More notes?" I asked through a full mouth. She smiled,
I dashed down the stairs and stopped in front of Diego, ready to pounce at the first wrong word out of his mouth."Where the hell is it?!" I snarled.Diego rose slowly, his movement calm, leisurely, and the men with him followed suit, the table groaning as it scraped across the floor. Their eyes flicked between Diego and me, alert, as though waiting for some unspoken signal.One of them shifted forward, his gaze fixed on me, jaw clenched, but Diego held up a hand. “Stand down!” he gave the man a rough shove. “This one’s stronger than you think.”Realization hit, bitter and fast. These men weren’t here by chance. I was the reason they’d gathered. Every clue the fucker took it. "Diego, where the hell is my money?!"He chuckled, "What money? You don't have any money."I marched up to him, fists clenched, eyes blazing. "Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about! Twenty thousand! Give it back, now!"My stepfather tilted his head, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Twenty thousand,
The automated voice repeated, "The number you're trying to call is switched off, please try again later..." I let the phone drop, leaning back against the wooden pew chairs as my gaze lifted to the rink. Just in time, I saw George slam the puck hard into the post, then spit, his eyes landing on me with a silent challenge. The rivalry was a quiet one, as though we were in some sort of silent competition. Days ago, I might have thrown him a grin, but now I was too busy glaring at my phone, waiting for it to ring... any ring. Just like Eros had said—still no sign or word from Myles. It had been five days since he’d vanished and four days since his phone had gone dead. Yet I kept calling, dialing the same number over and over, hoping each time he might finally pick up. A shadow fell over me. I looked up to see Coach Daniel settling beside me. Slowly, I turned my phone screen down and looked out at the rink. "I thought you’d jump right back into the rink once you were back." He began,
I leaned against the door, heart racing with a mixture of dread and frustration. "Shit," I whispered, feeling the sweat dampen my shirt and the bandage beneath. "Shit!"He knocked again.I held my breath, wishing more than ever that I hadn’t come to the door, hoping he’d just go away. A chill seeped through me, filling every part of me with unease. How did he even find this place?Another knock.I glanced through the peephole. He was still standing there, massaging his temples, his face unreadable. I winced, remembering his rules about noise.I pressed my back against the door, reminding myself those rules only mattered in *his* place, not here."Myles," his voice filtered through the cracks in the door. "Open up, Myles."I turned back to the door, replacing my fear with frustration, twisted the knob, and pulled it open again, coming face-to-face with the smirking figure in front of me."I was about to come in through the window," he said.I glared. "What the hell are you doing here?
**TRISTAN**I felt his eyes on my back as I moved to the sink, holding the used chopping board. Turning on the water, I paused, then called out, “Something you want to say to me?”His response was quick. “Like you shouldn’t be here? What do you think you’re doing?”It was an hour since his mum left and he hadn't spoken a word to me, he didn't have to; the irritation on his face when I moved was loud enough.The fruit particles washed down the sink. Hanging the board on the wall, I picked up the bowl of fruit salad and walked to the counter where he sat, setting it before him. I leaned down, holding his gaze. “We had a deal: you be available whenever I need you, and I keep my end.”“I told you I would make up for that...”I raised a brow. “Now how would you do that? By screwing me twice as necessary?” Even as I said it, the words tasted bitter, but something had to drive the point home.He winced, recoiled back into himself, then looked away, nodding. “If that’s what it’d take, then ye
**MYLES**I was awakened by bickering in my room, and even in my sleep, I frowned. The only voice I recognized was Tristan’s; the other, a feminine voice dominating the “conversation,” was unfamiliar.“…You think you’re just going to tell me you had nothing to do with this and I’m just going to believe you? You know me better than that, Tristan Emiliano Medici!”“You also think if I had a hand in this, I’d be here with medical help?” Tristan’s voice was tired as always. “I just want to know how you got into med school.”“Take that back!” she screeched.I flinched. If this was what Tristan dealt with, I could understand why he made silence a rule. Despite myself, I grunted, and immediately felt two pairs of eyes on me.“Great,” Tristan gritted, “you woke him up.”And I didn’t want to be. There was a stranger in my house—one stranger, and one enemy whom I let use me whenever he wanted. It wasn’t exactly a holiday.I began to push myself to a sitting position, but then froze, falling bac
My throat went dry and rough when I tried to gulp. His expression was too blank to tell if he was joking, but I could see the challenge in his eyes. I shouldn't have said anything."I'll pay you. But not now," I said, glancing at the wall. "I'll get it in a week.""No," he cut in, his voice still quiet. In a flash, he was in front of me, grabbing my chin and glaring into my eyes. "I want it now. Come on, give it."A week ago, I would’ve shoved him aside, thrown the cash at him, and demanded he leave. But not today. Right now, I didn’t even have a hundred to my name.As if reading my mind, he dropped his hand. "Then suck it up. You'll never be able to pay me, so get used to being indebted to me."The admission hits like a punch to the gut, and I can’t bring myself to look at him. Exhausted, I glance away, the fever creeping up. He was right. I was going to be forever indebted to him—so indebted I'd do nothing but watch him invade every part of my life. Minutes later, he took the tray
**MYLES** I opened my eyes to birds chirping outside my window, pecking against the glass. Then, the harsh morning light penetrated my lids. I rubbed my eyes, waiting for the usual pain to hit me out of nowhere. When it didn’t, I sighed in relief—Mum was right; all it took was a visit to the doctor. Or, in my case, Tristan bringing one. Speaking of Tristan, I struggled to turn, my eyes landing on the empty sofa holding only a gift package. He must have left. I couldn’t help but wonder when. I glanced at the digital clock on the table. 10:45 a.m. I frowned. I never slept this hard when I was stressed and healthy, yet I still felt so damn groggy. I climbed out of bed, eager to leave what was becoming my second home. I bit back a groan as a slight pain nudged my sides when I stood up. Just as I was about to head to the bathroom, I sensed movement beside my bed. I turned and, seeing Diego, furrowed my brows, my eyes hardening. “What the hell are you…” My frown faded when he lowered his
For the rest of the week, Tristan didn’t so much as breathe in my direction. It probably had something to do with the fact that I avoided both the rink and the canteen. Instead, I spent most of my days in the chemistry lab.Nat was always around, and whenever she was, most of our experiments ended up blowing up in our faces. We laughed until our stomachs hurt, quickly cleaning up the mess before the teachers noticed. The sharp smell of chemicals clung to our clothes as we left the lab, giggling like kids who had just gotten away with a prank.At home, the silence felt heavier than usual. Mum was out more often, and even when she was around, she seemed distant. Whenever I caught her, she smelled like scented candles. With all this free time, I buried myself in reading. My phone stayed silent—so unlike it usually was. I couldn’t help but wonder if Jade was okay.Friday arrived too quickly, knocking me off my feet. Every breath felt heavier as I reminded myself: It’s just a date. No nee
**JADE** "...It's one-two, two, one-two, three! And spin! Jade, Jade McCoy, what is up with you today?!" The coach yelled. I had no clue, but suddenly, the gown felt too tight—so tight I struggled for air instead of skating. Then came the gunfire, suddenly piercing my thoughts, leaving me gasping, panting, and almost tripping. It's Monday, and I can't concentrate. I almost died in an intense gun chase, and they wouldn’t know it. I fainted in the car. Listening to Eros banter with the person on the other end made my stomach churn. It told me everything I needed to know: *They had come for him*. He was used to this. As I fainted, I wondered why he never pulled out a gun—for I damn well knew he had one. I woke up in his house, still fully dressed, on a bed that smelled like him. He lived big—I listened to the quiet house—and alone, too. I snatched my coat, ready to race out of wherever this place was. But opening the door, there he was, drying his wet hands with a towel.
Dinner with Jake was surprisingly pleasant. The awkwardness I had expected never arrived. Instead, we talked—about school, books, and random little things that didn’t seem important but filled the silence in a way that made me feel... normal. He wasn’t overbearing, didn’t ask invasive questions. For once, I didn’t feel like I had to guard every word I said.Afterward, we sat on his small couch, our plates balanced on the coffee table, the dim kitchen light spilling into the living room. He owned one of the nicest spots in the neighborhood. Considering how much he worked, I understood why—but I couldn’t fathom how he kept the place so spotless. Like he read my thoughts, he said, “Left home at sixteen, moved to D.C., found a job my first week, loved the pay, and haven’t looked back since.” When I stayed quiet, he shrugged. “I wanted to make it clear—I’m not trying to make you my next dinner or something.” I smiled, comforted by his easygoing tone. “Not that.” My eyes wandered ar
**TRISTAN** "...Get your fucking uncle in order!" Detonations and a feminine scream accompanied the angry order. For Eros to call it a glock, he was in trouble. I groaned, leaving the mini bar, the half-filled glass forgotten for a moment. It was almost two, and here I was, still drinking myself to stupor. "Tristan! Are you there?!" Eros's voice cut through my confusion. The screeching, the gunfire—it was all giving me a headache. "Jesus Christ, man! I'm going to die. Call your fucking uncle!" I massaged the side of my head, walking to the window. "Why do you think it's Nico?" "I don't know..." he snarled. "Maybe because he's been on my case since he found out about the little sessions you have with M..." He stopped himself just in time. I bit back a smile. "Just call your uncle and sort this shit out!" I walked back to the counter, taking the tumbler and listening to its quiet slosh. Picking up the house phone, I punched in the very familiar number. At the first ring,
**TRISTAN** Agreed too quickly—far too quickly for a girl who decided to bestow her attention on him only a month ago. Despite the smirk tugging at my lips, I felt my blood boil. What was wrong with me? I didn't know if I wanted to kill him—tighten my fingers around his throat—or fuck him hard. "You always make bad decisions," I breathed, soaking in the hatred his eyes exuded. "Tell me about it," he retorted. I gripped his waist, nails digging into his skin. He winced and swallowed. He looked so beautiful this way, from the damp waves of his hair down to his toes, and I hated how obvious that was, even as rage coursed through me. And that clear skin... I pressed my fingers deeper into his neck. Give it time—it wouldn't stay that clear. "Come on now," I whispered. "Get on your knees." He drew a deep breath, but he didn’t hesitate, sliding down until he was on the wet floor. Before my arousal, he blushed red but kept his eyes locked on mine. And that... that sent blood
**TRISTAN** *'...I can't stop talking to Natalie.'* My fist clenched on the bar counter as I stared into the golden liquid in my tumbler. That little pain in the ass. How could one fucking person grate so hard on my nerves? What would I have done differently if it were someone else, not those puppy-brown eyes looking at me from across the table? I downed the glass in one frustrated gulp. Maybe, for starters, I wouldn't have had him at my *fucking* table. The bartender refilled my glass before I could call out, his sea blues lingering right on my zipper—a blatant open invitation. Normally, I’d take it. God knows I needed the distraction tonight—anything to silence the voice in my head or the heat crawling under my skin. But for some reason, I wasn’t interested. Grabbing my glass, I left the counter for an empty sofa tucked in the corner of the room. The club buzzed with life—flashing neon lights, bass-heavy music pounding against my skull—but it all blurred into white noise. Ha
**MYLES** *Today. 6pm.* His text had said, and at that moment, my stomach sank. Even the laughter around me couldn’t drown out the unease twisting in my gut. Two hours later, after everyone had left, I pulled my hood over my head and walked to the deserted road where I was always picked up. There he was—not his driver, but Tristan himself, sitting behind the steering wheel. My brows knit, more in annoyance than shock. Great. So much for those two peaceful hours before the storm. Gone. “The front seat,” he said as I approached, not even glancing at me. I slid in next to him, shutting the door behind me. He started the ignition and pulled onto the road, his expression still unreadable. I studied the side of his face, trying to gauge his mood or his thoughts, but it was blank. The tension filling the car gnawed at my insides, warning me this wasn’t good. I turned to the window instead, refusing to let his mood swings keep me on edge. But no matter how hard I tried to relax,
**Oh God!** I groaned through a mouthful of tacos, licking my fingers. "I love your mum, Myles! Oh my God, this is so good." Leo, seated on Myles's study desk, shot me a look that screamed, *Seriously, Jade?* Meanwhile, Myles, standing beside him, chuckled and kept explaining his math working. We were at his house. I sat cross-legged on his bed next to a tray stacked high with tacos. Natalie was nowhere to be found—she had left the room with Myles's mum twenty minutes ago. A smile spread across my face, warmth filling my chest, as Myles gave Leo a playful slap on the back of his head. He had no idea how happy I was. It was obvious why he'd hidden his address from us—Myles was ashamed of where he lived. But suddenly, he wasn’t anymore? What changed his mind? Whatever it was deserved a kiss on the cheek. I loved the coziness of his room as much as I loved his mum, with her cute Mexican accent. I groaned again. "Oh God!" Leo turned to glare this time. "Really? Are you going
**MYLES**The plan was to keep recovering until next week. I’d let Mum keep me home Wednesday and Thursday, but by Friday, I couldn’t wait any longer. The moment I walked into the barn, I felt his eyes on me—like a velvet knife, slicing through my clothes and into my thoughts. But I didn’t look back at him. Instead, I turned to the far end of the room, where Leo was watching Jade, who was struggling to pull on her boots, frustration written all over her face.They were next on the ice rink for the figure skating club, but Jade looked ready to explode. Then, her eyes met mine. The boots dropped from her hands, her eyes widening. "Myles," she mouthed.I smiled, and in the next second, she was racing toward me, throwing her arms around me in a tight embrace. I held her too, ignoring the attention she’d drawn and the slight pain digging into my sides.“You’re going to be the death of me,” she whispered, something warm and wet soaking into my shirt. “You’re going to be the fucking death o