Breakers (Academy of Stardom #3) - Bea Paige Page 0,1

once more.

It fucking hurt, her rejection. It hurt so fucking bad.

That night I’d failed her. We all did.

We failed her every day that followed for not questioning what happened. For being so fucking self-centered. We’d lived off each other’s pain, and we’d wallowed in it like a bunch of fucking selfish cunts. We didn’t fight the darkness that took over.

We threw ourselves into the Skins. We became the very epitome of everything we hated. We did bad things. Terrible things.

Then a year ago something happened. Something that would change the course of our lives forever. Something that eventually led us back to our beating heart even when we still refused to believe that’s all we ever really wanted.

We lost sight of the girl we loved once before. We lost sight of ourselves. Then we returned and we still couldn’t see the truth that was right in front of our faces.

But she made us see. She made me see once more. Titch pulled away the veil of hate and pain that had blinded us for years by dancing her way back into our lives, into our motherfucking souls. Now that the Breakers’ heart is beating again, we will do everything, anything to keep it safe.

1

Pen

My eyelids flicker open, and I blink back the heavy fog of unconsciousness. My muscles feel weak, my throat is dry, and a headache already blooms across my forehead. It takes me another few minutes to have enough strength to sit upright. I groan loudly, my gaze flitting around the dimly lit room as my hands slide over my body. I’m dressed in a loose t-shirt and sweatpants. Something about that doesn’t seem right, but I can’t gather my thoughts enough to figure out why. My fingers creep across the bedding, which is surprisingly soft beneath my hands. The room itself is warmly decorated in jeweled tones, there are canvases covering the walls with art that looks vaguely familiar in my foggy brain. Even though I feel like I’m drunk or high, I know this isn’t a dream just like I know that this isn’t my flat.

Where the hell am I? What am I doing here?

Then, like a spotlight being switched on inside my dark and cloudy thoughts, I remember.

I remember being in the cage at Grim’s club.

I remember dancing.

I remember the girls.

I remember Xeno.

Xeno.

Xeno who told me to trust him, who told me he loved me then stabbed a needle in my fucking neck! My hand lifts automatically to the spot, my fingers pressing against my skin where he’d injected me, and I wince at the phantom pain. Adrenaline rushes through my veins at the memory, followed swiftly by betrayal and anger.

Flipping my legs over the side of the bed, I sit upright. My head goes woozy at the sudden movement and I have to squeeze my eyes shut to force my brain to stop thinking I’m on a rollercoaster. When the feeling passes, I open my eyes and take another good look around me. On the side table next to me is a glass of water and a packet of headache pills with a sticky note fixed to them.

Take these, it will help.

Fuck that. I don’t trust the note or the person who fucking wrote it.

Speaking of which.

A familiar voice draws my attention to the slightly ajar door. Gingerly, I creep forward, my feet padding over the soft carpet. With the side of my body pressed against the wall, I peer out through the crack. At the end of the hallway is an open plan living room. Sitting at a table that separates the kitchen area from the lounge, is Xeno. He’s talking in hushed tones into his phone.

I see red.

Anger like I’ve never felt before courses through my veins as betrayal clogs my throat.

I yank open the door and storm down the hallway into the room ignoring the way my head spins, ignoring the fact that my balance is still off. Thank fuck for adrenaline, otherwise I’d be on the floor in a fucking heap.

Xeno’s eyes widen and he bites out a terse reply before placing his phone onto the table and rushing towards me. “Tiny, fuck, you need to sit down before you fall down,” he says, reaching for me, concern rippling across his traitorous face.

“Don’t you fucking touch me!” I shout, holding my arms out as I stagger sideways, gripping hold of the back of the sofa to steady myself.

“Tiny, let me explain…” His hands drop to his sides and he steps