Broken Trust A Dark High School Romance - Tate James Page 0,1

fucking point of me shooting a man was to have leverage to hold over my head.

“Like I said, they own me now, but I’m going to make it as difficult as I can for them,” I decided, pushing my hair back so it was across the pillow.

Dante reached out and took my hand, squeezing it gently before he rolled back the other way and almost instantly fell asleep.

Bastard had always been able to do that.

Meanwhile, every single time I closed my eyes, all I could see was the jerking of the Huntley dude’s head when the bullet went through. The spatter of his blood as it coated so much of the room behind him. The thud as the gun slipped from my hands and hit the ground. Beck’s face as he lowered his own weapon, freeing Dante.

Those images were permanently branded in my brain. On my soul.

“You want something to help you sleep?” Dante murmured, not quite asleep like I’d thought.

I shook my head. As badly as I wanted oblivion, I was scared to let myself be vulnerable again. Drugs or alcohol were going to be a rare occurrence in my life, because this new world I was part of was dangerous and cut throat.

Dante’s breathing got really deep, and I was relieved that he was finally resting. He had so many injuries, sleep was the best thing for him. Meanwhile, I continued to stare at the ceiling, too tired to even cry.

My heart hurt so badly, like the fucking thing had been stabbed and was slowly dying. It was so much more than the fact I’d had to kill someone. I’d lost four guys who I’d been counting as friends … as more than friends. Family.

My phone lit up again from the bedside table, and I ignored it. It had been going off all night, messages and calls, over and over, non-stop, until eventually Dante suggested I turn it off. I couldn’t bring myself to do that; instead, I put it on silent and just left it there to torture myself.

I wanted so badly to know what they were saying. So badly.

But I was too angry.

A loud banging on the door had me jumping about a foot in the air. Looking over, I was surprised to see Dante remained sound asleep. He desperately needed it, so I didn’t wake him. Stumbling out of bed, I pulled the shirt down from where it had crept up. I wore only Dante’s shirt and some clean panties that I’d thankfully left here and he’d washed for me.

Creeping out of the bedroom, I tiptoed through his living room and stood behind the door.

Somehow, before they even spoke, I knew who was out there. I could feel that energy they carried, like an extra spark or presence that most people didn’t have.

“Butterfly, I know you’re in there.” Beck’s low voice drifted through to me.

I dropped my head against the wood, and the tears which had been absent since I’d taken someone’s life finally appeared.

“Please open the door,” Dylan added.

“Go away,” I whispered, exhaustion and tears choking my words. “Just leave me alone.”

Please. I was silently begging.

“We want to explain,” Jasper said, and his voice was rough, “We … we can’t have this conversation out in the hall.”

Anger rose up in me at their pleading tones. “That’s not my problem, Jasper,” I snapped. How dare they? How dare they try and guilt me into forgiving them after what they’d just forced me to do. “Fuck off. All of you. You’re dead to me.”

I squeezed my eyes tightly shut, fighting against the hot tears which spilled down my cheeks regardless. I couldn’t deal with them right now. Not when their betrayal was so fresh.

There was a long pause, but I wasn’t dumb enough to think they’d left.

“Butterfly.” Beck exhaled heavily and there was a wooden thump like his forehead was pressed to the other side of the door like mine was. “That’s not how this works. You’re one of us now, for better or worse.”

The matter-of-fact cast to his words boiled my fury higher, and I embraced it. It was an unhealthy coping mechanism, but once again, I found myself much preferring to welcome the anger than dwell on the pain.

Clenching my teeth, I stepped back and whipped the door open so quickly Beck almost tumbled into the room. Off balance, he staggered back a few steps then glared at me in confusion.

“What the fuck, Butterf—”

“Stop.” My voice was like ice, and I blocked the doorway,