“More importantly, she wants to be the It girl. The one who snags Brock wholly, no sharing.” Fynn’s gaze shifted to me, and my cheeks warmed. Was he suggesting that I was the girl who snagged Brock?
No way.
Not possible.
He just didn’t understand the strange and unhealthy arrangement Brock and I had.
“No,” I hissed, making sure to keep my voice from rising like it wanted to do. My chest tightened. I’d been around these guys just long enough to start to understand how their minds worked. What they were suggesting, implying… “No,” I said again when not a single one of them refuted me or tried to pacify me.
Just the opposite.
“I’m going to crush her,” Brock said coldly. “Since murder really isn’t an option.”
“There has to be another way,” I rebutted, absolutely hating the idea of Brock and Ava. Why was I getting so defensive? I was acting like a jealous girlfriend, and everyone in the room was thinking the same thing. I wasn’t Brock’s girlfriend. I had no claim on him.
But… Brock and Ava…?
Fuck no.
Fury flooded me, making my head throb and dulling the effects of the painkillers. The web of lies and deception these guys wove just went deeper and deeper. I felt as if I was stuck in a dark tunnel with no end in sight, no light to guide me out; I was just steeped in darkness.
My lips pressed tight together as my heart thundered.
“It will probably work,” Fynn said in agreement. “Ava doesn’t know who she is if she isn’t the most popular and desired girl in school.”
“You can’t be serious,” I gasped to Brock.
“Ava’s motives were purely selfish. I won’t let what she did to you go. It’s been decided,” he said with an air of finality, like a judge slamming down his gavel. His words hung in the air.
As I glanced around the room and saw the resolve in each of their faces, I knew I was outnumbered. Nothing I said or did would change their minds. I let out a sigh of defeat. “I don’t know how much longer I can keep lying,” I said, my eyes drifting eventually to Grayson. It got harder and harder by the day, and after what happened today, I wanted the lies to stop and the truth to come out. Selfish, a little, because I was only thinking about myself, not all the other lives that would be impacted by this monstrous secret. Including the man sleeping down the hall.
Grayson’s identical shade of brown eyes as mine studied me. As his sister, I wondered what he saw. Then he nodded. “I know.”
It was more than an hour before Brock ushered the guys back through the window. By then, my body was beyond drained. I fell asleep within minutes of my head hitting the pillow, and I slept through the night uninterrupted without nightmares. When I woke up in the morning, Brock was gone but his scent clung to my sheets.
There was also another scent wafting through the air, seeping in from under the doorway.
Coffee.
As foretold by the doctor, my body hurt twice as much as it did yesterday. Specks of purple started to paint under the skin, the bruises becoming visible. Not even with the draw of coffee was I ready to get out of bed. It required moving, and I wasn’t certain that was such a good idea.
Hugging a pillow to my chest, I contemplated rolling over and going back to bed, but ultimately, the aroma of coffee drew me out of bed. My poor body ached everywhere and besides coffee, I really needed a pain reliever.
As I rounded the corner to the kitchen, Dad had a fresh cup of coffee in hand and a gruff smile. “Morning. I thought you could use this.” He extended the mug to me. Dad to the rescue.
“You have no idea,” I mumbled, memories of last night inundating me.
“Did you sleep okay?” he asked, setting my bottle of medicine on the kitchen table.
I sighed and slide into a chair. “Better than I thought.” Thanks to Brock. No amount of pleading had changed his mind. Eventually, I had given up.
As the coffee began to filter into my system, I had a devastating thought. Would Brock ignore me now that he planned to destroy Ava? What about the other guys? This was a stupid fucking plan, and I wasn’t sure I could idly sit by while Brock pretended to be into another girl—particularly Ava Whitmore.
Chapter Fifteen
The next few days sucked.
But they also were like the old times, like the last six months were nothing but twisted nightmares.