Page 54 of Rayne
His mask breaks for a split second, an unfamiliar look crossing his face before he quickly turns it back off. "You're not happy," he says, this time more calmly. "You're so miserable that it's become a normal part of life."
"I am not," I argue back. "And this still doesn't explain why you threatened Elijah. For your information, I have no interest in dating him anyway!"
Hawk scans my face, possibly checking for lies. "Even if you don't, he does. And you're too much of a people pleaser. You'll give in, and it's only going to end badly."
"What? Give in like I gave in to you? Because we all know I regret that," I snap at him.
He pushes off from the wall angrily, walking away. I gape at him for a second, annoyed because for some reason, I want to keep arguing. I'm not done yet—there's too many unanswered questions. And Hawk continuously speaks in riddles. It's like trying to follow a drunk squirrel—one second I know where we are going, and the next I'm lost.
"Where are you going?" I yell out, watching as he walks into an ensuite bathroom and slams the door closed behind him.
I scoff, throwing my hands up. Jett taps me on the shoulder, making me jump. In the heat of the moment, I forgot he was still behind me.
"Just give him some time to calm down," he says.
Turning around, I actually feel offended. I am the only one with the right to be mad or annoyed, but as usual, they are sided with each other. I never expected any less though—it's always been them against me.
"I want to go home," I answer firmly. "I'm done with this poor excuse of a relationship we have."
Jett nods, seemingly understanding. "I'm not taking you home, Rayne. At least not until we've had dinner. How about I cook for us?"
I shake my head. "We're about seventeen years too late, Jett. You guys had more than enough opportunities to get to know me and treat me with respect. I cannot fathom where you get the audacity to waltz into my life now and start this bullshit. I may not have the perfect life, but I'm content. My only regret recently is letting you two get to me. It's fucked up and I've lost respect for myself. This is where I need to draw my boundaries."
He stays silent, eyebrows furrowing as he listens. I take a deep breath, continuing.
"I'll be cordial with you if we cross paths at our parents' house. But as for any other type of relationship, as far as I'm concerned, you don't exist. I'm going to call an Uber. And if either of you dare show your face again at my apartment or place of work, I will be filing for a restraining order."
I look at him firmly, chin raised. He doesn't react immediately, until finally, a smile appears on his face.
"Good," he says warmly. "I'm proud of you."
"What?" I mutter, confused.
Jett straightens up, hands in his pockets. "That's the first step."
Great. Now Jett's speaking in riddles too.
"What's the first step?" I ask incredulously.
"You growing a backbone," he replies, turning and heading back down the corridor. "I'm going to make us that dinner."
My mouth pops open and I wave my hands like a madwoman. "I said I was going home," I shout after him but he ignores me, disappearing out of sight.
I let out a sigh of frustration, my brain figuring out next steps. I'm going to call an Uber but then I realize… I don't have my cell. Or any of my belongings. They are still in my office.
"Shit," I hiss, getting angry again.
Glancing into Hawk's bedroom, I take a quick peep, wondering if he's left his cell inside. I spot it on the bedside drawer and I pause, listening to sounds. I can hear the shower running, so I tiptoe across the room, reaching for it.
As I click open the screen, I feel a rush of defeat at the passcode request. But then something else catches my eye.
I'm on Hawk's screensaver.
It's an older photo of us two, taken just before they left home. It was our last family vacation to celebrate mine and Jett's eighteenth birthdays. Now that I'm gazing at it, I remember it clearly. Mom and Dad had taken us all to Florida. They begged us for photos together, until I finally caved, posing next to Hawk. He had his arm wrapped around my shoulders, grinning at the camera. To the naked eye it looks like he's happy, but to me, it's a grin of victory—me finally getting into a photo with him.
My stomach drops as I remember the trip. It was fun, I'll admit that. But it makes me wonder if that's why Mom and Dad keep going back to Florida, and why they suggested we all go together again. It was the last time we were all together—their last happy memory of our family.
I'm so distracted by the thoughts that I don't hear the shower turn off, only realizing it when the bathroom door swings open and Hawk emerges. I look over in a panic, his cell still in my hand. My eyes widen as I spot him, dressed only in a black fluffy towel, tied at his hips.
