Page 39 of The Devils They Are
Well, I'm getting more and more surprised as this progresses. The great Rylan Astor wants to pretend he didn't come crawling to me? That's exactly where he should be though—on his knees.
"Still not buying it," I laugh softly. "Let me guess… election season?"
The way his eyes spring back, clashing with mine, gives me all the answers I need. It's no mystery that word spread like wildfire, and with enough video proof filling social media, I can just imagine Mayor Astor is not happy with the latest development. They need all the numbers they can get when we hit the poll booths again in a few months.
"Don't waste my time, Spencer. Are you willing to negotiate or not?"
I shrug, walking over to the stairwell entrance and lean against the wall. "Possibly. But things need to change around here. We don't want to be here anymore than you do, but there's no reason to be constantly at each other's throats."
"Fine," he snaps. "Name your terms."
"Wow," I muse. "It took me less than two weeks, Rylan. Two weeks to follow through on that promise that I'd push back."
He runs a hand through his hair, slumping down to the ground. My brows furrow, unsure what to make of his behavior.
The simple gesture, letting his guard down, sitting at a lower height—either he's playing me, or he's genuinely stuck between a rock and a hard place.
I push off from the wall, walking back over and sit down in front of him. For the first time, I'm looking at an equal, a product of this feud we've been forced into.
What happened this week, it wasn't even that bad. Sure, the videos were embarrassing, but he's strong enough to recover from something like that. The man in front of me is full of pure exhaustion, feeling the weight of this forced proximity.
I can relate.
It's hard trying to beonall the time. To put your own personal demons aside for the sake of saving face. And this could be a game, a tactic to blindside me, but if it's not… then Rylan Astor is really breaking to be asking for help.
I've only met Mayor Astor once, during the last election campaign. As part of the rounds, all the candidates had to visit the schools and local community venues. Even with trying to hide his displeasure at being present in Cedar territory, he was easily one of the worst humans I've ever come across.
Cruel, brutal, a real piece of work.
The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, but we're still young, and I bet that's a lot of pressure for someone like Rylan.
I wish I didn't feel pity for him. He doesn't deserve it. They spared no pity for me when they harassed me, set the cheerleaders on to me, destroyed my belongings knowing I'd be shit out of luck trying to replace them. Yet, I still feel a littlesadfor him.
My home life may not be perfect, but I have a mom who loves me, even when the demons swallow her whole. The pressure I feel at home is my own doing, a reaction to wanting to save her. I couldn't imagine having a parent like Max Astor, what that must be like.
"Do you want to talk about it?" I ask when Rylan continues to stay silent.
His eyes dart over to me, hardened, the mental wall blocking me from seeing what's on the other side. But his body language has already said more than words can express.
"I don't know what the hell you are talking about," he snaps back angrily.
Ahh—deflection. Classic move.
"Suit yourself," I shrug. "I'm not the one who has something to lose, Rylan."
He straightens up his back. "Don't worry that pretty little head of yours with things above you, Spencer. This is purely business."
"Exactly, business," I repeat. "So, if you want my help, you'll speak to me properly. I'm not the one who started this. I'm not the one who set fire to Cedar Heights Academy."
Rylan glowers at me. "What exactly are you implying?"
"Oh, spare me the theatrics. We all know someone from Willowbrook started that fire. You may have been at the warehouse at the time, but I'm not stupid—I know you knew about it."
His expression falters. "I knewnothing," he scoffs. "Why the hell would I waste my time setting fire to your school? I didn't want you here. I still don't want you here."
"Do you honestly expect me to believe that?" I challenge. "One of you lit that fuse. And I won't rest until I know who."
Rylan stands suddenly, glaring down at me. "This was a waste of time. If you've already decided in your head that we're the perpetrators, then there's no way you're going to agree to a truce."
