She groans into my shoulder, her voice muffled, but the pain in her tone is clear. “What if he’s right? What if I’m forced to hurt them? I can’t... I just can’t do that, Hawk.”
“No, you won’t. You’re stronger than you think. King only believes he has power over you, but he’s wrong.” I wipe a few stray tears from her cheek, hating to see her like this. “You won’t be doing shit for him. Do you hear me? We’ll fucking expose him. We’ll take that video and turn it against him.”
Whitney pulls back to meet my gaze, her eyes wide and frantic. “And what if he finds out? What if he retaliates? I can’t take that chance, Hawk.”
I fight the urge to lash out, to spiral into the rage that threatens to consume me. “Then we make sure he doesn’t have the chance,” I say firmly. “It’s time to focus on you, Whit, not him. We’ll go to Raze and the others, and we’ll come up with a plan. But we need to be smart. I can’t let him hurt you any more than he already has.”
She shakes her head, her expression flitting from desperation to determination. “They won’t believe me. Not after everything I’ve done. I’m nothing but a liability in their eyes.”
“Fucking stop it.” I press my finger against her lips. “You’re not a liability. You fucking matter, Whitney. You always have.”
She takes a deep breath, looking down at her trembling hands. With a quick movement, I pull out my phone, fingers hovering over the screen as I try to gather my thoughts.How do I explain this without sending Raze into panic mode?
“Whit, I need you to promise me something.”
Her gaze flickers back up to mine, vulnerability etched across her delicate features. “What?”
“Promise me that you won’t act rashly. Whatever happens next, don’t make any decisions without me.”
“I promise, Hawk,” she whispers, the sincerity in her voice mixed with fear.
“Good,” I nod, sending a quick text to Raze.
I ensure I keep the details vague to protect Whitney while still alarming him enough to get here as soon as possible. As I sit back and wrap my arms around her again, I feel a shift within her. The warmth of my presence isn't just for comfort—it's a reassurance that I'm her anchor in this battle against the demons that threaten to swallow her whole.
Minutes later, the weight of uncertainty presses around us, the oppressive darkness feeling less daunting with Whitney nestled close. But when the sound of footsteps crunching on the gravel below sends a jolt through me, I move instinctively.
“Stay close,” I whisper as I peer over the ledge, my heart pounding; is it Raze, or has Dustin finally come for her?
The figure emerges from the shadows, revealing a familiar face—but behind them, the ominous presence of a truck idling at the curb pulls my breath from my lungs. My fingers curl around Whitney's hand like a vise as I prepare for the worst.
fifteen
head games
Raze
Cute Girl: Diggy Graves
I can’t stand it when Hawk sends me cryptic messages like the one I just received. All I know is that there’s trouble brewing with Whitney, but the details are eluding me. I tread softly up the gravel driveway, each crunch beneath my feet a reminder to be cautious, especially with her ex still at large. My bike is parked a little way off, a strategic move to avoid being followed.
As I draw closer to the building, I catch a hint of Whitney's laughter—soft but distinct. Hawk must have cracked a joke, which is surprising because he’s not exactly known for his sense of humor. My palms are sweaty, my knees are shaky, and myheart races as I wonder what new problem has emerged. Haven’t we endured enough chaos recently? What else could possibly go wrong?
I climb the fire escape, pulling myself up onto the roof where Hawk and Whitney are wrapped in each other’s arms, dancing to music playing from her phone. I can’t help but feel a smile tugging at my lips, reminiscent of better days—when we laughed together, no one was hurt, and life felt simpler.
As they sway to a Mariah Carey song, I waver between nostalgia and a bittersweet ache; memories flood my mind, and my eyes grow misty. I’m usually not this fucking sentimental, but a few extra drinks combined with some ecstasy have made my emotions more volatile than usual. As I sniffle, Hawk suddenly turns to face me, his expression flickering between surprise and fear. Whitney, startled at first, visibly relaxes when she sees it’s just me, her eyes lighting up as she breaks free from Hawk’s embrace.
“Raze! I didn’t know you were stopping by tonight,” she exclaims, practically leaping into my arms, her legs wrapping around my waist as I catch her.
“Hawk didn’t mention I was coming... to talk?” I ask, casting a pointed look in his direction, hoping he’ll pick up on my unspoken concern. He doesn’t.
“I wasn’t sure if you were planning to stop by tonight or if you wanted to discuss everything tomorrow,” he replies with a nervous smile.
The tension hangs heavily in the air, thick enough to slice through. It's clear the news I’m about to hear won’t be pleasant, but it's crucial that I remain serious, no matter how much I want to lose myself in Whitney. Eventually, the three of us find a spot on the roof, beers in hand and a blunt passing between us, our eyes drifting toward the shimmering stars, which feellike distant beacons of hope. Silence envelops us comfortably, though I know it won't last long.
And it doesn’t.
“We’ve got some problems with King, Raze,” Hawk says, his worried expression matching the gravity of his words.
