Like You Hurt: A Standalone Enemies to Lovers Romance (Devilbend Dynasty Book 2)

by Kaydence Snow

  “No arguments here.” He was right on all fronts. I knew guys like him—like the guy he used to be. “But you didn’t mean to kill him.”

  I stepped closer and pulled him in again; he let me, but his hands remained in his lap.

  “No, I didn’t. I didn’t think about him at all. I never thought about anyone else and how my actions could impact them. That’s who I was. That’s the guy who killed someone. I don’t want to be that person anymore.”

  “You’re not.” I said it definitively, and I meant it. My arms wrapped around his torso, the urge to give him comfort impossible to resist. He leaned in to return my hug and rest his head on my chest.

  For a few moments we were still. Just me holding a broken boy when I was barely keeping my own damn self from falling apart into a million incompatible pieces.

  “After the trial and everything was over”—his words were warm on my chest, his tears soaking my shirt—“Austin’s mom reached out to me. My parents and their lawyers and their fucking publicist all advised me against seeing her, but I went. I didn’t give a shit what they thought. I was a mess, but she’d lost her son—I’d taken her son—so I was going to do anything that woman asked of me. I was ready to walk off a cliff if she demanded it. Told her as much when I walked into her living room and dropped to my knees before her, blubbering like a child. And you know what she said to me? Austin wouldn’t want that.”

  Another round of sobs shook his shoulders, and his arms tightened around me—as if I was the only thing keeping him from collapsing completely. I didn’t know what to say or do. I just held him, crying right along with him.

  “Austin wouldn’t want that,” he repeated in a hoarse voice. “That’s the kind of person I took out of this world. We talked for a long time, and in the end, she told me she forgave me. She said she couldn’t go through the rest of her life carrying hatred in her heart. Then she made me promise to do all the things Austin couldn’t anymore—live my life, make something of myself, leave the world a better place than I found it.”

  We fell into silence after that, the birds continuing to chirp and the clouds continuing to pass above.

  After a while, Hendrix leaned out of my embrace, dragging both hands down his face. “I’ve never told anyone that. Not since it happened. Not the whole, full thing.”

  “Why did you tell me?” I didn’t feel worthy of his deepest truths, not after the way I’d treated him.

  “To make you understand why I’m being so weirdly intense about you going to Davey’s, about you telling your friends and family how you feel about your college acceptance. We’re so similar, you and me. And I’m terrified you’ll—”

  “What?” I took a step back, my anger rising again. It was too much. It was all just too much. “You think I’d kill someone because I’m not sure I want to study law? I would never do that.”

  “No.” He closed his eyes wearily. “I know our situations are different. I’m worried you’ll get yourself killed.”

  My phone started buzzing in my pocket. Desperate for an out from a conversation I still wasn’t ready to have, I wrenched it out. It was Drew—school had finished ten minutes ago.

  “Hello?” I answered, giving Hendrix my shoulder.

  He got to his feet. “Seriously?”

  “Hey, Big D! Where you at, girl?” He sounded as though he was in the car. He lived right near Oak Hill Park.

  “I told you not to call me that.” My response came out harsh—not at all like our usual light banter.

  “Are you OK?” he asked.

  I glanced at Hendrix, now standing in front of me with his arms crossed. “I need a lift. Can you pick me up from Oak Hill?”

  “On my way.”

  I hung up, and Hendrix got in my face again. “You can run from this all you want, but it’s going to catch up with you at some point.”

  “Yeah, well, that’ll be my problem and not yours.”

  “All the shit I just told you makes no difference whatsoever?”

  “That’s your life. Not mine. I’m fine!” I yelled. A flock of birds took flight from a nearby tree.

  “Really? You’re just going to keep pretending your way into a life you never wanted? How long until you’re married to fucking Will Frydenberg, in a job you despise, and the only thing keeping you going is a daily dose of Xanax?”

  “Fuck you. I’m not pretending shit. You’re the one driving around in an electric car, trying to fix my problems like doing good deeds will make you into a different person. You can pretend all you like, but at the end of the day, you’re just a thug.” I managed to stop myself from saying murderer somehow, but I still felt like shit as soon as the sentence left my mouth.

  He bared his teeth, the fury in his face nearly masking the hurt my words had inflicted. “Yeah, well, you can’t get off unless it’s with a thug, so whatever. I may be a thug, but what does that make you?”

  The sound of Drew’s matte black Audi coming up the drive was like the splash of a life preserver after I’d been in the water long enough to start swallowing some. I glanced over my shoulder just in time to see him pull up, then turned back to Hendrix, already walking backward. “You’re the one who told me I need to stop fucking losers. So just stay away from me.”

  He turned around and smacked the remnants of our lunch off the table.

  Breathing hard, I turned and jogged down the hill. When I pulled the handle of the back door on Hendrix’s Tesla, I thanked my lucky stars it was unlocked, grabbed my bag, and rushed over to Drew’s car.

  “Drive. Go. Now,” I demanded. Not that Hendrix was calling after me or trying to catch up. I ignored the pang of disappointment that brought and reminded myself I’d just ensured he wouldn’t. I usually loved it when people called me a bitch—more often than not it was just their way of saying I was being too assertive as a woman, speaking my mind too loudly, refusing to take their shit.

  But in this moment, I knew I’d been a bitch to him, in all the worst ways.

  Drew glanced in my direction. “You all right?”

  “I’m fine. Can you drive me back to school? I left my car there.”

  “Sure.” He pulled onto the main road. “What’s going on with you two?”

  “Nothing.” Not anymore. Not ever. I’d made sure of it.

  “Didn’t look like nothing. You need me to get the guys together and take care of it? Just say the word.”

  I sighed and forced a smile. “You’re sweet to offer to inflict violence on my behalf, but it’s not necessary. I promise. I’ve hurt him way worse than he could ever hurt me.”

  I hadn’t meant to say that last part, but it was true. Drew kept silent, but I could feel more questions on the tip of his tongue.

  “Drew, can you please not tell anyone about this? I’ve handled the situation, and no one needs to know. I promise.”

  “If you’re sure.” He sighed.

  “I’m positive. Hey, what were you calling me about?”

  Drew and I texted, but we rarely called each other. He must’ve wanted to talk about something important.

  “It can wait. Looks like you’ve had a hard enough day.” He squeezed my knee and returned his hand to the gearshift.

  I sighed and looked out the window at Devilbend flying by. Was Hendrix right? Would I end up in a life that felt as if it were flying past as I watched from the other side of the window?

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Hendrix

  My feet pounded against the treadmill as sweat poured down my face. My lungs were screaming, my heart thundering so hard it felt as though it might give out.

  I gritted my teeth and kept pushing.

  After Donna got into Drew’s car and left, I’d driven straight to the gym, every inch of my body itching to just do something. It was better than punching a tree in the park, better than driving to Davey’s and getting absolutely wasted, better than finding some unsuspecting dude in a back alleyway and beating the shit out of him. I couldn’t punish anyone else to get th
is feeling out, so I’d punish my own body.

  The person I really wanted to punish was her.

  That wasn’t true, not really. Yes, I was angry, furious, but I was hurt more than anything. I’d spilled my guts to her, told her the deepest, darkest moment of my life, and she . . . she just . . .

  I grunted and swung my heavy arms a little harder, pumping my legs.

  I’d told her about Austin because I wanted her to understand how fast and how horribly bad shit could turn when you were searching for an escape. No, she wasn’t getting into fights with randoms as I had been, but she was spiraling in her own way—exactly as I had been. The only difference really was that she preferred to fuck dangerous guys and not fight them. Why couldn’t she see that?

  But maybe that was my mistake—I’d told her because I wanted her to change her behavior. I’d told her as a way to get her to do what I wanted her to do.

  No, that wasn’t entirely true either. I didn’t think I’d be capable of saying all the things I’d said to Donna if I didn’t want her to know them. Not because it would be a wake-up call for her, but because I wanted her to know me—every deep, dark, horrific part of my soul. I wanted her to know me. And still want me.

  But she didn’t. She’d run from me like the monster I was.

  Maybe I was going about this whole thing the wrong way. Maybe she needed to hit her rock bottom, just as I had, in order to recognize that something needed to change. But how was I supposed to just sit back and watch her get hurt, possibly killed? Especially now that I’d gone and grown fucking feelings for her, like a moron.

  “Hey, bro!” Turner appeared in front of the treadmill, his smile more a grimace. I frowned, wishing he’d go away, wishing everyone would just go the fuck away, but he reached over and hit the Stop button.

  “Dude!” I panted, bracing myself on the guard rails. “I was . . . still . . . going.”

  “Yeah, well, I can’t let you get hurt, so . . . how about you take a break and we talk about what’s bothering you?” He crossed his arms, and the biceps bulged out. He was a fit guy when we met, but he’d gained definition over the weeks we’d worked out together.

  “I’m not gonna . . . get hurt . . . I just need . . . to keep running,” I ground out, beyond frustrated with how hard I was breathing. My legs were starting to shake a little now that I’d been forced to stop. Useless meat stumps . . .

  “I can’t let you keep going, man.” Turner frowned, looking more worried by the second.

  “Why?”

  He sighed. “It’s my job to make sure people don’t hurt themselves. You’re sweating so much it’s dripping on the treadmill, which is fucking disgusting”—he made a face—“but also a slip hazard. Not to mention you’re so out of breath you can hardly talk, and the only reason you’re still upright is because of that death grip on the handrail.”

  I glared at him, still working to catch my breath.

  When I said nothing, Turner raised his eyebrows and pointed to the changing rooms. “Go shower. I’ll wipe this down for you and get you a Gatorade so you don’t pass out.”

  I kept glaring at him as I hobbled off the machine. There was no point arguing; he wasn’t going to let me move on to weights.

  After I stood under the shower for a long time with my hands propped against the tiles, my lungs and heart returned to normal function. I put my school uniform back on and walked out of the shower cubicle.

  Turner was sitting on a bench with his back against the lockers, tapping away at his phone. He looked up when I came out and held out a bottle of blue liquid.

  I flopped down next to him and had a long drink.

  “What’s going on with you?” he asked. “You looked like you wanted to murder someone out there.”

  My spine immediately stiffened, and I stared at him with wide eyes.

  He leaned away from me, confused. “What?”

  I shook my head and relaxed my posture, dragging a hand down my face. For a second there, I thought maybe Donna had told all her friends, that she was warning everyone to stay away from me again. Except this time, she had a very real reason for it. But that didn’t make sense. Turner wasn’t acting scared and suspicious—he was concerned for a friend. Me. I didn’t deserve him.

  “I can’t talk about it. It’s . . .” I pressed my lips together so hard it almost hurt.

  Turner rested his hands on his knees. “When I found out about my mom, that she was dead, that my little sister had seen the whole thing happen . . . all I wanted to do was pretend it wasn’t real. I’d spent years dreaming about the day I’d get to hug my mom again, and then suddenly I found out I never would. You know, I don’t even remember the last time I hugged her. It must’ve felt so insignificant, like there was so much certainty there’d be another one, that I didn’t think to commit every detail to memory.” He turned to look me in the eyes. “Anyway, point is, my little sister needed me, Mena needed me, so I couldn’t just curl up into a ball and pretend it wasn’t real. I had to face it. And the only way I could do that was to talk about it. To my therapist, to the police, to my dad, to my girlfriend. Every time I shared a bit of how I felt, it was a little easier to carry all the pain and the heartache.”

  He was telling me I needed to talk about my feelings. That cocky asshole part of me I’d worked so hard to eradicate wanted to roll his eyes and call him a pussy with a punch to his arm. But he was also, in a roundabout way, telling me that he had trusted me with his darkness, his pain, and maybe I could trust him with mine.

  But there was one key difference between our situations. “What happened to your family, you were in no way to blame for that.” I held his gaze, my jaw tight. “I appreciate you being so honest about all this heavy shit in your life. But my story is the complete opposite. I’m not the victim here. I’m the bad guy.”

  “There’s nothing you can tell me that will make me think less of you.”

  I sighed and looked up to the ceiling. He was so wrong. I really didn’t want to lose Turner as a friend, but I couldn’t keep lying to him either. That wasn’t friendship. Not to mention, now that Donna knew all the gory details and was more pissed at me than I’d ever seen her, it was only a matter of time before everyone knew. It would be better if he heard it from me anyway.

  For the second time in a day, I told someone the full story of the worst thing I’d ever done. I didn’t go into as much detail as I had at the park, and I didn’t break down crying, but I didn’t try to sugarcoat it either. I also told him that I’d told Donna and we’d ended up in another fight, but I didn’t tell him why I’d told her—I was still keeping her secrets.

  “I took Austin from his mom, just like Boyd Burrows took your mom from you,” I finished. “All that pain you feel, I’m the cause of that for someone else.”

  Turner sat back against the locker, mirroring my pose, and released a big breath. “Did you set out to kill him? Deliberately end his life?”

  “No. But—”

  “Do you feel bad about what you did?”

  “It’s the single worst mistake of my life. I’ll never stop feeling like shit about it.”

  “Did you learn from it? Are you trying to be a better person?”

  “Every single fucking day. But nothing I do can take back the fact that I killed someone.”

  “No, what’s done is done, and you have to live with that. As far as I see it, it was an awful, horrible mistake that ended in a horrific accident. All you can do is keep living your life in a way that honors Austin’s and make sure you don’t willingly put any more hurt out into the world.”

  He stood up and faced me. “As for Donna, I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but she’s not a bad person. Everyone calls her a bitch, but that’s only because she’s so unapologetic about standing up for what she believes in. She’s a good person deep down. Just like you. You’ll figure it out.”

  I stared up at him, struggling to process the casual way he was still accepting me as a friend despite it all. T
ears stung the backs of my eyes as he pulled me to my feet and into a hug. We patted each other’s backs, holding on for a second longer than our usual hellos.

  “Thank you, Turner.” All the things I wanted to say to him but couldn’t find the words for, I injected into that thank-you.

  He shrugged and smiled. “I gotta get back to work. Go home. Do not get back on that treadmill.” He gave me a pointed look and walked out.

  I took a few moments to get my shit together before grabbing my stuff and leaving, waving to him on my way out the door.

  The sun was starting to set as I walked around the corner to where I’d parked, my head bent, my mind on what a batshit day it had been.

  Apparently, it wasn’t over.

  I looked up to find Shady leaning against the side of my car, smoking a cigarette. He was in jeans and high-tops, a tracksuit top zipped up under his open coat. With a grin, he pushed off the car and held his arm out wide. “Hendrix, my man!”

  “Shady.” I gave him a fist bump and a half smile. He was a good distraction and cool most of the time, but it was a little odd he was out here, waiting for me. It put me on alert. “What’s up?”

  “Listen.” He stepped in closer, took another drag of his smoke, and lowered his voice. “I’d love to shoot the shit, but it’s freezing out here, and I got another matter to attend to.”

  “OK.” I unlocked my car and threw my gym bag into the back before turning back to face him.

  “I just need to know if you’ve given any more thought to what we talked about.” He dropped the butt of his cigarette onto the ground and put it out with his toe.

  “What we talked about?” I frowned, trying to remember the last time I’d seen him. It was the night Donna was roofied. We’d sat at the bar, talking shit, sports, movies, nothing serious. Then I’d spotted Donna, and I couldn’t remember a single word Shady had said after.

  “Yeah, man. There’s a fight night this weekend, and the people in charge need an answer.” He bounced on his toes, looking at me expectantly.