elaborates. "But for as why we didn't argue or fight him is simply based on owing him."
A self-deprecating laugh leaves me, making my chest ache. I'm like a fucking bet. Toss a coin. It'll define your life.
"Don't look at me like that." He cringes at his own words.
After setting down my shower supplies, I get inside one of the shower stalls and start undressing as Just watches me.
"A year ago, we were at a game in Las Vegas, and we fucked the girl he brought with him," he continues.
Vegas.
I gasp, thinking of that game. Lux brought me to that game against the Valridge Trojans.
"She was this hot-as-fuck blonde." Then he gives me an apologetic look and drags a palm down his face. "Her hair was nearly silver. She wore these tight, pleated skirts and—"
I interrupt him, fully naked and annoyed. If I didn't know he was speaking of me, I would be infuriated, so I play the part. "Could you not talk about someone else like that?" I cringe for good measure. "It makes me feel insecure."
And it would if I believed a single fucking second of this.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart." He sounds sincere enough. Then he's leaning forward, kissing my forehead. "Me and Pru shared her in Lennox's hotel room, and he walked in on us, so we owed him." His words tumble over quicker now, almost like he needed to get it off his chest.
None of this adds up.
For one, I was the blonde girl he explained.
Two, Lux and I stayed at a timeshare. We didn't sleep together intimately, but we did do other things. And I was still a virgin, so no, I didn’t fuck the twins.
Three, Lux spent only the game time away from me. He didn't even go to the celebratory party after. He stayed with me, making me feel special and adored.
"Wow," I whisper, wanting to call him out for lying. But if this has fueled anything, it's knowing he's a fantastic liar, and somehow, Lux is in on it.
Obviously, not enough, since Just lied straight to my face about something Lux was well aware of.
"Can we shower together and forget about any of that? Move forward somehow?" he asks.
I nod, but deep inside, the darkest part of me, simply fueled on hatred and disregard of all seven guys in my life, sharpens its claws, preparing for the uprising of a lifetime.
They will pay.
I will find out their secrets.
Cass will not have died in vain.
Chapter Eight
Justice
The world is at our fingertips. That's what they taught me in school. Yes, I went to an elite elementary, junior, and high school, but it's the same everywhere.
If you set your mind to it, the world is yours.
They didn't warn you that if you're a mobster's son, your choices were never yours. No matter how far you reached, it would never give you what you wanted most.
My death was written in the books before I'd taken my first breath. It was annotated like an award, stamped on a page, there for the taking.
All as a result of a last name I didn't choose.
When Colt asked me earlier where I met Lux, I knew to lie. Not for my protection but for a game plan. You see, I'm a plotter. My life was set in stone, but the lives of my chess pieces—Lennox DeLeon, included—are movable, malleable to my needs and desires.
Lying to Colt was a ploy.
She wanted closure. I needed honesty.
She failed.
So fucking hard.
Not that I blame her. It's not as if I gave her a bunch ammunition to battle the war beside me but rather gave her more than enough gun powder to turn the gun on me.
We remember that game differently.
She was with Lennox, her hair braided to one side, the little strands straying with the humidity, barely sticking upward away from her woven strands. Hips, wide and grippable, hugged the pleated skirt with fervor. It's like her skin and the material had a pack of who could be more irresistible.
No one lost but onlookers.
She was innocent back then, her bright pale eyes filled with hope and light, less stressed, happy. It looked beautiful on her.
Small and meager, her smile was offered to anyone who gazed upon her, and I wanted to capture that in a bottle, stuff it deep inside my chest where my ribs would keep it prisoner.
But that's not what happened.
She never saw me.
I really wanted Colt to prove me wrong. Call me out on my shit, kiss me, smack me, even yell a