Book 2 - Page 55 (1/2)

“I f**ked up,” I whisper harshly. “I did something f**ked up and then I told Samantha about it.”

Sienna lets out a breath. “Okay. What is it?”

The room feels like it’s shrinking in on me, so before it can finish, I mutter, “That I killed a man. That I ended someone’s life.”

After I came home from Louisville, I had no intention of seeing Samantha. I didn’t want to face her—or anyone else, for that matter—until I pulled myself together. Figured out what the f**k I needed to do to fix the mess I was in.

Instead, Sam came to me.

I’d stumbled into my house drunk and falling over the couch. So wrecked I wouldn’t have noticed that someone else was there if not for a hand running down my shoulder from behind me. I grabbed the arm hard, and a teasing, familiar voice whispered into my ear, “Careful, Lucas, you might hurt me.”

Letting Samantha go, I pushed myself to my feet. “What the f**k are you doing here?” I growled.

She flung her shoulder-length blonde hair over her shoulder and skimmed her tongue over her lips. “I missed you.”

I swept past her and climbed the steps, but she was right behind me, talking about her flight and how tired she was. She followed me into my bedroom, and as I started to get undressed, she threw herself down on the bed and yawned. “Get out, Sam.”

Stretching her arms out behind her for support, she made a pouting noise. “If you’re going to kick me out, you could at least sound convincing.” She lolled her head back, and when she looked at me again, she winked. “Trust me, you give me what I want and I’ll be on my way.”

“It’s not happening tonight.”

“But you’re drunk, and we both know how you get when you drink too much.” When I give her a warning glare that tells her I’m not f**king her, she widens her eyes. “What the h.e.l.l did you do to my Lucas?”

“I don’t want to touch you.” I sat down on the edge of my bed, and she tried to climb into my lap. I pushed her away, clenching my teeth. “I can’t touch you.”

The only thing I wanted to do was go to bed. To forget what I had done.

“You’re drunk, baby,” she reminded me. “But I love you, so I’ll forgive you.”

Maybe it was the alcohol, or the words she had said right then, or both, but the next thing that came out of my mouth condemned me. “I f**king killed a man in Louisville.”

She sat perfectly still for nearly a minute and then she moved her head to the side. “Don’t play games, Lucas.”

I pulled her close to me so that our noses touched. “I. Killed. Someone.”

Then I told her what had happened. About Cilla being stalked for months. About the man attacking her in the parking lot of the little venue we were playing at. About me going after him, blind with rage, hitting him over and over again until he was unconscious.

“I took Cilla back inside.” I dragged my hands through my hair. “And when I went back out, he was gone. He was dead.”