Page 17 of Madness & Mayhem

I don’t have time, though. I’m on borrowed time before the police close in on me. But before they do, I need Lakyn.

My Lakyn. My dark Lakyn, who may deny it, but she’s become just as dark as I am.

The energy around her drips with an energy that matches mine. It’s why we are so good, yet so bad for each other. We may create chaos, but it’s a fucking magnificent chaos.

I can see it in the way she walks, the way she carries herself. Long gone is the girl who was aloof to the world.

Three years ago, Lakyn walked around without noticing anyone. I noticed them. How the guys wanted her. How the girls envied her. How there wasn’t a person she would walk past without them giving her a double take, with wonder in their eyes and jealousy twisting their lips.

She had a confidence about her. She didn’t care about her family’s wealth or the fact that she herself dressed like she belonged at a fucking rock concert half her life. She was uncaring, but still effortlessly beautiful.

It was the confidence and the way she didn’t give a shit about anyone around her which drew everyone in. It’s what drew me in.

Though, when she came home last month, there was an awareness in the way she watched everyone. As if her eyes were finally opened to the world around her. Maybe it was Zane’s death that woke her up. Maybe it was the way her freedom hung in the balance, and she had to earn the trust of those around her.

She came home, and she still didn’t care what people thought, though I could see the open wound being picked every time someone called her a murderer. She pretended it wasn’t a direct hit to the pain, but it was. She was becoming human.

It’s what made my love for her turn into an obsession. And I’d never let her go.

After a deep breath, I pull myself up, climbing up the next two branches until I’m hanging over the second-story window, staring straight into Lakyn’s bedroom.

She’s so fucking beautiful.

She lies on her mattress, her knees pressed into her chest as she is curled up in a small ball. Her hands lay in a prayer stance below her cheek, her eyes settled closed as if she’s at peace. Though, I know better. The line between her brows gives away her stress. Her messy hair, sprawled across her pillow.

She’s a mess, and it’s all because of me.

I can see the pain in her face, the misery. I can’t imagine what she’s going through. The wrath she must have endured from her friends. Archer the most. Though if I’m correct, Posie’s hurts the worst. Posie has always been her ride or die, but Posie is also one of the most genuine-hearted people I’ve ever met.

It’s because of me that Lakyn feels this pain.

But there was a purpose in my madness.

I’m not Archer with his slight unhingeness, or Kyler with his charming darkness, or Creed with his wholesome allure when he’s a fucking savage beneath it all.

I’m Reign Whitmore, and I’ve always been insane. When I was a child, when I was a teenager, and now more than ever, as an adult.

My father sent me away with a purpose, and I willingly went to save the girl I loved.

And I came back because I love her, and because I hated her.

I wanted her blood on my hands.

Though the moment I saw her, every emotion I’ve ever had came roaring to the surface, and not only did I want to draw her blood, but I wanted to hold her heart in my hand and watch it beat. I wanted to protect it and ravage it at the same time.

I wanted to destroy her and watch her flourish, and I couldn’t decide which trumped the other.

So I drew it out, toying with her, playing with her mind and watching her fray at the edges.

And as I watch her now, I wonder what it is I plan to do with her.

Do I want to hurt her or do I want to save her?

Possibly, a little of both.

I contemplate leaving, but as I watch the woman I can’t be without looking so peaceful and unsettled in the same breath, I can’t do anything besides reach forward, my fingers pushing her window up. I swing my leg through, slipping into her bedroom as quietly as possible.

With my mask firmly settled over my face, I step forward, keeping my feet light on the loose boards which I know will groan under my feet. There’s only so much time I can be in here until Archer checks on her. I know him, he won’t wait long. Someone will always be checking on her, and I know what I have to do. What I hope she agrees to.