Creeping out of the bedroom, I tiptoed through his living room and stood behind the door.

Somehow, before they even spoke, I knew who was out there. I could feel that energy they carried, like an extra spark or presence that most people didn’t have.

“Butterfly, I know you’re in there.” Beck’s low voice drifted through to me.

I dropped my head against the wood, and the tears which had been absent since I’d taken someone’s life finally appeared.

“Please open the door,” Dylan added.

“Go away,” I whispered, exhaustion and tears choking my words. “Just leave me alone.”

Please. I was silently begging.

“We want to explain,” Jasper said, and his voice was rough, “We … we can’t have this conversation out in the hall.”

Anger rose up in me at their pleading tones. “That’s not my problem, Jasper,” I snapped. How dare they? How dare they try and guilt me into forgiving them after what they’d just forced me to do. “Fuck off. All of you. You’re dead to me.”

I squeezed my eyes tightly shut, fighting against the hot tears which spilled down my cheeks regardless. I couldn’t deal with them right now. Not when their betrayal was so fresh.

There was a long pause, but I wasn’t dumb enough to think they’d left.

“Butterfly.” Beck exhaled heavily and there was a wooden thump like his forehead was pressed to the other side of the door like mine was. “That’s not how this works. You’re one of us now, for better or worse.”

The matter-of-fact cast to his words boiled my fury higher, and I embraced it. It was an unhealthy coping mechanism, but once again, I found myself much preferring to welcome the anger than dwell on the pain.

Clenching my teeth, I stepped back and whipped the door open so quickly Beck almost tumbled into the room. Off balance, he staggered back a few steps then glared at me in confusion.

“What the fuck, Butterf—”

“Stop.” My voice was like ice, and I blocked the doorway, making it clear they weren’t welcome to enter. “Never call me that again. I am not some fragile bug with pretty wings for you to pull off.” I cast a disgusted look at Beck—desperately ignoring the pangs of agony in my chest when I noticed the dark pain etched across his face. It was just easier not to look at him, so I whipped my furious, sickened eyes over the other three.

“You got what you needed. My shackles are locked down and filed away in your revolting vault, so let’s cut the bullshit. You used me. You deliberately formed this … fucked up bond between us, all so I wouldn’t question shit until it was too late.”

Tears choked me and I swallowed past them, grasping onto that burning hot anger.

“I’ll do what’s required as a Delta successor, but nothing more. We’re not friends, and we’re certainly not…” The words stuck in my throat and my gaze involuntarily returned to Beck. His broad chest heaved as he sucked a deep breath to speak, and I held up a palm to silence him even as my gaze dropped to the ground. “Like I said, you’re dead to me. Lose my number, I’ll see you at the next forced Delta meeting.”

I stepped back, grabbing the door and slamming it in their sorry faces before any of them could find the words to respond. Or maybe they just had nothing to say. My days of naively believing they were good people—that they were just the product of their upbringing—were done. Those four had played me like the pawn they’d first accused me of being, and I felt nothing but shame and betrayal for it.

My shaking fingers flipped the six deadbolts closed and I stepped back into Dante’s warm embrace. I didn’t know how long he’d been there, but the second his arms closed around me it was like the floodgates opened. My whole body shook with sobs as I buried my face in his bandaged chest, and he just stood there stroking my hair. Exactly the pillar of strength I needed when my whole world was crumbling around me.

2

Every day, one of the guys showed up outside Dante’s apartment building. It started the morning after they’d shown up to “apologize” and I’d slammed the door in their lying faces. Dylan appeared in the doorway of the walk up across the road. I spotted him from the window as I brushed my teeth and flipped him off. He’d just folded his arms, leaned on the wall, and grinned at me.

The next day was Evan. The next was Jasper.

The whole time I stayed at Dante’s they maintained this routine. Watching me… Like I was a flight risk. They weren’t wrong. Not a day passed that I didn’t think about the fake IDs in Richard Deboise’s office. But if I fled … what would happen to Dante? To Eddy? Not to mention the worry that those IDs wouldn’t work now that they had video footage of me murdering someone? My face wasn’t going to change.

I was fucking trapped.

“Who’s on guard duty today?” Dante asked as I stood at the living room window, staring out absentmindedly while my fingers tangled in the dirty, off-white net curtain. His words startled me, and I jumped slightly as I turned to face him.

He was holding out a mug of coffee and I took it from him with a grateful smile. “Um, Dylan, again.”

Dante quirked a brow and leaned past me to peer out the window. He would see exactly what I’d just been staring down at. Dylan, in his usual spot, sitting on the steps of the old, abandoned laundromat across the road.

Dante gave a sarcastic little finger wave, and I didn’t bother looking to see what Dylan’s reaction was. As if Delta taking Dante, beating him half to death, then holding a gun to his head wasn’t bad enough, now they were stalking us.

“Still no Beckett, huh?” My best friend said the words lightly, but I didn’t miss the intense way he watched me when we made our way over to the couch.

I shrugged, like it didn’t tear me up inside that Dylan, Evan, and Jasper had been outside—watching me—every damn day, but not once had Beck showed up. “Why should he do his own dirty work?” I murmured with a scathing edge.

Dante’s jaw clenched, and his knuckles turned white on his mug, but I was too exhausted to press him for what he was thinking. Probably about how Beck had personally broken three of his ribs and he’d like to return the favor. I wouldn’t mind lending a hand.

“Riles,” he started, but stopped when his phone buzzed loudly on the coffee table. Mine had run out of battery days ago and I just hadn’t bothered to charge it. What was the point?