Mum rarely got angry—angry in a way that forced her to lash out. So seeing her shake with rage, her eyes burning with hate as each second passed, was new to me.“Liar!” she screamed at Diego. “You’ve ruined my life—every inch of it! And now, the one thing of Harold’s I have left... You son of a bitch!”I had sensed it all along. Every time he brought her flowers or pretended to help with her shopping, the alarm bells in my head rang. Diego was up to something. So fucking predictable.But the shame on his face dissolved. The real man stood there now, without his mask.“I ruined your life?” he growled, his voice rising with every word. “Are you fucking kidding me, you ungrateful bitch?”“Oh, shut up, Diego. Just shut up!” Mum screamed, her voice trembling as she finally let loose. I flinched. She’d always let him get away with everything. I guess she drew the line at the house.Diego’s face twisted with sick, angry amusement, as though he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.“You know
JADE"Did you see that guy?" The girls whispered in the locker room. "The red-haired guy that sticks with Tristan everywhere? Oh God, what happened to him?"I paused midway through shutting my locker, my book hugged tightly to my chest. Red hair? They had to be talking about Eros. What happened to him? Could that be why he wasn’t picking up my calls? I’d assumed he wasn’t at school—I hadn’t seen him anywhere—and trust me, with that fiery hair, Eros wasn’t exactly hard to spot."I thought it was just a slight limp at first," another voice chimed in, more animated than the first. "Then Mrs. Lydia made him unzip his face mask and, oh my God—"Oh her God, what? My grip on the locker door tightened. What did she mean, "oh my God"?"I bet Tristan did that to him. Maybe they got into a fight," the first voice guessed, already changing the subject. "Hey, are you going to eat this—"I slammed my locker shut with a bang, sending every pair of eyes in the room my way. My heart pounded as I stepp
MYLESDays blurred together like smoke drifting out of a chimney, dissolving amongst the clouds. Before I knew it, like a punch to the gut, it was just two days until D-day.It was overwhelming—juggling exams, practice, and everything unraveling at home. I coped the only way I knew how: shutting down my brain. But even that wasn’t foolproof because the thought of him—of Tristan—always managed to creep in, knocking me completely off balance.It felt like he was avoiding me. Since the day he handed me the gear, he’d stayed out of sight. No calls. No texts. Not a single invitation to come over.I kept telling myself it was for the best, that maybe he couldn’t even wait for D-day to cut ties completely. Yet, when I saw him Tuesday, standing in front of a computer with the principal by the ICT lab, my chest tightened.He noticed me. His eyes locked on mine, and for a moment, everything seemed to halt. Then he smiled—warm, disarming, and utterly confusing. It knocked my thoughts into a fre
MYLESI felt the cold air hit my naked arm as I was yanked out of the bus. When I groaned, they let me go. We'd been riding for an hour, and my legs were cramped up. "Are you okay?" said that gruff voice, just before the bag was pulled off my head. "Yeah," I answered reluctantly, wondering what the hell was going on. For men that had snatched me up against my will, it was as though they were concerned for my well-being. The gruff man leads the way, and I follow. It was not that surprising that we were before El Refugio. The pounding music that usually greeted me was nonexistent; replaced by soft piano notes. Why did that... My brows knit. Why did that reek of Tristan? I raised my head, catching him at the top of the stairs, leaning against the rail with his eyes stuck on me although he had company. I sighed. Of course. He's in a black dress shirt and suit pants that did so much justice to that body. I feel my throat go scorched; even the faint dark circles around his eyes
MYLESOnce again, his cock springs free, and once again, there's a lump in my throat. I’d never get used to this, would I? My fingers traced his length, earning a sharp inhale from him. I wrapped my hand firmly around his girth, stroking rhythmically, the pace increasing as his voice grew louder, each grunt reverberating with my name. He draped an arm over his eyes, his voice rough and ragged. "You're fucking killing me. Ah, fuck." He was so warm and hard, hips buckling against the chair, oozing pre-cum. "How… ah… how long are you planning to keep this up?" As long as I could, especially if he kept whining and shivering like that. Emboldened by his reaction, I leaned closer, letting my tongue trail along him. "Fuck… Fuck!" His hips jerked involuntarily, fingers gripping the armrest until his knuckles turned white. His breath hitched sharply as I swirled my tongue around the tip, tasting his saltiness. "Goddamn it, Myles," he groaned, his voice hoarse and laced with despe
TRISTAN“…You saw Myles.” Al’s voice came from behind. I turned to find him by the door of the minibar, his eyes pinned on me as I laid cross-legged on the sofa. “I’m surprised you’re not drinking yourself dead.” It had crossed my mind—since last night, watching as he climbed into the cab without looking back. Now, I was sprawled on a settee in my own room, hating my own existence. I had wanted him to stay… then why, why couldn’t I just say it out loud? Tell him I wanted to see him again? Because he didn’t want that… He had a bright future ahead of him. The deal was over. There was nothing to hold him back. I shut my eyes, but I… I hadn’t wanted him to leave. I had thought of slamming the door at El Refugio shut so he never left me. Who was this person? This Tristan? What the fuck was wrong with him? “You didn’t tell him, then?” I opened my eyes, puzzlement etching my brows as I watched Al walk over to the mini counter, picking out a glass. “Tell him what?” Al shook hi
JADE"I wish I had good news, but it was a close-range injury… so we wait." That’s what the doctor told us. "Wait for what?" Leo had asked, his voice steady, but I caught the way his fingers curled protectively around Natalie’s arm, rubbing soothing circles as she sobbed into his shoulder. The doctor had exhaled, a slow, measured breath. But it wasn’t the breath of someone delivering hope. No, it was hesitation—the kind that meant we weren’t just waiting for Myles to wake up. We were waiting for a sign of life. Or none at all.I couldn't cry. The numbness had settled deep, coiling around my chest, weighing my limbs down until I could only stare out the hospital window. The city outside moved as if nothing had happened—cars speeding by, people laughing, living as of I wasn't shattering inside. But inside this sterile room, time had frozen, trapped in the reaction of one gunshot. The neighbors heard it. They were the ones who found him. If they hadn't... My stomach churned
TRISTAN "...Let me get this straight," the investigator had said, pushing the recorder between us. "You knew when he left but pretended to be asleep. Two hours later, he was shot, but you didn't deem it fit to call him?" I'm sprawled on the chair, watching it all fade to oblivion. The seat, although now empty, in my head is occupied—by the thoughts of the older guy, a deep gash through his skull, spilling blood and brain matter on the table. "Your relationship with the victim—was it private?" "There... was no relationship." "No relationship, hmm... Then please, Mr. Tristan, tell me what it was all about and why it was private." "It was a deal." "What was the deal about?" "I can't tell. Myles wanted it private." "Myles, huh... or you? Are you out of the closet yet? Is it too far-fetched to say the victim wanted something more than being hidden?" "Yes." "Yes what?" "Too far-fetched. I was never in the closet." I had folded my hands across my chest, the mental i
MYLES Throughout the journey back to the hospital, we rode in silence. Not once did the mayor turn to look at me—his focus fixed on the road outside the windshield—while mine remained on his back or outside the window. And suddenly, I felt it… shame. In the few hours I had stayed in Elysium, I knew more about my family and understood why Mum had kept it all a secret from me. I now understood why she’d been so concerned about how I moved, what I did. But all those times, I remembered it grating on my nerves; I remembered the scorn I felt each time she did nothing about Diego. I remembered thinking Father would have done a better job than her if he were around, but… it was her all along—the reason I was still alive.My sight blurred; I had pushed everyone away—everyone who was concerned for me, everyone who was after my well-being. And I was still doing it: moving alone, making stupid decisions. How would Mum have felt if I came out of Elysium missing two fingers, or if I never cam
TRISTAN "I gave you two days off, and what do you use it for?" My uncle slammed the glass against the wall, and it shattered into a million pieces. "To find that fucking boy!" The dim orange light overhead hurt my eyes more than it should, and my surroundings were slowly becoming a kaleidoscope of colors. I raised my hand, staring at my fingers as they constantly changed in number and shape. My droopy lids weren’t helping matters. So numb... but not numb enough. The intoxication was wearing off, but I knew I wasn’t getting any more liquor if I stayed here—not when the Boss had angrily hurled my drink against the wall. Going to Jade didn’t yield any results either. She had looked at me with those same pitying eyes, the ones that made my skin crawl. "I hate it," the anger in her voice cut through me after we had called and it was busy. "I hate what he does to you." Her fist clenched. "Don’t get me wrong, I love that bastard, but... I hate seeing you this way." That was... war
The new room we were in was still thick with tense silence. The men who had once tried to kill me now kept a safe distance, their eyes darting between me and Gabriel as if I were suddenly radioactive. Except for the old man, who was now wrapping my pinky and index finger with a bandage. But even the way he looked at me had changed— more caution, like he was handling something fragile and dangerous. Victoria burst out in guffawing laughter, the sound bouncing off the walls. I winced, both from the noise and the throbbing pain in my hand. Now she was nursing a glass of wine, pointing at Luigi with a smirk. “You don’t know what Tristan would have done to you. You’d wish you were never born.” Luigi ignored her, his focus on Gabriel, who stood by the window, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. “So what if he’s some Italian heir’s bitch? You’re the damn boss! You can’t let that control your decisions.” Subtract the undeserved insult, and I understood him. It was t
MYLES The neon sign buzzed overhead, *Elysium* bleeding crimson into the night. A club. Of course, it was a fucking club. Bouncers flanked the entrance, all bulk and cold eyes. One glanced at my hoodie, my bag, and smirked. “Lost, kid?” “Gabriel,” I said, voice flat. “I need to see him.” The smirk faded. The other bouncer stepped forward, his hand drifting toward his waistband. “Who’s asking?” “Myles Harold.” I held his gaze, pulse roaring. “Tell him I’m here to negotiate.” ** “Does Maria know you’re here?” The old man glared at me. “Of course, she doesn’t know. What are you doing here, boy? Leave before Gabriel sees you.” But I couldn’t leave. Not when he had the papers. Not when Mum was on that hospital bed, dying. The Elysium was a bar. It was quite easy to find, turned out it was a big spot at the center of the city. And in many ways, it reminded me of El Refugio... the loud thumping music, except when Tristan was in charge. Except this had strippers, and when
I sat next to her, my head buried in my hands. It was the sterile white walls, the constant beep of the monitor, my mother lying on that bed—so pale it was as though every pint of blood had been drained from her. Slowly, I was losing my breath. Losing myself. "Your mother has a severe heart condition. Without a transplant, her chances of survival are slim." Slim. The word was a death sentence. My chest tightened, and I struggled to draw in a breath. My mum—my rock, my anchor—was slipping away, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. It all made sense now. The first time she had slumped—this was what she had been hiding. All those times she had gone on her secret trips, it had been because of this. Leaving me out until the very end?! Even when I had succeeded in getting rid of Diego, I still couldn't reach her. It was like, with every step I took, she took three more away from me. "...I'm sorry." I froze, raising my head to see those dim eyes on me—the first time
**A MONTH LATER** **JADE** "Good evening, students, parents, teachers, and anyone who accidentally wandered in thinking this was a free event with snacks," the principal began his speech with a playful smirk. The audience roared with laughter. Everyone except the three of us—Natalie, Leo, and me. I gave Leo a reassuring smirk. He was going to come. But the more I did that, the more I knew I was lying to myself. It had been a month since we'd last seen him, since that final day at the hospital. I had no clue if he was coming today. When we spoke last night on his new number, his answers had been vague. It was graduation. I never imagined our graduation would feel like this—just plain. Others looked like they were having fun, but maybe, if we could just believe Myles when he said he was alright, then maybe—just maybe—we could have fun too. "Today, we gather to celebrate the Class of 2010—a class so brilliant, so resilient, and so determined that even senioritis couldn’t
TRISTAN"Myles is awake," my uncle announced as soon as I slid into the car, the words falling from his lips like a storm. "He's been awake for two days."I turned to him, disbelief clouding my thoughts. The weight of his words sank in slowly, dawning slowly across my mind. "Two days?" I echoed, my voice disbelieving. "Jade said...""Jade lied," my uncle cut me off, his voice cool, almost amused. "He told her to lie to you. Now, why would he do that?" His gaze flicked to me for a moment, his eyes narrowing, as if searching for something deeper. "Could it be... that Myles doesn’t want to see you, Tristan?"I froze, my heart stumbling in my chest. Nico was testing me, prodding at my wounds just to see how I'd react. He could be lying, weaving his own twisted version of the truth, just to make me squirm. But then again... what if he wasn't lying? My uncle was never a liar. He wouldn't do that to me. The way Jade had sounded when we spoke yesterday... something had been off. But Myles w
TRISTAN I hadn’t played in the next match. I stayed in the locker room, waiting for it all to be over. And when it finally was—Sharks winning with points—Coach Daniel walked in and sat beside me. “I’m sorry I made you do it,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. He wasn’t looking at me, just staring at the wall, his hands clasped between his knees. “I didn’t know you two were that close. I understand why you two had to keep it a secret.” “It wasn’t a secret,” I cut in, my voice sharper than I intended. “I’m not closeted.” “Sorry,” Coach sighed, running a hand over his face. “I thought… I thought it would help. Give you something to focus on. But I see now I was wrong.” I didn’t answer. What was there to say? That Myles wasn’t just a teammate? That he wasn’t just a friend? That he was everything? “The team won,” he said after a moment, his tone lighter, like he was trying to shift the mood. “They pulled through. Because of you and Myles.” I didn’t respond, just stared at
TRISTAN My lids fluttered open, coming face to face with gray ceilings and dim light. It felt like a million monkeys were playing the banjo in my skull. I winced at the pain, swallowing hard. This looked like a hospital. How long was I out? Hopefully just a few hours. How was Myles? Had Jade replied to my messages? I pushed myself up, ignoring the pain pounding in my skull as I searched the bed for my phone. It couldn’t be here—I’d left it in the locker room at the stadium. No issues, though. All I had to do was borrow one anyway. “So that’s the game you play. Hockey?” That familiar voice came from behind me. “You played lovely—that’s what I would’ve said if you actually did. It looked like you half wanted to fail.” Uncle Nico appeared before me. “Why?” he mused. “You look surprised to see me.” “Not really,” I said. It was the truth. “Can I… have your phone for a minute? There’s a call I have to make.” He stood next to me, the amusement gone from his face. He tilted my h