Slate (Breaking the Declan Brothers #2) by Kelly Gendron Read Free Book Online Page A

pain, the drugs then follow. It’s a vicious cycle. One I can’t seem to break.
    Like my brothers and me, Rayna’s tragedy still haunts her. Obviously, she’s still harboring the guilt of her brother’s death. Why else would she be putting up with my shit? I’ve intentionally been an asshole. I’m not sure how much longer I can keep up the charade. It’s killing me to be so cruel to her.
    Right now, I have a handle on things, but in a few hours, I’m going to lose all control. I’ve been down this road before, and she’s right. Everything she said is going to happen to me. The sweats, tremors, and the anger...fuck! I gotta get her out of here before all of that shit hits me.
    “Are you hungry,” she asks.
    “No,” I say closing my eyes. God, if only she’d disappear and go back to wherever she came from.
    “How about a sandwich?”
    “I’m not hungry.”
    “It’s going to be a long day. You’re going to need your strength. I’m making you a sandwich.”
    A few minutes pass before she’s shaking my shoulder. I snap my eyes open. “Don’t touch me,” I say, glaring up at her. I don’t like to be touched; it’s something that helps me win most of my fights. For months, people poked and prodded my mangled body as they tried to heal my burns, and each time, it became nothing more than a painful reminder of what I’ve become.
    She holds out the plate to me. “Take it,” she says. When I don’t respond, she sets it on the sofa beside me, sits back down in the chair, and starts to eat her sandwich. She looks around the den. “Jax said you guys made this into an apartment so that you could rent it out for extra cash when you first opened JZS’s.” She glances at my untouched sandwich. “Zeke says it’s now where he comes to kick your ass in Grand Theft Auto. So,” she looks up at me, “is that what you’re doing with your life? Fighting and playing PlayStation with your little brother. What happened to college? Did you get your degree?”
    Fuck. She’s going there. Well, I’m not. Instead of engaging in any conversation, I pick up the sandwich. Might as well eat. I hope that it’ll digest before I start puking my brains out from the withdrawals, and it’s better than talking about my fucked-up life. And I’m right. It shuts her up; she doesn’t say another word. She turns on the TV, and we sit in silence for the next couple of hours.
    I’m waiting for it. I feel the first tremor, my finger twitches, and I get nervous. Another hour ticks by. I get up and start to pace the room. Curled up on the chair, Rayna keeps her eyes glued to the TV as though she doesn’t notice my restless prowl. But I know she does.
    I have to get out of here. I need to pop a pill, and I know there’s a few stashed in my room, which is right above my fucking head. I climb up the stairs, grab the knob with my sweaty palm, and jiggle it. “Jax! Zeke! Come on, you fuckers, open this fucking door!” Nothing, I hear absolutely nothing. It’s getting late. They’re probably at JZS’s. I hammer back down the stairs, head straight for the door that goes to the gym and try to open it. It’s fucking locked. I push my shoulder against it then I give it a few kicks but the thing won’t budge. They must’ve boarded it up, too. Motherfuckers!
    I go and sit back on the sofa. She’s still staring at the TV. I scrub my hands over my sweaty face. I swipe them over my jeans. “Hey,” I say and Rayna’s eyes slither over to me. “Monkey, you really gotta let me go.”
    Assessing me, her eyes move from my face to my trembling hands. She drops her feet from the chair and sits up straight. “I’m sorry, Slate. You’re going to have to push through this.”
    I shoot to my feet, hands balling into tight fists. “Fuck!” I take a step toward her. I see her flinch and every muscle in my body tightens. I’m scaring her. Not good to know. If I get desperate enough, then I might just use that fear to get to my stash.