Page 43 of Anthem of Love and Loathing

Kodiak shrugs into his flannel, pulls the hoodie over the gray woolen beanie covering his caramel hair. “He demanded off the bus like twenty minutes after shit went down between you. And we were all happy to see the back of him.”

“You’re telling me he isn’t on the bus,” I clarify. Because he has my box and my vibrator. I have no doubt that he lied last night about not having them. There’s a good chance they’re in the bedroom. This might be my opportunity to get them back. Before Riot decides to go through my box and find the baby things I kept that will tell him everything I never did.

“I forgot something. I need five minutes.”

“Yeah, okay. I’ll tell them.” Kodiak digs his hands into his pockets and exits the bus behind Golden.

I rush through the bus and let myself into the dark bedroom. The bed is unmade, there’s a good chance Morgan and Bronx ended up using it to its full potential.

I have no time to consider if I have any kind of feelings about that. I bite my lip as I scan the space. Where would Riot put it?

Under the bed? No, too easy. In with his clothes? There’s a half dozen cupboards that it could be in. Methodically I start to work my way through them. “Where are you?”

I start opening cupboards and—once I’ve ascertained that my memento box isn’t inside—shutting them. “Where did he put it?”

“You won’t find it,” his dark, gritty voice makes me jump. My already racing heart takes flight.

Taking a breath and steeling myself, I shut the cupboard door that’s keeping him from my view. “You had no right to take my things.”

“They’re my things too.” His steely gray gaze is wholly focused on me.

My senses heighten. My breath catches. He knows.

“My letters to you. My lyrics.” He stalks toward me. “You need the money. You figured you could sell my soul.”

“I…” Maybe he hasn’t looked yet. Maybe he hasn’t worked out the secrets I hold in my cardboard chest. But I can’t count on it. “Give it back, and I’ll give you all your damn letters and lyrics. They’re not worth anything to me.”

It’s kind of bullshit. I kept them, didn’t I? But I probably shouldn’t have. They were all a bunch of lies.

Every pretty word, every funny joke, or this reminded me of you, or always your friend was a lie. As was the confession that he wanted to be a one-woman man that had me eating out of his hand only days before Rogue and Ivy’s wedding.

He can take all those moments and broken promises and shove them up his ass for all I care.

His brows rise. “Something else is worth more, then?”

“No.” My bravado drains away. Shit. Shit. Shit. I don’t want to dredge up my pain for him. He doesn’t deserve it. And even if I should have told him at one point, that time has long passed. “You’re right. I was planning on selling your original lyrics to the highest bidder.”

He steps in, leaving no air between us. His lips touch my ear. “I thought that might be the case, but now I know I need to look deeper.”

“There’s nothing—”

“Filthy little liar.” His breath is hot against my neck.

My insides clench, muscle memory misreading the heat and dark depths of his insult as something more desirable. I shove at him. “At least I’m not a cheat.”

He hardly budges.

I shrink under his hard gaze. Ugh. Screw that. I’m not going to let him make me feel small when he’s the one who broke us. “You fucked Sonatina. I didn’t do that.”

“So what if I did?” His hand wraps around my throat. His grip is more calculated this time, less sloppy. He no longer denies it the way he did the night I walked away. “You left.”

Because finding them together broke my heart. And then they rubbed it in my face in the middle of his brother’s wedding reception. He was kissing her. What was I supposed to do? Let him crush me completely. “As if I was going to stick around after that.”

His jaw bulges. He looks like he has more to say, but when he speaks his question takes me aback. “What will you give me to get your box back?”

“What do you want?” I claw at his hand, but his grip remains.

“Riot. Kelsey. We’ve got to go,” Bronx hollers from the front of the bus.