Page 164 of Broken Compass


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But Mom did. She pretended to care, then left and never called. Never came back.

West finds me on the balcony, the early morning breeze whipping my hair. I’m still in the blouse and panties I fell asleep in last night. He’s in his black boxer briefs, his hair sticking up in funny spikes from sleep, flat on one side.

He puts his arms around me, and I burrow against him, needing his strength, his presence. “How you doing, girl?”

“I should be asking you that.” Without moving away, I take his hand and lift it, turn it over to look at his busted knuckles and reddened fingers. “A fight. And then a night with the bleach.”

He grunts, his neck flushing. “I had to clean up, Syd. Nate was throwing up, and with everything that happened… I needed to. I know I’m a freak, just—”

“West.” I lift my hand to his rough cheek. “West, it’s perfectly fine. And… to be honest, I’m glad you cleaned up so well.” I shudder. “Thank you.”

“Are you… are you serious?” His eyes go adorably wide.

“Yeah. I don’t like how it twists up your mind, and cripples you sometimes, but last night was hard.” I rise on tiptoe to kiss his mouth. “So I get it.”

He chases after my mouth, eyes darkening, and kisses me back. He tastes of sadness. “You may change your mind. Get tired of me. This is how I am, Syd. I don’t think I’ll change.”

“You can get better. And I’m not changing my mind.” I grab his arms and kiss him back, lick his lips, making him groan. “Ever.”

He breathes hard, presses his forehead to mine. “Kash said…”

“What? What did he say?”

“That he’s grown used to me.”

“What he was trying to say is that we love you, West.”

He hauls me more tightly against him and says nothing. His heart is pounding in his chest.

“Started without me?” Nate grumbles, coming out. He squints against the early light, charmingly rumpled in his gray briefs, his hair in his eyes. “Naughty.”

I turn in West’s hold and grab Nate’s hand, pulling him to us. “Morning.”

“Morning.” He looks alive, so much more than yesterday, despite the godawful bruises covering his torso. Yesterday he’d looked empty and dead inside. Now he has a fire burning in his pretty eyes. “What did I miss?”

“Well, we had butt sex three times, once here on the balcony in full view of everyone, waiting for you to drag your sorry ass out,” West drawls, and I turn back and stare at him.

Nate huffs and smiles. He puts one arm around me, the other curling around his middle, where the darkest bruises start. “So selfish.”

Seeing him so battered makes me want to cry, but I can’t. Not when it feels so good to see him smiling again. He bends his head toward me, steals a kiss from my mouth, and I melt against them both.

But one of us is missing. Without Kash, it’s like missing a limb, a piece of my heart. When did this happen? When did he become one of us, when did we grow into one entity, one beat?

Am I the only one who feels that way?

Nate looks around Kash’s empty room, mouth pressed flat. “So, he’s gone?”

“He never came back last night.” West pads around the room, lifts the blinds and looks out the window. “He called on our way here, and said he was coming home. I’m going back, retrace our steps.”

“And how will that help?” Nate rubs at his temple. “If he doesn’t wanna be found…”

“What are you talking about?” I frown, looking around.

“He ran away. I didn’t expect him to, but there you go.”

“Run away? Kash wouldn’t.”

“Syd…” Nate winces. “Why wouldn’t he?”

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