Turner was more pissed than any of us about that. “That is such a load of shit! Those people are evil incarnate and were so involved in this,” he’d raged a few days after everything came out. Every time a statement even mentioning BestLyf appeared in the press, he’d lose his shit and go on a tirade about what had happened to his mom and what he and his dad had discovered. He’d only calm down once Mena dragged him out of the room.
It wasn’t that I didn’t believe Turner. I’d seen Raine and Joseph talking at our party that night, and she gave me weird vibes, but there was no way to prove BestLyf had done anything illegal. The sums Frydenberg had handed over were substantial, but there were no laws against making donations—and both sides claimed that was exactly what they were. The police were attempting to seize some of the money as proceeds of crime, but BestLyf’s legal team was wrapping that up in so much litigation it would probably be years before the government got their hands on it—if ever.
“You ready?” Hendrix squeezed my hand as he pushed a button, and all the car windows soundlessly slid up.
I’d let him see my apprehension when he’d picked me up, but I’d had the ride over to steel myself, and I wasn’t about to show vulnerability to any of these people.
With him by my side and my girls having my back, it didn’t feel so much like a mask anymore. I wasn’t hiding. I was just reserving the most private parts of myself—the real parts—for those closest to me.
“Ready.” I gave him a genuine smile.
We got out of the car together. Heads turned, whispers sounded, but we ignored it all and just joined our friends.
I gave the girls and Drew a kiss on the cheek each, and Mena started showing us photos of an elaborate makeup look she’d done over the weekend. She was so talented.
Next to us, Drew sat up a little straighter on the hood of his car and nodded to Hendrix. “Welcome back, man.”
Hendrix watched him for a beat, and I waited with bated breath. With everything going on, we hadn’t really had a chance to talk about Drew, but I knew that whatever my boyfriend decided, there would be no changing his mind.
The side of his mouth quirked, and he held out a fist. “Thanks, man. Good to be back.”
They fist-bumped, then did that sideways high five, and I breathed a sigh of relief.
Amaya snorted. “Men.”
“I know, right?” I shook my head. It was that easy. No conversations necessary; they were just friends now. Drew asked how Hendrix was healing, Hendrix made out as if he was practically back to normal (lies), and just like that, they launched into a conversation about baseball.
Mena frowned at my sister, who kept glancing over my shoulder. “Why do you keep looking at the front gates?”
Harlow shrugged. “I’m waiting for Mom to pull up. I can hardly believe she let Donna out this morning.”
I laughed, but it ended on a groan. “She nearly didn’t. She made Hendrix come inside and promise to drive carefully and to text her if we needed anything. I’m so glad Dad had to go on his work trip. I think if they were both home, they would’ve insisted I take another week off.”
Mom and Dad had been . . . hovering. For the first time since I could remember, they were more worried about me than Harlow. Mom was worse than Dad, even coming in to check on me in the middle of the night as if I were a toddler. She’d startled me awake several times.
But they’d both been pissed, livid, when they first found out what we’d done—that we hadn’t told them the second we found out Will and Drew were involved in something illegal, that we got ourselves involved. I knew most of it came from a place of worry for us, so I did my best to remain calm, take the verbal lashing, and act appropriately contrite.
Once they’d calmed down, I did the mature thing and told them everything. I went through every detail of what we found out—glossing over Harlow’s potentially illegal methods of getting the information—why we chose not to tell anyone, how the night had played out. They were grudgingly happy Hendrix was willing to go to great lengths to protect me like that but still didn’t condone his reckless actions.
I left out my regular visits to Davey’s—figured my parents didn’t need to know how many guys I’d fucked—but I told them about how I’d been feeling suffocated, pressured, and overwhelmed and that I didn’t want to go to law school anymore.
With everything else that had happened, they were hardly even bothered.
“You do whatever you want, go to whatever school you choose, study arts for all I care.” Dad waved a dismissive hand, his hair a mess, an empty glass sitting on his desk. “We just want you to be happy and safe.”
“You’re not mad about all the work I’ve put in over the years going to waste? All the connections I’ve made and . . . and . . .”
“Honey.” Mom scooted closer to me on the couch, and Dad pushed off his desk and came to sit on my other side. “We’re not mad at all. We want you to be successful, but what that looks like is entirely up to you. Above all, we want you to be happy. And safe.”
I nodded, a lump forming in my throat. “I just want you to be proud of me, and I feel like I’m failing.”
“Donna.” Dad took my hand and made me look at him. “We are proud of you. So proud of you. No matter what.”
My tears spilled over.
“We love you so much, honey.” Mom wrapped me up in a hug.
That was pretty much the end of the conversation. The following week had been focused more on Hendrix’s recovery, police statements, and my parents constantly reassuring themselves I was safe and well. They’d been hovering over Harlow and me both, but I was definitely copping more of it after opening up about how I’d been struggling.
I shook my head and pushed the memory away, taking a deep breath of the fresh, sun-soaked spring air. I still got a bit misty thinking about what an emotional roller coaster the past week had been.
Nicola walked past with Luke, and they both smiled at me and waved. I smiled and waved back. A lot of the guys from the football team had been at the fight when the police busted in, and were arrested. Every single one of them had walked away without being charged—thanks to expert lawyers, their parents’ influence, and their enthusiasm to testify against the Frydenbergs. Nicola and I had talked, bitched about Will, and we were cool now.
“Let’s head in.” Amaya picked up her bag, linked arms with Mena, and took the lead. Drew slung an arm over Harlow’s shoulders, and they were cracking jokes and messing around before we even reached the front stairs.
Hendrix threaded his fingers through mine and kissed the top of my head as we followed our friends into the school.
People stared and whispered, none of them daring to come up to us and actually ask about what happened, but by now the whole school knew everything that was public knowledge. The stares and whispers were just as much about the fact that I was walking into school hand in hand with the guy they’d all thought I despised just a week ago. I smiled to myself.
At the start of the hallway where all the seniors’ lockers were, we pulled up short so we wouldn’t collide with Mr. Monroe. He was barreling past—students parting in his wake, some even turning to walk in the opposite direction to avoid him—but he stopped when he spotted us.
“Welcome back, both of you.” His lips twitched slightly in what I thought might constitute a smile. He was in a charcoal sweater, the shirt underneath buttoned all the way to his throat.
We mumbled our thanks.
“It’s been brought to my attention that you’ve withdrawn your applications for some of the colleges you applied to,” he said, looking right at me.
“Uh . . . yea . . . yes, sir.” He was an English teacher and not even my English teacher. He must’ve seen the confusion in my eyes.
“Mrs. Fielding is on leave, and I’ve been asked to step in and assist for a short time.” His lips pressed together slightly—clearly he wasn’t thrilled to be helping with careers counseling. “Please come see me if you’d like to discuss opt
ions. You too, Mr. Hawthorn.”
With another tiny smile, he stalked off again, clutching a pile of papers at his side.
Hendrix and I looked at each other with raised eyebrows, then burst into laughter. It was so good to be back—hanging out with my friends, dealing with Mr. Monroe’s moods, getting ready for classes. As much as I’d felt suffocated by some of those same things in the past few months, the familiarity of it all was weirdly bringing me comfort.
The others had already dispersed, so we hurried off to our own lockers. I quickly grabbed my books and rushed over to Hendrix’s side just as he closed his.
Pulling his shoulder down, I leaned in to whisper in his ear. “I’m not wearing any underwear.”
His eyes squeezed shut, and he groaned low, gripping my hip and moving in close. “Why would you tell me that? I really don’t want to spend all day with a semi, Donna.”
There was an edge of annoyance in his voice, but his gaze was pure lust.
“Who said anything about all day?” I whispered against his lips. Then, without kissing him, I started to back away. “Meet me at our spot at lunch.”
He frowned. With a grin, I turned and rushed off to class, fully aware he had to go in the opposite direction or risk being late.
“What spot?” he called after me. “Donna! What spot?”
I rounded the corner and picked up my pace. He’d figure it out once the lust cleared a little and he could think straight. Now I just had to make sure I made it to the little room at the back of the auditorium before he did.
Note from the author
Thank you so much for reading Like You Hurt! I really hope you enjoyed it and you’ll consider leaving a review. As an indie author, reviews make a massive difference when it comes to my book reaching other readers. Even a sentence or two helps!
More Devilbend Dynasty!
Want more of Donna, Harlow, Amaya and Mena and their #FriendshipGoals as they navigate love, pain, and drama? The Devilbend Dynasty series continues in book 3! Like You Should is Harlow’s story and will be coming out soon. To be the first to hear about the release date and more updates, click this link:
https://bit.ly/3h3ZoGq
And to read Mena’s story - Like You Care - right now, click here: https://bit.ly/2AcceBN
Acknowledgments
A lot goes into putting a book out. The process is long and sometimes painful and there’s no way in hell I could ever do it all on my own. I’d like to thank, from the bottom of my heart, the following people for always having my back, constantly supporting me, and doing all that you do to make my work better at every step along the way: my family and friends, my beta readers, my ARC team, Sam Dove, Christine Estevez from Wildfire, my editor Kirstin Andrews, and all the members of my reader group – The Snow Lodge. To all these people, and to every single reader, thank you! I’m able to live my dream because of you.
I always make sure to thank my husband in the acknowledgements, but this time around I’d like to shower him with a little extra praise. Because, to be honest, if it wasn’t for John, I’m not sure how I would’ve gotten through the past few months at all – let alone finished writing this book and put it out. Between what a frightening and unsettling place the world has been lately, and some of my own personal struggles, it’s been a really rough couple of months. I paused at this very spot for a long time while writing this because I struggle to put into words all that he means to me – all that he is to me. John has been everything I needed and more at every step, every high and every low – and there have been some serious lows lately. I honestly don’t know what I’d do without him.
About the Author
Kaydence Snow has lived all over the world but ended up settled in Melbourne, Australia. She lives near the beach with her husband and a beagle that has about as much attitude as her human.
She draws inspiration from her own overthinking, sometimes frightening imagination, and everything that makes life interesting – complicated relationships, unexpected twists, new experiences and good food and coffee. Life is not worth living without good food and coffee!
She believes sarcasm is the highest form of wit and has the vocabulary of a highly educated, well-read sailor. When she’s not writing, thinking about writing, planning when she can write next, or reading other people’s writing, she loves to travel and learn new things.
To keep up to date with Kaydence’s latest news and releases sign up to her newsletter here:
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Also by Kaydence Snow
The Evelyn Maynard Trilogy
Variant Lost
Vital Found
Vivid Avowed
Devilbend Dynasty
Like You Care
Like You Hurt
Like You Should (coming soon)
Like You Know (coming soon)
Standalones
Just Be Her
It Started With A Sleigh
Like You Hurt: A Standalone Enemies to Lovers Romance (Devilbend Dynasty Book 2) Page 28