Playing His Own Games | ✔︎

chapter eleven | burning out

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"The scars you can't see are the hardest to heal."
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Carrie

TAHLIA FROWNS AT ME, her eyes narrowed as we make our way to our usual spot in the courtyard for lunch. "So what's happening with Kane, Carrie?"

I sigh, twirling the strap of my bag around my thumb. "Honestly? I have no idea. I'm worried he'll freak out."

She pauses, gently grabbing my shoulder and slowing down our walk. "Um...Piper told me about the bruises. And apparently Mason had a bit of a standoff yesterday morning?"

Now it's my turn to sigh. "I'm afraid so."

"Well, the group was talking and we've decided on a compromise," she tells me, squeezing my arm reassuringly. "Kane can stay if we manage to get Mason back."

I narrow my eyes. "'Get Mason back?' I was told he stays and goes as he pleases."

"He-he does," she admits, her throat muscles moving as she swallows hard. "It's just that he isn't talking to any of us right now."

I arch an eyebrow. "And you think it's because of Kane."

Tahlia looks uncomfortable, her eyes downcast. "Well, I doubt that would be a factor which would help."

"Fine," I agree reluctantly, not in the mood to argue as fatigue settles over my swollen eyelids.
Tahlia glances at me and our eyes lock. "You look exhausted, Carrie."

"I am." I rub my stinging eyes with my knuckles, fighting back the yawn forming in my mouth. "My sister woke up last night screaming blue murder. Something about a pain in her chest and head. She's been sick all week actually. My mum took her to the doctor yesterday; results should come in soon. And the whole Mason-Kane situation didn't exactly help my mood."

She pulls me into a tight embrace and whispers in my ear, "The whole group is here for you, okay?"

"Okay." I don't know whether to believe her or not.

- - - -

Kane Atkinson is pacing. And a pacing Kane Atkinson is not a good sign.

I sit on his bed, swinging my legs back and forth, my eyes drinking in the state of the shabby apartment. The grey wallpaper is peeling off, revealing holes in the drywall, no doubt the source of the rats crawling through the walls, the carpet mouldy and stained from cigarette butts and dropped food, and there's only one window that overlooks an industrial area, the cause of the smoke and fumes that hovers around the half crumpling building.

Kane's feet set against his bedroom floor as he throws his hands up in frustration. "Are you even listening to me, Carrie?"

My gaze snaps back up to him. I take in the anger smouldering in his eyes and the tautness of his jawline. I should be careful. "Um..."

"Distracted, huh?" he barks, striding angrily over the window and drawing the thin curtains shut. "Too busy criticising how filthy and revolting this place is, are you? Well, maybe this is news to you, but I worked my arse off to buy this shit hole to stay with you!"