Snake Eyes

by Melissa Pearl

  “Rhodes,” I mumbled against him.

  “Shhhh,” he silenced me quickly, pulling my arm and marching me away from the bar. Quella trotted up behind us.

  “Where do you girls live?”

  I giggled. “Don’t you already know that?”

  “Of course he doesn’t,” Quella snapped, the idea of security sobering her up. She crossed her arms and huffed, still a little unsteady on her feet but able to walk unaided.

  I glanced at her face as we waited to cross the street. Her nostrils were flaring, the muscles in her face pinched tight.

  “Don’t be scared. He’s not going to arrest us.” I patted Rhodes’s chest.

  “Would you shut up?” he whispered between clenched teeth. “Just stop talking.”

  I sniffed and tried to glare at him, but my head felt too heavy to lift off his shoulder.

  By the time we crossed the road, the FBI agent had let go of my arm and actually had his arm around my waist. Quella walked ahead of us, leading the way with her tense, edgy shuffle.

  My body groaned and ached as we stumbled along. It felt full of liquid, like whatever I’d been drinking was sloshing around inside me.

  I glanced up at Rhodes as he hauled me along.

  He looked worried, agitated.

  “I know you hate this job,” I mumbled. “You never signed up to be a babysitter.”

  “It’s fine. Keep walking.”

  I teetered beside him and his arm clenched me tighter. “I know you think I’m an idiot, under-qualified, but you know I didn’t sign up for this either. I—”

  “I swear to God, if you don’t shut up, I’m going to knock you out.”

  I giggled. “You don’t mean that.”

  He glared at me and I swallowed, licking my lower lip slowly.

  “Although you are tempted,” I slurred then erupted with giggles again that swiftly turned into sobs.

  “Hey,” he said softly, squeezing me against him. “It’s gonna be okay. He’ll forgive you.”

  “I’m about to break his heart. You don’t know Eric. He’s been hurt. He puts up this shield to protect himself, but he let it down around me. He trusts me, and I’m going to destroy that.”

  Rhodes jerked to a stop, spinning me to face him. His fingers dug into my arms, holding me upright. “I’ve been watching you for the last seven weeks and I know for a fact that your boyfriend loves you...and if he doesn’t forgive you after this, he’s a fool. Guys don’t give up on girls like you.”

  My insides jolted as I took in Rhodes’s unmasked expression. His penetrating gaze drove right into my core, the gentle look in his eyes contradicting his usual, angry fire.

  I sucked in a quick mouthful of air, unable to hide the fact I was seeing everything.

  He quickly swallowed, his face blanching as he spun me back around and marched me forward. The revelation did wonders in sobering me up. I was still inebriated, but seeing Rhodes’s tender side was like having a cold bucket of water thrown over me.

  We didn’t say anything more as he walked me back to my dorm.

  I tripped on the pathway to the front door and would have face-planted on the concrete if Rhodes hadn’t caught me. Swooping me into his arms, he muttered something to Quella and she led him up to our room. Halfway up the stairs, Quella swayed, covered her mouth and then made a lurching run for the bathroom.

  With a sigh, Rhodes shifted me in his arms and walked to our door, plonking me on my feet.

  “You have a key?”

  “Um...” I frowned, patting my pocket, then giving him a little smile before fumbling the key free.

  He rolled his eyes and let me lean against him while he unlocked the door.

  We tripped into the room together and he caught me, half-throwing me onto my bed.

  My sigh was wistful and luxurious as my head sank into the soft pillow.

  When I opened my eyes Rhodes was standing over me, pulling his suit jacket straight.

  “Thanks for bringing me home, security.”

  He cleared his throat. “Don’t get drunk again. It doesn’t suit you.”

  My eyes welled with tears.

  “Hey.” He gave me a gentle smile. “It’ll be okay. You can do this. Just rip off the Band-Aid and end it. It’ll be easier that way.”

  I sniffed and gave him a shaky nod.

  “I’m here if you need me,” he muttered before turning for the door and disappearing.

  I pressed my fingers into my temples and bit my lip against the tears that threatened to overtake me again.

  Kicking off my shoes, I heard them plop onto the floor then tucked my knees up against my chest. Something was digging into my butt. I pulled it out of my pocket and slid my thumb over the phone screen. Eric’s text stared back at me.

  My eyes filled with tears again and I decided the Band-Aid had to come off right away. Pressing the little phone symbol on my screen, I held it to my ear and waited five rings.

  “Caity? Are you okay?” Eric sounded groggy. I had no idea what time it was.

  “I need a break,” I slurred.

  “Excuse me?”

  “From us.” My voice sounded wooden. I squeezed my eyes shut.

  “I don’t understand what you’re saying to me right now.” There was a pause. “Caity, it’s two o’clock in the morning. Where the hell are you?”

  “In bed.” My voice pitched.

  “Are you—Are you drunk?”

  “Eric, I can only tell you this once, okay? We’re over...for now. I need some time to think and be away from you.”

  “What? What are you talking about?”

  “I’m tired, so I’m gonna go to sleep now.”

  “No. I’m coming over. We have to talk about this.”

  “No, Eric. There’s nothing else to say. You have to respect my wishes and give me some space.”

  “But—” He huffed. “Caity, where is this coming from?”

  I licked my lips, suddenly regretting the fact I was attempting the call while drunk. “I’m just...I’m...I need...” I cleared my throat. “I’m starting to feel a little claustrophobic.”

  “You’re lying,” he whispered.

  Tears stung my eyes, my face bunching into a painful frown. “Look, I know this is hard for you to hear and it’s hard for me to say. I love you.” I sucked in a breath, sobs making my belly quake. “I really love you.”

  “Calm down,” Rhodes voice was back in my other ear. “Just stop for a minute and catch your breath.”

  I sucked in a mouthful of air.

  “And for the record, you’re an idiot to do this drunk.” His low voice and dry tone almost made me giggle.

  Rhodes was funny.

  My head lolled to the side and I grinned.

  “Caity, are you still there?” Eric’s voice was rough and unsteady in contrast to the FBI agent listening in on this call.

  “End this and hang up. Now,” Rhodes commanded.

  “I gotta go, Eric.” I sniffed.

  “No, wait. You can’t leave me like this.”

  “I gotta sleep,” I whispered. “We can talk about it in the morning.”

  “Wait, Cait—”

  “Goodbye, Eric.” I hung up before he could say more. Clutching the phone to my chest, I curled into a small ball and let the sobs break free. They punched out of my mouth, broken and pitiful, my body heaving until exhaustion took over.

  I heard Quella come in, mumbling some sort of thank you to security, but my puffy eyes were closed by then and I couldn’t drag them back open.

  Mercifully, sleep took me and I drowned in an oblivion of strange dreams, until I was jerked awake with a nightmare in the morning.

  Squinting at the clock on my phone, I winced, my head feeling like it was made of bricks and being held together with sludge. It was nearly seven and I had a class in an hour, but that wasn’t what made me jerk off the bed. What made my body move like lightening was the text message from Eric flashing on my phone screen.

  I don’t
understand why you tried to break up with me last night, but we have to talk about this. I’m waiting outside your dorm and I’m not leaving.

  I did what?

  “Oh, shit.”

  I started to hyperventilate as patchy memories from the previous night flashed through my brain. When the hell did I call Eric? Pressing my hand into my chest, I flopped onto the bed and tried to yank on my shoes, my movements erratic and shaky.

  “Calm down. You can do this,” Rhodes whispered in my ear.

  My response was a few quick puffs of air.

  “Did Quella make it onto her bed last night? I thought it would look a little off to actually walk her right into the room. I escorted her from the bathroom to your door but then left, hoping she’d actually make it to the bed and not end up passed out on the floor.”

  I glanced at the bed. She was lying face down, fully clothed, her feet dangling over the side.

  “Yes,” I whispered, knowing he was trying to distract me in order to calm me down.

  “Good. Now I want you to take in a deep breath, nice and slow.”

  I did as I was told.

  “And then I want you to tell yourself that there are twelve girls who need you to pull this off and that once this is over, you’ll be free.”

  I pulled in another slow breath, pressing my lips together.

  “And then tell yourself that if you don’t find the courage to do this now, that guy waiting for you downstairs is a dead man.”

  My throat restricted.

  “Go and save his life, Caity, so that you can be together again once this is over.”

  I closed my eyes and dipped my head. “Thank you, Rhodes.”

  “I’m here if you need me.”

  28

  Eric

  I didn’t sleep; I didn’t even try after Caity hung up on me. Instead, I paced my room like a caged animal until I couldn’t take it anymore. The three a.m. sand sprints down the beach were a great way to burn off steam. I ran until my lungs were heaving. My rubber band legs gave out on me eventually and I fell to the sand, burying my cheek into the grains.

  I could tell Caity was drunk, which was a shock all its own, but to have her dump me as well, that was a backhand blow I never saw coming.

  I didn’t know what the hell was going on with her, but I had to find out and so at five in the morning, after I’d showered and changed, I headed for Caity’s dorm and that was where I sat for nearly two and a half hours. I had a coffee in one hand and my phone in the other. The minutes ticked by in slow agony as the night sky began to light at the edges.

  It was nearly seven-thirty when I saw her approaching. Her skin was pasty white, her expression somber. Large shades covered her eyes. I drank in the sight of her as she checked the street and then crossed, getting into my car without a word.

  “Hey.” I cleared the lump out of my throat. “You feeling okay?”

  She rubbed her forehead. “I feel like a truck has smashed through my skull and is currently burning its back tires inside my brain.”

  I snickered. “The price you pay for getting off-your-ass drunk.”

  She bit her lip.

  “What’s going on with you? You’ve never gotten drunk before. You don’t even like the taste.”

  “I know,” she mumbled. “Quella started buying shots and then everything became a blur.”

  “Quella.” I seethed the word.

  She jerked to look at me. I wished she’d take off those damn shades so I could actually see her.

  “Did you mean what you said last night or was Quella putting you up to it?”

  Her lips moved, but no sound came out. Her head flinched to look out the window.

  I held in my huff and gently laid my hand on her leg. “Caity, I don’t think you want to break up with me.”

  She swallowed and flicked my hand off her thigh. “You don’t know what I want.”

  “I thought I did.”

  “Well, maybe you thought wrong. Maybe I’ve just been putting on a show to keep you happy and Quella is helping me to see that I can be whatever I want to be.”

  My expression marred with confusion. “I’ve never heard you talk like this before. I don’t understand what’s going on.”

  “Well, maybe I don’t either.” She threw her hand in the air. “But I do know that I need some space and time to figure out exactly what I do want out of my life. I’m too young to be settling down. There’s a world of opportunity waiting for me, and I don’t care that Piper and Scott are getting hitched. In fact, to be honest, I think it’s kind of insane. They’re like what? Twelve!”

  “O-kay.” I rubbed my chin, trying to figure out who the hell took over my girlfriend. “I thought you were happy for them.”

  “Of course I had to be happy for them. Can you imagine the hissy fit Piper would have had if I told her what I really thought?”

  The short, snappy sounds punching out of her mouth were foreign to my ears. I didn’t know who I was looking at, but it definitely wasn’t the Caity I fell in love with.

  “I’m not—” I cleared my throat. “I’m not sure what’s going on here. I don’t know if it’s because you’re hung over or what, but I don’t think we can have a proper conversation with you in such a foul mood.”

  Her shoulders tensed and then she crossed her arms tight across her chest. “Thanks, Dr. Phil, but all I really need for you to understand right now is that I need a break from us. I want space and room to breathe. I don’t want your constant pressure and demands.”

  “What pressure?”

  “To move in with you! To stop hanging out with Quella! Who can be really fun, you know, if you just give her a chance. Something I know you hate doing with people.”

  I glared at her.

  A huge part of me wanted to explode, tear into her with a verbal venom that would no doubt make her cry. If I was one hundred percent honest, I really disliked the Caity sitting across from me. Mean Caity was unattractive.

  She glanced over at me, her face paling even further as she no doubt read me. Her lips wobbled, matching the creasing in her forehead. I was sure there were tears behind those glasses of her.

  I went to gently pull them off, but she veered away from me, scrunching herself into the corner.

  It broke my heart. She’d never shied away from my touch before and it hurt like a hot poker on bare skin.

  “I don’t know what you’re trying to achieve right now, but...I still love you,” I croaked. “I want to make sure you’re okay.”

  She gripped her biceps, her fingers pinching in tight. “I’m fine,” she whispered. “I know this seems random and out of the blue, and I’m sorry I’ve kept—” She swallowed, licking the edge of her mouth. “I’ve kept it hidden for so long.”

  “I thought you were happy.” I ran a hand through my hair.

  “You know me, always putting on a show. You know how I hate to hurt people’s feelings.”

  “But not me. You’ve always been yourself around me.”

  She pressed her lips together and sniffed. “Which is why I’m saying this stuff to you now. I can’t pretend anymore.”

  My breaking heart was shattering, shards of ice tearing through my blood stream. Her words were poison ivy, making my insides itch and writhe. I didn’t want to hear them; I couldn’t quite make myself believe them.

  “This doesn’t feel like you. You’re not like this. You don’t want to be like Quella.”

  “People change, Eric.” She reached for the door handle and it took all my willpower not to lock her in the car. If I could only steal her away, then maybe I could talk some sense into her.

  I gripped the steering wheel, swiveling my body away from her. I could feel her gaze on me, but I refused to look across.

  “I don’t mean to hurt you. All I’m asking for is a little space to think. Please, give me that.”

  I had no words. Like hell I could say yes.

  Instead, I kept my eyes straight ahead and listened with a sinking soul to
the door open and slam shut behind her.

  I’d never felt so lost. Even waiting outside Dodger Stadium for my dad hadn’t hurt this much. With robotic movements, I started the jeep and pulled away from the curb, nearly clipping the motorbike behind me. He swore and raised his fist. I ignored him, driving slowly out of the university, toward the beach. I had no idea where to go or what to do. I just had to stay on autopilot for as long as I could, because if I stopped to think about what was really happening to me, I didn’t think I could recover.

  29

  Caitlyn

  By the time I returned to my room, my chest was heaving. I could barely breathe as I barreled through the door and landed on my bed. I clutched the pillow to my chest, tears streaming down my cheeks.

  “It’s okay. Everything’s going to be okay,” Rhodes said quietly.

  “Oh, shut up!” I ripped the earpiece out and shoved it under my pillow.

  The door behind me clicked open and my insides skittered, thinking it might be Eric not letting me go.

  Whipping a look over my shoulder, my heart slumped.

  It was Quella.

  Fresh tears descended and I turned away, propping my chin on my fisted hands.

  “What is wrong?” She perched on the side of my bed, looking a hell of a lot better than me. The throwing up probably did her good the night before. At least the alcohol was out of her system.

  I buried my face into the pillow, not wanting to talk about it.

  But what was the point of breaking my heart if I wasn’t going to do the job I was meant to?

  Loathing tore through me—a black resentment I had to fight to speak past.

  I squeezed my eyes shut and thought about those girls. Images of them beaten and afraid forced my head off the pillow and I looked up at Quella.

  “Eric and I broke up,” my voice quivered. “And Thanksgiving’s next week and I don’t think I can face my family and tell them what happened.”

  “What did happen?”

  “I don’t know!” I sat up, swiping at my tears. “I thought things were great and then bam, out of the blue, it’s over. I’m so humiliated,” I ended with a broken whisper.