Grey: The Retribution (Spectrum Series Book 3)

by Allison White

  “You made it!” a girl in a short, silver dress that shines under the crystalline chandelier, with golden blonde hair in a stylish bob said.

  “Alycia,” he greets cheerily, dropping his arm from me and wrapping it around her instead.

  I feel an unfamiliar pang in my chest as they pull back and talk animatedly for some reason. So I look away and unintentionally make eye contact with someone.

  A boy wearing a blazer over a crisp white shirt walks up to me, holding a tray of treats. “Brownie?”

  “Oh, sure…” I didn’t know it was a formal-kind of party to have workers go around offering desserts and such. This gets an extra point in my book of posh. I pick the one on top and look around and notice some other people are eating and giggling. It must taste really nice. He walks away, and I take a bite. I moan at how sweet and soft it is. I stop him from walking away and take another one because: why not? He seems shocked for some reason but moves on without a word. I finish the entire thing and the next before Noah faces me again.

  “Want something to drink?” he asks, and I nod.

  “Who was that girl?” I ask him as we weave through the crowd, headed for the kitchen.

  “Oh, Alycia? Just a friend,” he explains as we enter the industrial-like kitchen. All stainless steel, granite counters, and dark wood. I sit down behind the counter as he pours me some dark soda, mixing in a little vodka with my consent.

  “How do you know her?” I’m curious. He hands me my drink, and I take large sips until I finish the whole thing, being really thirsty. He stares at me when I hold it out for some more but shrugs and refills the cup. I down that cup and get another refill, but he cuts me off after that.

  “I met her when I was roaming the Mayan grounds a few months ago,” he informs me. “Why? Jealous?”

  “That you were exploring an ancient civilization? Very.”

  He laughs dryly, playfully. “Very funny, Livvy.”

  I shrug. “I try.”

  “Anyway, Miss Sass, I should introduce you to Mark.”

  “Mark who?” I finish the drink, and before he can continue speaking, I get up and grab his hand. “I want to dance instead. Come on, let’s go dance.” I twirl, and he laughs and nods, wrapping his arms around me.

  “Didn’t know you were so into dancing,” he says as I drag him to the living room turned dance floor.

  “There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me.” I don’t even know what I mean, but he smiles anyway.

  I loop my hands around his neck, and he has to bend his head to really be close with me, like an awkward giraffe dancing with a cub. The image brings giggles past my drying lips, so I lick them and tug at them, pushing closer to his warm chest. His chest is hard and chiseled under his white button-up shirt. Along with the shirt, he’s wearing fitted black jeans and a pair of Converse. I reach up on my tippy toes and play with his floppy brown hair, running my fingers through it. He’s so cute, like a giraffe in a flashy outfit. Again, I giggle at the image.

  He doesn’t say anything, just smiles wider.

  My laughter grows as he twirls me, and we dance and dance and dance for what seems like forever. I must be contagious because he begins to laugh too, and I am spun into his chest and dance a little against him. Our fingers are interlocked, and his eyes are bright, too bright. And so are the lights. I feel light-headed, and my laughter grows soft. His perfect shiny face shifts in and out, and there are three of him.

  I think he put a little too much vodka in those drinks…

  “I’m gonna go…step outside,” I tell him, blinking rapidly as the lights shift in and out of focus.

  “Are you feeling okay?” He presses his large hand against my forehead. “I can get you some water or something.”

  “What’s or something?” I giggle.

  “Livvy…” he warns.

  “I’m fine, buttercup.” I push his face away, and he sighs. “I’ll be f-fine.” I stumble a little, and he walks behind me when I firmly say, “I just need to take a breath. I’ll be right out here, okay?”

  He seems to be fighting a battle himself, but he finally says, “Five minutes, Liv. Five minutes.”

  I give him a thumbs up and walk outside. The first thing I notice is the wide, lit-up pool that is being used by a couple of girls and guys splashing around and jumping in. I follow the cobblestone path to the grilling section and take a seat on one of the lounge chairs and clutch my stomach, pinching my eyes. It feels like my head is spinning and my tongue is heavy and tingling.

  What the heck is going on?

  I only had a few drinks and a couple brownies. How can I be so messed up in a span of only about forty-five minutes?

  I take deep breaths and sit up. “Okay, you’ve got this, Liv…you have got…to eat something.” I get up, ignoring how dizzy I feel and find one of the boys walking around with a platter of sweets. I smile excitedly as I walk up to him and take another brownie. I gobble it up and take a seat at the pool. I kick off my sandals, but I don’t know where they land. I pop my feet in the cool water and sigh as I wiggle my toes around and swish my feet from side to side.

  Water…my body is made up of seventy-five percent of it. How do I not drown because of it? So does that mean everyone can’t swim, like me? Does everyone drown constantly? Do I see dead people? Am I…dead?

  Oh, my head hurts.

  My side buzzes, and I nearly jump in the pool, afraid I’m being electrocuted. But then I listen, and I mean really listen, and figure it’s my phone ringing. I fish it out and answer.

  “Halo!”

  “Livvy, are you okay? I want you to have some space, but I’m getting worried,” Noah screams over the party noise.

  “Fine, golden boy,” I tell him, holding back a giggle as I imagine him as a Golden Retriever. “Just a few more minutes. I like the pool in my toes, my toes in the pool, the—you get it. Just party, I’m not feeling well.”

  “Then I’m coming to get you—”

  “No!” I pout and shrug my shoulders, lying back on the concrete. “I like the pool toes, so you just go and find that Alycia girl and you party. ‘Kay, bye!” I hang up before he can say anything else. A few minutes pass, and I know he’s done what I told him: party with that silver girl. I frown and feel my stomach rumble like an angry ocean. I want to silence that ocean, so I raise my phone to my face, and it drops. “Ouch!” I hate when it does that.

  I dial the first number I can think of and leave it on my forehead, pressing it on speakerphone.

  “Hello?” a familiar gruff voice speaks, more like barks…like a dog. I imagine a cute little Pitbull barking at me and laugh and cry at the same time. “Liv, is this you?”

  “The one and—” I burp then giggle. “Only. Whoops! Didn’t mean to do that.”

  “Liv…are you high?”

  “My GPA is.”

  “I mean, like—forget it,” he says, and I know he’s rubbing his lip. “Where are you? Are you at a party? Don’t answer that. I can hear the background noise. Why the hell would you do drugs? What kind did you take? And just…how?”

  “Shut up, puppy, too loud,” I groan, annoyed.

  He sighs again. “I’m coming to get you,” he grumbles.

  “Did you know we’re all, like, oceans on the inside?” I inquire. “We’re, like, a lot of water, naturally. But with all the crying I’ve been doing lately, I must be barren,” I mumble.

  He pauses before saying, “Where are you?”

  “In the universe,” I giggle, and I can just see him roll his eyes.

  “Not like that, Liv,” he says like he’s bored. “I mean address-wise.”

  “I have no idea. Ask Noah,” I mumble.

  “So that new friend of yours let you get high?” He sounds angry, and I don’t like it. He cannot get angry at my golden puppy.

  “You’re really ruining this inspirational journey of mine, so I’m going to hang up now.” I sit up and stare hard at the pool. The more I stare, the more my stomach tightens. My h
ead feels heavy, and the party feels like it’s migrated to my head.

  “Don’t do that, Li—”

  I hang up before he can and set my phone to the side. “Can someone help me find my puppy?” I groan as I push to my feet, almost falling into the pool. “And not the mean one.” I burp with a frown.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Grey

  “Yet another victory for…the Skull Crusher!” the announcer bellows, and the crowd goes wild. The guy I just pummeled like he weighed a feather gets dragged off the red mat, and I send him a wink just before he can wipe out, unconscious. I let out a roar of laughter and throw my arms up as the announcer reveals my rising body count that ultimately leads to the big tournament. If I’m not at the gym training and bulking up, I’m punching in skulls and gaining ranks to get to that tournament.

  I am so devoted to winning that belt and title that I almost feel bad for the poor fuckers that stand in my way…almost.

  The sounds of maybe a hundred people clapping, stomping, and cheering my name may seem overwhelming to others, but it is normal and rewarding. Not as rewarding as smashing that fucker’s skull in, though. They call me “Skull Crusher” for a reason…you’d think these idiots would at least try to run.

  I hop down from the two-foot-high platform and send a flirtatious wink to a line of girls in the front row. Obviously, they have a thing for bad guys; too bad for them us fighters are only here for one reason—to fight. But it is quite entertaining to get their hopes up. So I give them a nod and watch as they practically melt.

  When I get to the green room, I fall back onto the ratty couch, lie back, and throw a towel over my eyes. I’m exhausted from beating up a three-hundred-pound man. After tossing that fucker around for half the night, exhaustion expectedly begins to creep in. Maybe I can land a few minutes of sleep before going out to celebrate yet another victorious fight. But of course, that is clearly out of the question, because my phone blares from inside the locker in the corner of the room.

  “Fuck my life,” I groan beneath the towel. I sit up and swiftly walk over to the locker and throw it open after twisting the lock combo. I unzip my gym bag and grab my phone. I plop back onto the couch and wipe my sweaty chest and neck. I blindly swipe my finger across the screen. Whoever this is, they better be able to take a fucking swing to the face because I should be sleeping right now. I haven’t been able to in the past couple of days.

  “Hello?” I grunt in the speaker.

  I get a laugh and a cry in response, and not separate—but at the same time.

  The fuck?

  I am about to curse out this insane person when it clicks. I know that laugh, and I definitely know that cry.

  “Liv, is this you?” I question.

  What is she doing calling me? Doesn’t she know that I’m done talking to her? Nothing she can say will get me to forgive and forget what she did. I loved her more than anyone could have possibly imagined, and she stabbed me in the back and ruined me.

  “The one and—” She suddenly burps then giggles like a maniac. “Only. Whoops! Didn’t mean to do that.”

  She sounds drunk, but something else too. Her words are slurred, but her voice is deep, almost like she’s high…but that can’t be. She irons her freaking socks, for crying out loud; she can’t be high! Drunk, sure. I’ve seen and dealt with her being drunk before. But never on anything drug-related. To say I am shocked would be a disgusting understatement.

  “I mean, like—forget it,” I breathe and begin rubbing and tugging my bottom lip. “Where are you? Are you at a party? Don’t answer that. I can hear the background noise. Why the hell would you do drugs? What kind did you take? And just…how?”

  Why am I acting like I care right now? I don’t, believe me. I should carry on like I hate her, because then I wouldn’t have to deal with this aching pit in my stomach that will only worsen by reaching out to her. I’ll end up dwelling on how fucking horrible I feel—how empty I feel…

  Stop acting like a chick, Grey, my subconscious demands, and I listen to the fucker.

  “Shut up, puppy, too loud,” she groans, sounding annoyed.

  Puppy? What the hell is going through that little head of hers?

  I sigh. “I’m coming to get you,” I mumble and stand. I put the phone on speaker and tug on my black shirt, then shuffle through my bag for my jeans. But I give up when I don’t find them. Guess basketball shorts will do. I grab my backpack, kick the locker closed, and grab my phone, listening to her ramble like a lunatic as I leave.

  “Did you know we’re all, like, oceans on the inside?” she breathes like a hippie. “We’re like, a lot of water, naturally. But with all the crying I’ve been doing lately, I must be barren,” she mumbles, and I freeze at the back door.

  She’s been crying a lot…?

  You don’t care, remember? She broke your fucking heart, you dumb-ass, my subconscious reminds me harshly, and I nod to myself and leave the building.

  “Where are you?” I ask, slipping inside my car.

  I may not like the girl right now, but I can’t allow her to be high and drunk at a party. She’s out of her mind right now, and I know shit usually goes down whenever she goes to a party. Lord knows the girl’s meant to stay in with her face in a book. She should have done just that the night she chose to defy my teasing. That set off a domino effect I couldn’t have ever expected. A beautiful, catastrophic, but life-changing effect.

  “In the universe.” She giggles, and I roll my eyes as I turn on the engine.

  I swerve out of the dirt parking lot and put my phone in my lap, free-driving until she tells me where she is.

  “Not like that, Liv,” I say in a slightly irritated tone. “I mean address-wise.”

  “I have no idea. Ask Noah,” she mumbles, and I feel my blood boil.

  Fuck the address. I’ll track her down myself.

  I track her using her GPS as I speak.

  “So that new friend of yours let you get high?” I try not to sound pissed off. Whether for the fact that he allowed her to even get a whiff of drugs or because he’s with her in the first place, I don’t know. But what I do know is that I really feel like adding another notch of ass-whoopings to my belt, starting with that preppy loafer-wearing fucker named Nick.

  “You’re really ruining this inspirational journey of mine, so I’m going to hang up now.”

  What the shit?

  “Don’t do that, Li—”

  She hangs up before I can finish.

  “Fuck, you are stubborn,” I groan and roll my eyes before glancing at my phone. “Ten minutes away…” I step hard on the gas pedal. “Let’s make that five.” I wouldn’t want her to accidentally fall in the pool. I don’t know if she can swim or not, and although I loathe her, I wouldn’t be able to live knowing she died when I could have stopped it.

  When I arrive, I’m not surprised her “friend” parties at massive mansions like this. Everything is shiny and just screams “I’m a rich douche-bag!” I almost clog my ears to silence the deafening sound. But luckily the pop music of Justin Beaver is loud enough to overcloud the rich man bullshit, thank God.

  I enter through the front and look around at the luxurious chandelier and shiny decor. “Rich fucks,” I mumble under my breath, tucking my hands in my pockets. The faster I find and bring Liv home, the faster I can leave this place and get some well-deserved rest.

  “Treat?” A boy with a silver tray of sweets walks up to me.

  “And they have weed brownies? Don’t mind if I do.” I take one and bite into it, then begin my search. Girls cling to me, and guys try to recruit me into beer pong. But I am not in the mood for any bullshit, so I flick the girls off like flies and give one glare to the golden boys, and they all back off. I’m tempted to take another brownie since they taste so fucking good, but I need to be relatively in control of my head.

  After calling her name over and over inside and coming up empty, I go out the back. There are a few more people out here, most jump
ing in and splashing around the large pool that has lights flicked on. The smell of marijuana fills the air, along with strong booze and grilled burgers. I walk around and call her name again and again.

  I am about to check the second floor of the house when I see her. She’s standing on the diving board, talking animatedly to some tall guy with a button-up shirt and loafers.

  “Prick,” I mumble.

  “You gotta get down from here, Livvy,” the Sasquatch with a big forelock says cautiously, holding out his hands.

  “But the water looks so pretty from here. Like, like a big blue planet that just formed.” She pivots, and I feel my heart drop when she stumbles but holds her balance. Can she even swim?

  “Liv!” I call her name, and she searches for me, then gasps.

  Her eyes widen, and she looks like she’s in la la land and she’s mayor. Just one look at her and I instantly know she’s had more than just one brownie. Knowing her, she’d be oblivious to what the guy at the door was offering and had more than one.

  “Fuck me,” I whisper when I see she’s walking up the board.

  “Other puppy! Oh, it’s so nice to see you!” she screeches and hops forward, the board wobbling beneath her bare feet.

  Okay, she’s getting a little too close to the edge.

  “Don’t take another step, Liv,” I warn and take a step forward myself.

  “Puppy!” She outstretches her arms and runs toward me. Her long run on the short board is cut short when she falls straight into the water. Someone screams, and I jump into action without any hesitation.

  I shed my jacket and dive in after her. The sounds of the party fade away, and the sounds of her loud humming increases. She’s falling and falling while reaching out to me. I swim deeper and deeper and wrap my arms around her waist. She instantly wraps herself around me, and I swim up to the top. By the time we get there, a large crowd has formed.

  “Back the fuck up!” I growl, and they do as told.

  “Wet puppy,” Liv murmurs, stroking my cheek.

  Despite the coldness of the water, I feel my skin flush red just by her touch. I look into her eyes as I swim us to the edge of the pool. She jumps a little, shocked. But then her body relaxes, and it’s the best feeling. She feels extra heavy in my arms with the water clinging to her, but it doesn’t stand a chance against my heart. I smile slightly and watch the way the light cascades across her big, blue eyes and highlights her full lips. Her fingers are playing with a lock of my hair that’s clinging to my forehead, and she hums contently.