When I look into her honey-brown eyes, she lowers her voice and says, “Because I know her. And I know that she…cares for you.”
My heart stampedes. “She does?” I pause and blurt out, “Then why the hell would she just leave without a text or anything? She has me worrying—you worrying. It’s unfair and cruel and—and—fuck. It’s just not right.” My throat tightens.
She puts a hand on my wrist. “The girl likes to be closed off sometimes. She used to run off without telling anybody anything back in our hometown in Washington, but she always came back.” She laughs a little and draws her hand back. “Always with a new tattoo…” She pauses as I laugh too. “But she did come back. This time is no different. Just…just give her some time. Don’t give up on her. She likes you…a lot. You’re…you’re good for her, and you make her happy.”
“How would you know?” I scrape at the counter nervously.
She does a little shoulder dance that makes me smile. “What are best friends for other than gossiping about a boy?” Her voice rises, and she bats her long eyelashes. I laugh some more and she does too, her eyes sparkling more than I’ve noticed since I’ve been coming here. She didn’t say it, but each time Red leaves, she takes a little bit of her friend.
Reaching for her hand, I suggest, “Until then, why don’t we hang out? Stay close and keep ourselves from bawling over our lack of Red.” She laughs and swats at me with the dirty rag. “I’m being serious. My frat’s throwing a Halloween costume party tonight.”
“Not into douchebags or costumes.” She shudders at the idea.
“Oh, come on. You don’t have to dress up or interact with any of the guys. You can bring a friend or two or a hundred with you. I don’t care.”
She nibbles on her lower lip as the bell rings over the door. Her eyes flick to the new customer before settling them on me with a small smile. “I’ll think about it,” she promises and walks over to the customer.
“Don’t think too hard,” I call after her, bringing the coffee mug to my lips. I sip slowly, enjoying the warmth that spreads through my chest. I’m brought out of my coffee trance when Rachel sits on the stool on my left. “Hey, there…what’s got you so down?”
“This.” She looks around, keeping her voice low, before pulling out a manila file from her velvet brown shoulder bag.
I raise my brows, nodding toward it. “What’s in there?”
“Don’t freak out at me,” she warns. The wideness of her brown eyes and flushness in her cheeks scare me a little, so me freaking out is looking like a guarantee.
“Rachel…” I say, setting my coffee down.
“Just…” She bites her full lower lip, pushing the folder toward me. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you about her.” She moves to leave, but I grab her wrist, not moving my eyes from the file. Written with black Sharpie marker on a little label toward the middle is Red’s name. And on top of the file is the stamp of the college: Johns Hopkins University.
“Where did you get this?” I ask her, taken aback by the darkness in my voice. I look at her wide eyes and how she gulps. Whatever is in here is bad…real bad. She won’t even keep her eyes on me; she keeps darting them around. She must have looked inside, and my hold gets a little too tight, but it goes unnoticed before I can loosen it.
“You’re hurting me, Noah,” she tells me with a whimper.
I let go. “Sorry, but—Rachel, where did you get this from?”
She rubs her frail wrist with scared doe eyes, like she might run away from me. “She really turned you out,” she says. Glancing at the folder, she tells me, “I have a friend who works in the main office. I did you a favor. You’ll be doing yourself a favor too if you leave her. She’s…” She shakes her head and hops off the stool. “Just read for yourself.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
I don’t read the file. Whatever is in it won’t come from Red’s mouth. The information in it is pure facts derived from whatever shit source that’s no substitute from her word, and hers alone.
I stare at it on my bed before covering it with a pillow. I would burn it and scold Rachel for digging up Red’s past, but it’s the school’s property, and I don’t want to get kicked out and disappoint my parents even more.
“Dude, you coming?” a voice asks behind me.
I turn around and find Ty poking his head inside the room, a girl wearing a slutty nun’s outfit hanging off his arm. Kind of literally. He’s wearing red suspenders clipped to a fireman’s pants he bought off eBay, and he has on a hard hat. Oh, and he’s shirtless. Obviously.
“Yeah, I’m coming now,” I tell him. I take one last glance at the pillow before walking over to him and his nun. The outfit’s incredibly offensive to the Catholic religion, but what outfit isn’t? On the way down, I spot several vampires, policemen, and Jokers. All make me glad I dressed up simpler: in a black leather jacket, black jeans, combat boots, a red scarf, and the infamous spiked bat.
“Who are you supposed to be again?” Ty asks the second I walk into the kitchen. Around the counter, girls are getting their bellybuttons filled with vodka sucked at by werewolves and pirates. Halloween truly is a gift to mankind.
“Negan,” I tell him with a smile.
He crinkles his forehead.
“Lucille.” I hold up the bat, posing like I’m bashing it over someone’s head.
His eyes squint, and I sigh.
“I’m guessing you don’t watch The Walking Dead,” I assume, and he shrugs.
“Never seen it. But I’ll see you around. Me and Lyndsey are gonna—”
“Don’t wanna know. Just…go.” I wave at him, and he snorts, but they walk off to the back. More like stumble over her cloak. I rub the back of my neck and lean against a wall, watching Hulk make out with Ariel the Little Mermaid on the kitchen table where we eat. I close my eyes and imagine I’m somewhere else.
I rather be anywhere other than here. I want to be where Red is. Watching her smile out of the corner of my eye when she thinks I’m not looking. Listening to her laugh or curse me out for not liking her taste in music. Feel her warm, creamy skin as I tickle her. I just miss her presence.
I know I sound whipped, but I don’t care. Red…she makes me feel like myself. Like I can climb Mount Everest and not care about the freezing cold because she’d be by my side giving off her potent fiery energy and just because the journey of the climb outweighs anything else. The exhilarating, out-of-body rush of excitement and fulfillment.
“Noah?” I hear a familiar voice call out.
Snapping my eyes open, I look to my right and smile, finding Majesty dressed in a flapper outfit. “Over here, Josephine Baker.”
She turns on her sparkly small heels, blushes, and walks over to me. She punches me in the shoulder and chuckles behind her white gloved hands. “Shut up, Negan. You’re lucky Party City was open this late.”
“You know who I am!” I exclaim and shake her a little, the silver tassels on her short dress shaking.
“Yes! I love The Walking Dead. Now, will you stop shaking me? I feel like a traumatized baby.” Her tone is light, but her expression is violent. I stop, and she beams up at me. “How’s the party so far?” She looks around and grimaces at Jon Snow groping Mary Poppins. “Never mind, I know the answer—traumatizing. Is that the theme for the party?”
“I guess so.” I look away from the weird couple, and we shudder together. I laugh out loud, and she looks around. I guess I should get her a drink. “Want a drink?”
As a shirtless Pennywise 2017 edition guy walks by, she laughs out, “Yes. Please.”
We end up drinking a few vodka sodas and talking for half an hour. In that time, we get to know each other better. I learn about Red’s rough time growing up with the tragic loss of her mother, about her own childhood and how she was bullied for being Muslim. I promise her that, if I lived where she grew up as a child, I would have beat up every jackass that teased her about her beautiful golden hijab and she, Red, and I would swing after school ev
ery day, me acting as their bodyguard. She laughs at that, calls me sweet, then leaves to get us decorated cupcakes.
Now, she’s in the corner of the living room making out with Thor. I’m keeping an eye on her even though she promised she’s fine and equipped with pepper spray and a ninja star. I choose to believe she was joking about the star, but that doesn’t stop me from watching out for her. I’m on my fourth cupcake when I am tapped on my shoulder.
Rachel is standing beside me, wearing an angel outfit and looking sheepish. “Um…hey, Noah.”
I take a while to fold the cupcake paper before answering. “Hey, Rachel.” I toss the folded paper into the garbage bag beside me.
She takes a deep breath. “I’m…I’m sorry about earlier. I was just thinking about her hurting you and…and I don’t want to see that happen. Is that such a bad thing?”
I shrug, ready to ignore her when I get a good look at her costume. A halo rests on top of her hair, glittering and gold; her face holds a small splash of glitter, and her white tutu and corset makes up the entire outfit. I can’t help but tie her actions to her costume, and I shrug again.
“I guess not,” I say.
Her eyes light up, and she breathes out heavily in relief. “That’s great. I was hoping you’d see it my way. I just wanted to protect you, Noah.” She throws herself at me, and I stumble backward, ending up in front of the open front door.
“Prep?” a weak voice says beside me.
My muscles loosen, and I whip my head toward the door. What I see makes my knees buckle and heart race like never before.
“Red?”
Chapter Thirty-Four
I feel like a statue, frozen in place as I take in her presence. She looks okay in the sense that she doesn’t have any bruises on her face. Her hair is the same—disheveled and tossed to one side; so is her ripped tee and beat-up combat boots. She even smells the same from where I stand. But she doesn’t look the same. Her black eyeliner is smudged and heavy bags are hidden away under her dim blue eyes that are usually brilliant—well, around me, at least.
I want to run over to her and ask her a bunch of questions. Maybe scream at her for just leaving and not answering any of my calls and worried voicemails. Then I want to crush her in a relieved hug. But like I said, I can’t move, frozen in shock. A million emotions seem to staple me to the ground, and I look away to catch my breath. Anger courses through me, helping me get through just standing here with her staring at me like I’m an artifact on display.
“Well? Aren’t you going to say anything?” Rachel snaps and turns to Red, who doesn’t flinch. Just stares at me. Her eyes have so much impact on me because I feel a shiver run up and down my spine. “You left and he’s been worried sick about you. You’re even worse than I thought.”
Red says nothing, which surprises me so much I pull away from Rachel and walk down the stairs toward her.
“Noah, what are you doing? She isn’t worth it,” Rachel calls out.
I ignore her and stop in front of Red. She stares up into my eyes, and I curl my fists in my pants. “Where have you been?” My voice comes out stern, no bullshitting allowed. I think I deserve to be a hard-ass for one night, right? After what she did, I deserve so much more from her.
The sound of constant chatter from drunk partygoers on the lawn almost drowns out her silence. Almost. She opens her mouth to speak, but something crosses her eyes and she closes it shut. I wait a few more seconds but receive nothing but earth-splitting silence. Either that or it’s my heart crumbling just a little more. I hate that she just left me, and now that she’s back, she won’t even tell me anything about why she did. She’s just staring at me like I should be able to read her mind. Like always. But this isn’t one of those times.
“Right,” I say around an airy, pathetic laugh. I take a step back and watch her eyes flutter. “You just get up and leave, which Majesty says is normal. Majesty, by the way, is worried sick too. But I guess you don’t give a shit, right? You can do whatever the hell you please because you’re Red—the unreliable badass. You can just crush me and I should expect it because I give you my all when you give me shit, like you just fucking leaving,” I snap and pant for breath.
Tears are forming beneath her fluttered shut eyes, mouth ajar, like she’s ready to reveal everything to me. But she shuts her mouth and looks away. Again. She’s pushing me away. Not trusting me enough. When will she ever? I hide my frown, spin on my heels, and begin walking back to Rachel, to the party, to where, in Red’s mind, I probably belong instead of by her side. When, in reality, I don’t give a shit about the party the way I give a shit about her.
“Grey,” I hear her mumble barely. With the party racket, I could have heard something entirely different. But the name makes me stop in my tracks and turn to her.
“What?” I say.
Eyes clearly avoiding mine, she inhales deeply. “I was on a…a road trip…” She trails off and burns whatever is left of my heart. I hate and am amused that she has that ability to just crush me up with one glance or silence or that freaking name.
“Grey? As in Wyler? Grey Wyler?” I don’t miss the shock in my voice. I thought I’d heard the last of him a few months ago, when I was sort of dating my childhood best friend, Liv Westerfield.
Just when I started to fall for the girl, Grey Wyler—the most shithead asshole I know, well, he and Ian are neck and neck—swooped in and stole her from me. But to be fair, they had their own thing. I was just in the way of their grand, epic love. So I gladly took a step back. Though, with his track record of fucking up, I doubt they’ll be anything more than a couple. The asshole’s basically allergic to commitment; it’s actually kind of hilarious.
“Yes.” Her eyes shine and then her brows curve together. “You know him?”
I scoff and look around. “Know him? I hate the guy. A real prick…but so far he’s been paying his dues to society, helping his girl after the…” The words melt on my tongue as I visualize her and me holding hands as I cry for her in the ICU, a tube in her mouth, chest… “How do you know him?”
She licks her lips, shrugs her shoulders. “Been hanging out with him, I guess.”
I take a long, deep breath to calm myself. “And you just left town with him?” I ask through grinding teeth. If I gritted them any harder, my teeth will shatter like my resolve.
Her eyes bore through mine, arms crossing her chest, as if bracing herself for my reaction. “Yes,” she says, and I keep my calm. I really, really try. But imagining him and her in his car, driving across the freaking globe, in that confined space, ignites a spark that creates an entire forest fire within my chest.
“That it? You’re not even gonna try to elaborate?” I spit out, and she looks away, looking annoyed. I want to wipe that look off her face because it’s pissing me off even more that she doesn’t hear the wrong in her confession. “Wanna at least tell me why you left to do God knows what, in God knows where with a prick like Grey Wyler?”
“I don’t need to explain anything to you,” she claims, scowling at me.
“Yes! You do!” I storm over to her and shout, “You left the second after we established something between us. Just up and left without a notice or anything. You worried Majesty and me, and now you’re pissed because I’m questioning your sudden decision to go on a cross-country road trip with an asshole? How is that any fucking fair, Red?”
“We aren’t boyfriend and girlfriend! I don’t mean shit to you like you don’t mean shit to me! I don’t need to tell you jack shit. So why don’t you hop off my fucking back and go back to your angel-sweetheart bitch who’s staring me down?” she screams and gestures wildly behind me. But I don’t budge. I keep my eyes on her and pant as the fire fans out in my veins. My anger dissolves like sugar in water, because of the glossy ripple in her eyes and her silently grasping for words.
“I don’t want to fight.” I run a hand through my hair.
“Neither do I,” she says, glancing behind me. “I gotta get to a jo
b. And you gotta get back to her.” Jealousy floats between her words. No. They sting with bitterness, and I actually laugh. She runs a finger across her lip before wheeling around on her boots.
No. No freaking way! She doesn’t get to just walk away without an explanation.
Following her to her bike, I shout without thinking, “What? You start to get feelings for me and go back to your cowardly ways? So you leave me and go run off with some tough-ass fighter? I’m guessing you have a type and were shaking in your boots when you actually felt something with me?” She stops getting on the bike but doesn’t face me. And it pisses me off. “Tell me, Red. Are you ever going to stop being a coward and tell me how you feel? Or will you keep hopping to assholes instead of admitting you feel something for me?” I yell at the top of my lungs, drawing attention from partygoers. But I can’t help that she makes me insane.
“Shut up!” she screams and turns around. Her fist collides with my eye before I even see it coming. Pain bursts behind my eye, and I stumble back onto the patch of grass. She gasps as I scream out in pain.
“Noah!” Rachel screams, and I hear heels hitting the concrete.
“What the fuck, Red?” I cup my eye and hiss as a stinging sensation comes from it. Has she lost her fucking mind? But then I look up at her with my good eye and she’s crying and hugging herself. My anger melts into a puddle as she stumbles back, hitting her bike. In just a few seconds, she’s transformed into a girl with a broken heart and so much story behind her glazed over eyes. I want to scoop her up and hold her for however long it takes.
“Wait. Don’t go,” I plead and stand, wobbly, but Rachel reaches me in time and stabilizes me. “Red, you can’t just leave. Please don’t leave again.” My voice cracks and breaks.
“I’m sorry, but you’re better off without me,” Red croaks before jumping on her bike and riding off without even putting on her helmet.
Red: Burning Desire (Spectrum Series Book 7) Page 23
